Page 13 of All In: The Price We Pay

My stomach clenches. A longing tugs at my insides. Winning the Cup is a dream. The dream I’ve been working toward. A desire so intense that I’ve built my life around it.

This tug inside me is something else. A longing that could take control of me.

Carly is keeping things on track. I’ll vanish into the background as usual and focus on hockey.

Chapter 4 – Parker

“Parker.” Ricky calls me over, waving his arms wildly.

“What’s up?” I whisper. Is there some office gossip I missed during my mini-vacation?

He points toward the office. “Evan Sinclair is here, waiting for you.”

For a moment, I’m speechless. Of course, I’ve been thinking about him every single one of my five vacation days and let myself get tempted to check out his social media. But I’d made myself clear. I’m not working on his case. “Why?”

Ricky lowers his chin and glances at me from under his long, dark lashes. “He called days ago and practically dragged the information out of me about when you’d be back. He wants to discuss the details of his assignment with you.”

I take a deep breath. “Thanks for not putting the call through to me.”

He raises both hands. “No way. Only in emergencies. This didn’t seem like one.”

“It isn’t. I’ll take care of it.” I take a step down the hallway and turn back around. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Um. In your office?” Ricky has the decency to look guilty.

“All right.” I shrug and walk into my office. The door is open, and I see Evan on my sofa in casual workout clothes. He’s engrossed in his phone. “Good morning.”

He glances up and . . . smiles. Argh. That man is killing me. “Good morning.”

I set my things down and sit at my desk. “You know you could’ve emailed.”

He tilts his head from side to side thoughtfully. His gaze falls on the open office behind mine. “Do you mind if we close the door?” I shake my head. He stands up, closes it and exhales with a soft groan. “That’s better.”

I want to . . . hate him? He broke my heart, but we’re not young college students anymore. We’ve made our decisions, chosen our lives, and now we happen to be face-to-face again. If only it weren’t for this sensation of familiarity. But I don’t know Evan. I’m imagining an adult version of the person I once knew. And I couldn’t live with that person then, and I can’t now either. His priorities, his lifestyle, his decisions are diametrically opposed to mine. Trying to force them together hurt so much that I’ve learned my lesson for the future.

“What’s up?” I ask, and he nods.

“Why Valentina Garcia?”

I shrug. “Because she’s also under contract with us and needs a date, too. She fits the pattern of your ex-girlfriends.”

“I don’t have any ex-girlfriends,” Evan growls the words, and my stomach relaxes. Although, of course, it doesn’t matter at all whether my ex has been fooling around with women over the past few years.

“Okay. The ones who fit the profile of the women you’ve been linked to in the press.”

He nods thoughtfully. “And why? What about her?”

“It’s not for me to say.” I lean back in my chair. “If she wants to tell you that, she can. But she doesn’t know what’s going on with you, and you don’t know why she’s with us. But what you should know—and I’m not saying this lightly—is that she’s absolutely trustworthy. I’ve known her for a long time, and I vouch for her. As far as I’m concerned, you two can sit at the table smiling for two hours without saying a word. The only thing that matters is that the photos make good impressions.” I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else for Evan either. He has to be safe.

Evan watches me so intently that I have to tear my gaze away from him. “I can handle that. But I’d need your help with something else.”

I lift my head. “ What’s that?”

“What should I wear? I don’t know the place, but I’m assuming I can’t show up there in workout clothes.” He glances down at himself and runs his hand over his pants. They’re not exactly sweatpants, but they are sporty. A performance shirt peeks out from under his sweatshirt.

“It doesn’t matter. But to make a decent impression, I’d recommend casual chic.”

“Casual what?”