I stomp across the room and rest a hand on the contracts. “Don’t bother.”
She freezes. Her hands cup the sides of the stack of paper. My fingers press down on top, and eventually, I win the battle, pushing the papers back toward her.
“Excuse me?”
“I have no interest in these.”
“I’ve raised your signing bonus.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” I repeat. “No interest in them.”
“We’ve come to an agreement satisfactory to both parties. A lot of time, money, legal support, etc. have gone into making this a possibility.”
“We had an agreement that worked,” I say. “But now there’s a third party, Andi. She’s the loser in all of this, and I refuse to let that happen.”
Jocelyn blinks, as if she’s not all that surprised by my demands. “I worried this would happen, but I think I can make you see some sense. Andi is not a loser in this scenario. By cutting her free, she’s able to pursue her own career.”
“Don’t twist my words around.”
“Andi is talented in comedy. I know—I’ve watched her videos.” She smiles, that smug smirk that proves she’s thought of everything. “If you don’t sign this contract, you’ll be back with the Stars. Yes, it’s a great team, and yes, I know you fit in well there, but what about Andi? She’ll have to give up her comedy career to be with you. Is that want you want?”
“There’s a market for comedy in Minnesota.”
She sighs. “You’re acting like a child.”
I’m silent. I don’t want Andi to give up her dreams for me, she doesn’t want me to give up my dreams for her, and that’s the way it should be. Unfortunately, our individual successes make it difficult to make a success of us, together, as a couple.
“I suppose you could try long distance.” Jocelyn shrugs. “I’m sure it works for some couples.”
Still silent, I’m fuming. I don’t want long distance with Andi. I want her in my bed, wrapped in my arms every damn night.
That’s when I have a moment of clarity.
I shake my head and take a step back. Suddenly, I realize she’s doing it to me, the exact same thing she did to Andi: guilt-tripping me into thinking everything I’m feeling, everything I want in life, is wrong.
“This is how you did it,” I say finally. It’s as if the sun has come out after the storm, and I can see the road I need to take. My destination is home, and home is with Andi. “You convinced her that being with me was selfish on her part.”
“I didn’t have to convince anyone,” she says. “I’m just speaking my mind and pointing out the obvious. I’m looking out for your best interests, Ryan.”
“No, you’re not,” I say. “You’re looking at the bottom line. You don’t know what’s best for me.”
“I know you. I’ve watched—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve watched every video of me playing hockey, of Andi doing her stand-up, but that doesn’t mean you know me. I’m sorry, Jocelyn, for whatever went into organizing these contracts, but I’m done. I’m walking away. It’s final. You can look for someone else to play your games.”
“These aren’t games.”
“Fine,” I say. “Call it what you want, but just know I’m done.”
“Who’ll be your agent?”
“I’ll stick with Lawrence, or I’ll find someone else. It’s not your problem.”
“Ryan!” She stands, and the stack of papers goes flying as her desk shakes from the sudden movement. “Don’t throw your life away.”
I pause in the doorway on my way out. “I’m not,” I say, my voice soft, even. I’m no longer angry at her, I just feel sad. It’s a pity she’ll never know why I’m doing what I’m doing.
I understand where she’s coming from, trust me—my priorities were different a few short weeks ago—but then I met Andi, and now things have changed.
“Goodbye, Jocelyn.”
“Fine.”
Her word stops me in my tracks. “Fine, what?” I turn to face her. “What are you saying?”
“I’ll sign you anyway.” Her nose turns up, her arms shaking as she rests her fingers against the desk. “If you’re this serious about her, then I will make an exception for you.”
“Exception?”
“Single players sell better. Better advertisement opportunities. The fangirls, the bunnies, the media go crazy for a hot young hockey player with a bright future, but I can make this work. Devoted young hockey player with a sweet, girl-next-door-type girlfriend—we can make this work.”
“This is my life, not a story for the media.”
“We can make it one. You could earn big on this.”
“You know what?” I smile, this time feeling free, finally free from whatever bullshit Hollywood, Jocelyn, and the old Ryan Pierce got roped into. “I love the game. I just want to play hockey, that’s all, but there will come a time when hockey’s not an option for me anymore, when I’m too old to be of any use on the ice, and when that happens, the world won’t care about me. Neither will the media, neither will the NHL, and neither will you.”
Her lips are a thin icicle, pressed tight across her face.
“Do you know who will be there if I’m lucky?” My heart pounds harder as I hope what I’m saying is true. “Andi.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, Jocelyn. This isn’t going to work for me.”
I leave for good this time, my head pounding as I walk away from the best opportunity my career has ever seen. When the Hollywood sunshine hits my face, however, I’m calm. Finally, I know what I need to do. I may not be a saint—far frigging from it—but this time, I’m doing the right thing.
I call another Uber, climb in, and give him directions to Peretti’s Pizza.
“Good pies,” the driver says. “I love what they do to a sausage.”
“Don’t I know it,” I say, smiling at the image. “Let’s make this quick. Big tip if you can get me there in thirty minutes.”
“Got a pizza all hot and ready, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“Good man,” the driver says. “We’ll get you there no problem. She’ll be waiting for you, man. I can feel it.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking about a pizza or a girl, but I need the latter to be true.
Anything else is just not an option.
CHAPTER 48
Andi
I refuse to admit that I’ve been crying for the last two hours.
After my dad brought me home this morning, Angela agreed to take over my shift, and Lisa swooped by to distract me. We spent the afternoon sipping mimosas and plotting out new material for our pilot audition.
The new material is crap, but it served its purpose—a distraction from him. I can’t hate him, can’t even bring myself to talk bad about Ryan Pierce. I care for him, even after just a short time together. There is nothing wrong with him except timing.
Lisa argued that Ryan should’ve stood up to the Blonde Bitch earlier, and I understand her logic, truly, I do, but I also understand where he is coming from. He made a deal with her before I ever entered the equation, and it is hard to fault Ryan for being a man of his word.
I also understand his desire to follow his dreams. I have dreams of my own, and I don’t intend to roll over on everything I’ve worked for my entire life. My ovaries might want to drop everything to move to Minnesota and have Ryan’s babies, but my brain fights against that urge.
I have a life here, dreams, passions. If I am going to be true to myself and happy—honestly happy—I need to see them through. Otherwise, what sort of mother, wife, daughter, or friend would I be?
“There.” Lisa finishes applying eyeliner to my eyes. Minutes ago, she had frozen spoons pressed against my eyelids to dull the post-tears swelling. “You look beautiful.”
I glance in the mirror, and it is movie magic at its finest. Lisa, bless her heart, has transformed me into a fox—smoky eyes, seductive red lips, and a low-cut, lacy black tank top over a new pair of dark jeans. She’s dressed similarly in black, though her lips are pink and her eyes are dotted with glitter.