Page 75 of Bad Influence
“How quickly you’ve figured out my secret,” Killian replies acerbically.
The screens hanging above the bar are playing highlights from the game we just left, from what I can tell. It’s dim in that inviting, mysterious way and looks clean from what I can tell. Unless the darkness is hiding all the dirt and body fluids.
“Are you inspecting the floors?” Killian asks.
I shift my eyes from the floor to him and his arched eyebrows.
“What? No! I would never do that.” I’m trying to be indignant. I’m sure I’m failing.
He rolls his eyes and looks away, though I’m sure I see a hint of a smile. “The floors are clean.”
“How do you know?”
“Why don’t we flag down the manager and you can ask them?”
“Actually, yes, I would like to see a full cleaning schedule for the place,” I say primly.
Someone walks by next to me and I immediately sidle into Killian, grabbing his arm to keep myself safe. A part of me realizes I’m being neurotic just so we don’t have to stay here.
“There he is,” Killian says. I follow his gaze to the same player he’d pointed out earlier, the one who is his client. He’s with a group of other men, his teammates I assume. Some of them look kind of familiar. A tall woman with curly red hair walks up next to him and he smiles, wrapping his arm around her. They look nice, normal.
“Wait,” I say, looking at them more closely. “Is that Lavinia Callahan? The Olympic medalist?”
“I guess.” Killian shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “How do you know that?”
“I have social media,” I say. “Granted, I had no idea she played hockey until I accidentally stumbled across her on social media, and I listened to her podcast to cleanse my mind of the incels.”
I pull him through the crowd.
They look up as we get closer and the hockey player frowns, his eyes going from me to Killian. When he sees who I’m with, his frown eases into a smile.
“Killian, glad you could make it.” They do that weird handshake, shoulder bump thing that men do when they greet each other.
“Caroline, this is Roman Maddox,” Killian introduces.
“Nice to meet you,” I say. Up close, he’s downright pretty, with thick dark hair and hazel eyes. But my eyes drift past him to Lavinia Callahan. As a girl with semi straight hair, which can’t hold a curl, I’m fascinated by hers. It’s so curly and the volume is something I can’t achieve even in my dreams. Add to that her sheer talent, and I feel like a potato.
She smiles at me softly. “Hi, I’m Lavinia. I think I saw you at the game. I’m absolutely jealous of the fact that you can walk comfortably in those.”
Our eyes drop down to my red bottom So Kate’s.
“I’ve been walking in these since I was a teenager,” I say. “At this point wearing normal shoes feels weird.”
Lavinia laughs lightly. “I kind of get what you mean. I’ve been in skates since I was a baby so I expect to glide everywhere. Do you want to come with me and get a drink?”
“Yes, sure.” Without a second thought I hand my purse to Killian, and walk off with Lavinia. As we’re halfway through the pub I realize that what I did was very couple-y. Handing yourpurse off to a man is something you do when you’re in a relationship with them or you’re related to him in some way.
I pause to look behind me and notice that Killian is already situated. My purse is resting on top of the table in front of him. I guess I’m the only one who thinks it’s weird.
“Did you enjoy the game?” Lavinia asks.
“It was very interesting, but I’m not sure I’m the sports watching kind,” I reply. Although I probably shouldn’t say that to a former hockey player.
“Did Killian bring you with him, then?”
“He did, because he thought I would like it, not because he likes it,” I explain.
We get to the bar, and I’m not sure what to order. Everyone around us is drinking beer except beer is only acceptable to drink while in Germany. There are so many things I have to unlearn. Lavinia orders herself a lavender lemonade, which contains a fair amount of gin, so I do the same.
