Chapter 34

34

ELLA

With renewed purpose and restored health, I meet Leah in the hotel’s lobby with Bark Wahlburger at my heels.

“Glad to see you no longer look like the living dead,” she says, greeting the dog with lots of scratches.

“Was it that bad?”

She laughs. “No, but while you were in the shower, delirious from the fever you were singing a Disney princess song remix. Then you capped it off with ‘Ella and Jack, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’”

I cuff her on the arm as we exit the lobby. “I was not.”

“If you’d been anywhere else but the shower, I would’ve recorded it for posterity.” She winces and then waves at the valet when we get outside.

He passes her the keys, which she defers to me. “Those are hers.”

I look around for Jack’s new truck, but only a white Mercedes and a black SUV sit under the swanky carport.

The key fob has the peace symbol with a missing branch logo on it. “I think this is the wrong one. Jack just got a truck. It has a dinosaur name. Um, T-Rex, or?—”

“A Raptor. But this one is for you.” Leah rounds to the passenger side of the white Mercedes with a red interior.

“I can’t?—”

She calls, “We’re clogging up traffic. Bark Wahlburger, hop in.”

I look around, but there’s no one behind us.

“Just get behind the wheel,” Leah says with a laugh.

I do, but then I’m frozen. The last time I drove was when the Jeep was stuck in the sand.

“You do have a license, right?”

“Yes, of course. But I can’t drive this. It’s above my pay grade.”

She glances at the transmission gear shift and other controls as if to make sure it’s not a toy car. “It’s a perk of being the fiancée of a famous hockey player and billionaire’s son. Let’s go for a joyride. Live la vida rica . The rich life.”

Hesitantly, I put the car into drive and exit the parking lot.

Leah gives me directions to the highway and then tells me to exit at Cobbiton.

I already got a glimpse of the town when Jack and I drove through and went to the Fish Bowl that first night, but Leah gives me a grand tour, telling me to park by the Busy Bee Bakery and Café.

“I’m glad you and I share a priority.” The scent of coffee, after days of no caffeine, revives me.

She chuckles. “This place also has amazing pastries. Oh, and their whipped honey butter is what I imagine manna tastes like.”

The woman behind the counter is friendly and familiar with Leah’s order. I get a breve latte flat and a corn muffin with honey butter because I’m living la vida rica . She gives Bark Wahlburger a homemade dog treat shaped like a bone.

Leah, says, “Hi, Nina. This is Ella.”

The woman behind the counter wears a yellow apron with a little bee hive on it. “I know. I mean, hi. Welcome to Hockey Town.”

We exchange quick pleasantries before she makes our beverages. A few people sit at the tables, some working on their laptops, reading, or chatting with friends. The overall atmosphere reminds me of one of those sitcoms that revolves around a group of friends and only has two primary sets—the eclectically decorated apartment shared by the two female leads who are forever looking for “The One” and the café where everyone hangs out.

I love it and everything about Cobbiton. It’s a storybook town with two charming streets lined with wrought-iron street lamps and leafy shade trees, shops, and a town center with a gazebo.

Island time is its own thing, but time here seems to move slower, where if you run into someone on the sidewalk, they don’t rush off with a wave. People chat, stroll, and walk their dogs.

Looking through the window toward the town square, I say, “I bet holidays here are festive.”

“You just wait for Christmas, Fourth of July, our corn fest, and sweater weather, plus my side project.” But I don’t hear what that is because a woman named Whit—who runs a cookies and milk food truck—and her daughter Blue join us.

After we eat our muffins, we take our coffees to go and Leah gives me a walking tour of the town. Bark Wahlburger sniffs everything as if making sure this place is up to his standards.

We browse window displays, family-owned shops featuring local artisans, and are greeted by warm smiles. Leah has a story for just about every one of the stores and people. She points out the dining options, including the Lunch Box, a sandwich shop, Spaglietti’s pizza parlor, and several others, including an Italian-Mexican fusion restaurant.

She adds, “There’s also the All Ears Diner out by the highway.”

“Do you have a bed-and-breakfast or inn?”

“We did, but the owner left it to their great niece or nephew. It’s been boarded up for a while now.”

I don’t imagine the Fish Bowl pays as much as the resort, but a dream takes shape where I stay here, get a job to pay my dad’s bills, and can someday fix up the B&B.

Leah says, “Main Street and 4 th Street are the main drags with the town square over there. Cobbiton was known for its corn up until we joined forces with hockey.”

“Jack called it Hockey Town. Nina at the bakery, too.”

She smiles. “My big dream is to open a hockey museum here.”

“Seriously?”

She nods, eyes bright like she wants to tell me every detail, but that’ll be for another coffee date because she points out numerous stores, including a relatively new bookshop called “Once Upon a Romance,” and a salon across the street.

“You didn’t see them in the WAGs box, but you’re going to love Gracie and Juniper. The former is a book nerd in the best of ways and the latter is our big-city hair stylist turned small-town sass queen.” Leah smiles like she’s delivering a compliment to the woman.

“I didn’t notice any puck bunnies at the game the other day.”

“Oh, they’re around, but Coach Badaszek is super strict. Make yourself an asset and support the organization in a meaningful way or get lost. He has a zero drama policy and a one hundred percent family-friendly mandate.”

“Seems like a tough coach, too.”

“The toughest, except when it comes to his daughters. Then he’s a teddy bear. You met Cara at the game. She’s his assistant.”

I’ve met many of them and try to keep track of all the names and who they belong to like there’ll be a quiz later.

Leah points, “Down that way, we have the Fish Bowl where I work. My collection of hockey memorabilia rivals Stan’s.”

“Do you mean the cup trophy thingy?”

“No, I mean Stan O’Neely, who owns it. He’s Heidi’s uncle. You’ll also meet the former puck bunny at some point. She left drama in the dust and is married to one of our players. Moving on?—”

All of this is so shiny and new. I’m legitimately afraid it’s going to disappear with a snap of an evil queen’s fingers.