Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Nolan

As we entered Bridgestone Arena for the hockey game against the Predators, I felt a shift in my reality. This time, Zena and I weren't entering as two people on a mission to satisfy Mr. Dalton's demands. We were a couple, plain and simple, and the thought made my heart race faster than any hockey game could.

The arena was a sea of gold and navy blue, buzzing with energy and anticipation. But all I could focus on was the warmth of Zena's hand in mine as we made our way to the private suite. I glanced at her, catching her eye, and we shared a smile that spoke volumes. No pretending. No act. Just us.

Stepping into the VIP suite to watch the game, I was again reminded of how different our worlds were. The room was filled with people who looked like they'd stepped off the cover of Forbes magazine.

"Who are all these people?" I whispered to Zena, trying not to look as out of place as I felt. "I didn't expect this many people for a road game."

She leaned in and whispered back, "VIPs and sponsors, mostly. Some of our advertisers have corporate offices in the Midwest and on the East Coast. We try to arrange tickets for them when we can."

I nodded, watching Mr. Dalton work the room like a seasoned politician. He was in his element, shaking hands and slapping backs. It was impressive and not something I would ever feel comfortable doing.

I was about to ask Zena if she wanted a drink when the suite door opened and a familiar face walked in. It was Officer Waterman, the man who had hauled Mr. Dalton off to jail just days ago.

I leaned in close to Zena and said in a quiet whisper, "I still wonder if your dad bribed that cop for a get-out-of-jail-free card."

"Actually, I was curious about that too, and I asked Mom about it," she said.

"And?" I prompted, intrigued.

"Turns out, there's more to the story. Officer Waterman is originally from San Diego. He and Dad went to high school together."

"You're kidding," I said, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Zena nodded. "Yep. Apparently, they hit it off after the whole arrest fiasco. And get this, Dad is trying to convince him to move back to California, to take over as head of security for the San Diego area."

I shook my head, amazed. "Your dad never stops working, does he?"

"Nope," Zena said with a fond eye roll. "Even getting arrested turns into a networking opportunity for him." Her phone buzzed, and she grimaced at the screen. "Hmm."

"Trouble at work?" I asked.

She shook her head. "It's my best friend, Jing. I haven't talked to her all week, and she's wondering what I've been doing. I have totally neglected her."

"I guess we've been too busy having fun," I grinned. "Speaking of work, how come I haven't heard you mention a single thing about your job or the Sea Lions Foundation the entire week?" I dramatically grabbed her arm, pretending to look scared. "Wait, are you still employed?"

"Gainfully," she said. "I took the week off. And when I'm on vacation, I disconnect one hundred percent. No emails and no calls unless the building's on fire. And even if the office goes up in flames, they simply need to tell me if everyone got out safely and if someone brought a hose."

"I'm impressed," I said. "You're the complete opposite of your father."

"That's the truth," she said. "I have no problem delegating. Dad, on the other hand, wants his hands in everything." She tilted her head toward the bar. "Although right now, the only thing I'd like to get my hands on is a drink. Thirsty?"

"Yes," I said, walking with her to the bar. Then a mischievous thought crossed my mind. "You know the best part of not pretending anymore?" I pulled her close and kissed her softly. "I can do that."

"Nothing has changed—you could do that before," she said.

I smirked. "Yeah, but this time, I mean it."

"Like I mean this," she retorted, looking around to make sure nobody was looking, then reaching down to pinch my butt.

I jumped and pretended to be surprised. "Hey, not so rough!"

We both laughed as I poured us two glasses of Torbreck Woodcutter's Shiraz. We kept to ourselves mostly, except for ten minutes when we chatted with General Manager Steve Barlow and his wife, Daisy, who had flown in for the game. Then, when it was about game time, we took our seats in the front row of the suite. Imagine my shock when Mr. and Mrs. Dalton came over and sat next to us, with Mr. Dalton right beside me.

This should be interesting.

Zena leaned forward to glance past me toward her parents, eyebrows raised. "Wow, actually sitting for the game?"

Mr. Dalton nodded with a rare smile on his face. "It feels good to relax."

Mrs. Dalton patted his hand affectionately. "Your heart will thank you, dear."

The lights dimmed around the arena and upbeat music started as the announcer's voice boomed through the PA for the players' introductions. The crowd's energy was at a maximum, and the arena erupted in cheers as the puck dropped at center ice.

Most of the first period was pretty uneventful, no scoring, but things got interesting off the ice when the kiss cam started making its rounds. Couples around the arena were hamming it up for the camera, much to the delight of the fans.

Suddenly, Zena and I were projected onto the big screen. I wiggled my eyebrows playfully before leaning in to kiss Zena. The crowd cheered us on.

"How fun!" Zena said, clapping her hands. "Hey, can we do it again?"

"No, but I know who can," I said, nudging Mr. Dalton with my arm as the camera zoomed in on him and Mrs. Dalton.

"Yes! Go, Mom! Go, Dad!" Zena said.

But Mr. Dalton looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. A deer caught in headlights as he awkwardly half-smiled at the camera.

The crowd chanted, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" but then started booing when he wouldn't make a move. When the boos got louder, I couldn't help myself, leaning closer and blurting out, "Don't be such a wimp! Kiss her!"

Luckily, that did the trick.

Mr. Dalton leaned in and kissed his wife, and everyone in the arena went wild. The crowd had no idea they were cheering for the owner of the opposing team.

As the camera moved on to a couple in another section, Mr. Dalton turned to me with a glare. "What did you call me?"

I gulped, scrambling for a response. "I merely presented a hypothetical situation where you might have been considered a wimp if you hadn't completed the task. It's a moot point now, since you've been officially verified as a stud. A plaque is being sent to your home as we speak."

There was a moment of silence before Mr. and Mrs. Dalton burst out laughing, Zena joining in.

"Nice save," Mr. Dalton said.

Right on cue, Mitch received a pass from Johnson, took the shot, and scored, as the buzzer blared to end the first period. We all jumped to our feet, cheering, then I high-fived Zena.

After her parents passed us and joined some of the VIPs near the food, Zena glanced at her phone again, a slight frown crossing her face.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

She looked up, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry, it's Jing again. She wants to know if I'm still alive." She laughed. "We usually talk every day, so my radio silence is freaking her out a bit. I'll need to call her as soon as we're out of here. It's too loud to talk, even in the restroom."

I nodded, understanding. "My buddy Tyson asked me the same thing this morning. I'd love for you two to meet soon. He's a good guy. He works in the marketing department."

A mischievous smirk played on Zena's lips. "Oh, I know exactly who Tyson is. Tall, dark, and handsome, right?"

I felt my eyebrows knit together as I crossed my arms, trying to play it cool. "Oh, really?"

Zena's amusement bubbled up. "You're so cute when you're jealous."

"Yeah?" I challenged her, feeling playful. "Show me a picture of Jing."

Zena raised an eyebrow but obliged, scrolling through her phone before turning the screen in my direction.

I nodded appreciatively as I played it up. "Wow! She's outrageously off-the-charts gorgeous."

"I know," Zena said matter-of-factly.

I huffed dramatically. "Hey, you were supposed to get jealous when I said that!"

Zena rubbed my arm consolingly, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You poor thing. Welcome to the big leagues. You can't mess with me."

I smirked. "You've got ice in your veins. Well-played." Another thought struck me at that moment. "Hey, is Jing single?"

"Yes," Zena replied, eyeing me curiously.

I grinned. "So is Tyson."

We locked eyes, matching smiles spreading across our faces, as the same idea seemed to occur to us both.

Zena said it first. "Looks like we may have to do something about that."

"Operation Cupid?" I suggested, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Oh, it's on. We'll have to set up a double date when we get back. Or, even better, I can coincidentally see you and Tyson when I'm out with Jing. Totally spontaneous, so there is no pressure or uncomfortable expectation." Zena held up her palm for another high-five. Then she tugged at my arm. "I'm starving. Let's grab something to eat."

"I thought you'd never ask," I said, following her to the buffet line.

We were about to pick up our plates when Mr. Dalton materialized beside us. "Can I speak to you two for a moment?"

Zena and I exchanged glances.

"Sure, Dad," she said.

Mr. Dalton led us to a corner of the suite, glancing around suspiciously before leaning in close. "I only have a minute since your mother is in the restroom, but I wanted to ask you two for a favor."

"No," Zena and I said in unison.

We turned to each other and burst out laughing.

Mr. Dalton's expression could have curdled milk. "Listen—I need your help. I want to plan an enormous party for our thirtieth wedding anniversary and renew our vows, but I want it to be a surprise for your mother."

The blood appeared to drain from Zena's face.

This could not be happening.

"We're in luck because our anniversary falls on a Saturday this year," he continued, echoing Mrs. Dalton's exact sentiment. "I wanted to put that in your ear and make sure I can count on you both to help with some of the logistics, and to make sure she doesn't find out. I'm making some drastic changes to my life. This is important to me and I trust you two."

Zena hesitated for a split second before plastering on a smile. "Of course! This is going to be so much fun."

I marveled at her ability to sound enthusiastic in the face of impending disaster.

Mr. Dalton turned to me. "Nolan? Can I count on you as well? You and Zena are spending more time together anyway, so it's perfect."

I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. "It would be an honor."

"Fantastic! Thank you." He clapped me on the back so hard I nearly face-planted into the carpet. "Oh, and one more thing …" He glanced around furtively before pulling out a red velvet box from his jacket. "I'm surprising her with a new ring."

Zena's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? Why do you have that here with you?"

"I couldn't leave it in the suite because I was afraid she would find it," Mr. Dalton explained, glancing around nervously.

"You bought it here in Nashville?" I curiously asked.

Mr. Dalton nodded. "Yes. We were shopping after lunch and wandered into a jewelry shop where I bought her a pair of diamond earrings. But while we were there, she spotted this ring in the display and tried it on, saying she liked it a lot."

I was impressed by his spontaneity, but asked, "Why do you need to hide it if she knows you bought it?"

Mr. Dalton shook his head. "She has no idea. I pretended I didn't like it and she reluctantly gave it back to the sales clerk. But after we got back to the hotel, I snuck back out and returned to the store to buy it."

Zena raised an eyebrow. "Sneaky, Dad."

"And now I need you to be sneaky," he said. "I want you to hold on to it for me."

Zena looked like she'd been asked to juggle live grenades. "Why?"

"Because you're my daughter and I trust you with it," Mr. Dalton said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll reconvene another time to map out details of the reception."

I cleared my throat when I spotted Mrs. Dalton entering the suite. "Incoming."

Zena quickly hid the box behind her back as Mr. Dalton went to intercept his wife.

"This is a nightmare," she said, panic in her eyes. "How are we going to plan two parties on the same night? I can't tell one of them to give up the idea. First, I have no logical excuse, and second, I doubt they would anyway." She opened her small purse and tried to stuff the ring box inside, but failed. She tried again, to no avail, and groaned. "It won't fit in my purse."

"How is that possible?" I asked. "What the heck do you have in your purse?"

"Things!" Zena said. "Put it in your pocket until we get back to the hotel."

"No way!" I protested, stepping back like it was poisonous. "I don't want to be responsible for that ring. I'm sure it costs more than my yearly salary."

"Nothing is going to happen to it!" she insisted. "Do it. Please."

Reluctantly, I slid the box into my front pocket, shaking my head. "Is it possible to have just one relaxing day without surprises?"

"With my family? Ha!" Zena said. "That's about as likely as a penguin tap dancing down Honky Tonk Highway." She linked her arm through mine. "Now, let's go eat before the next crisis hits. I hear the universe is scheduling another curveball for dessert."

Zena's prediction wasn't far off target.

After an exciting evening, which included the Sea Lions easily winning the game 5-0, we headed back to the hotel, completely exhausted. While Zena was doing her nightly routine in the bathroom, I lounged in bed, trying to read but really just anticipating her emergence in that silky red nightgown. When she finally came out, all my fantasies sank faster than the Titanic as I saw her wearing the Simpson's T-shirt I had given her.

"You look disappointed," she said with a smirk.

"What happened to the silky red number you wore last night?" I asked, trying not to sound too dejected.

"I'm saving it for a rainy day," she replied, sliding into bed with an amused smile.

I pointed to the window. "What a coincidence. It is raining right now."

"Nice try. I can see the moon out the window."

"That's impossible—your dad is at the other hotel," I said. "Go on, get changed. Chop, chop."

"Keep dreaming," she smirked.

Believe me, that's all I've been doing.

Zena leaned over to grab her book from the nightstand, inadvertently flashing more leg.

"Shiver me timbers!" I yelled, trying to distract myself.

Zena erupted in laughter. "Nice. Tapping into your inner pirate again. I thought you wanted to ease up on pushing Mitch's buttons."

"That wasn't for him," I defended. "That was an homage to all the pirates of the world who feel excluded. Pirates are people too, you know. Somebody has to stand up for them. Besides, I doubt Mitch has returned from the arena yet. You know, sometimes they do tons of post-game interviews."

As if on cue, there was a loud bang on the door.

"Open up!" Mitch yelled from the other side.

I sighed and slid out of bed in my black boxer-briefs.

"What are you doing?" Zena exclaimed. "Don't open it."

"Relax," I said. "I won't do anything crazy. I'm going to apologize for the pirate thing and let him know it was an accident."

"That's not going to work," she warned.

I opened the door, and Mitch pushed right past me into the room. He stopped between our beds, looking furious.

"What are you doing?" Zena demanded. "Get out of our room!"

Mitch's face contorted with fury as he spat out his words. "I've had it up to here with you two! You're everywhere I turn, flaunting your relationship in my face, plastering it all over social media, and don't even get me started on that kiss cam stunt at the game." He paced the room like a caged animal, his voice rising with each step. "And that ridiculous pirate act of yours is not funny and I swear it's giving me nightmares. Every time I close my eyes, I hear ‘shiver me timbers' echoing in my head!"

He'd left himself wide open for plenty of jokes, but I took a different approach this time. The straight and narrow. "Sorry about that, Mitch. I wasn't going to do that anymore, and it slipped out. It won't happen again."

My honesty seemed to confuse him. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to regain focus. His gaze fell on the beds. Two separate beds. Zena in one, and the other, looking like I'd vacated it.

He pointed, the confusion on his face. "Why are you sleeping in two different beds?"

My mind went blank. I couldn't come up with an answer fast enough. Zena was just as bad, fumbling with her words.

"Good question," she said. "The simple answer is, I have gas, wind like a tornado. Yup, a terrible case and I'm keeping the distance. Just tonight, of course."

Mitch's gaze bounced between us, his eyes narrowing as he ignored her excuse. "I've figured out your little scheme."

I swallowed hard, hoping he was bluffing. "What have you been smoking? There is no scheme."

"No?" Mitch said, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "I did some research and I know all about you, Nolan Reid from Milwaukee, Wisconsin."

Another background check? Seriously?

"You used to play hockey," Mitch continued. "Obviously not very well since you never made it to the pros like me. You use that skiing accident and milk that pathetic limp as an excuse to get people to believe you were forced to quit playing, but you couldn't handle the heat, and you gave up like the freaking pansy you are."

"Leave him alone, Mitch," Zena interjected.

Mitch ignored her. "You're not even a couple, and I have proof."

I barked out my best fake-laugh and tried to sound confident even though I was paranoid he'd found out. "Sure you do."

"I'm serious, pretty boy," Mitch snarled. "I scoured your social media, looking for clues, because something didn't smell right. Then I found it. It was all there in black and white. I've seen it in the movies. The girl gets her friend to pretend he's her boyfriend, to make the ex jealous. The difference is, you are the one who got Zena to agree to be your girlfriend because you want everything I have. You wanted revenge and were trying to piss me off so I would play like crap."

Quite the opposite, Einstein.

"You're grasping at straws," I said. "And where is this proof you're talking about?"

"On your Instagram page," Mitch said. "You posted a selfie when you were walking on the beach in Carlsbad. You said life is good and you used the hashtag ‘single life.'"

"Big deal," Zena said. "It was obviously before we met."

Mitch smirked. "It was two weeks ago."

Zena froze, and I swallowed hard as our plan started unraveling before our eyes. I desperately tried to come up with something that sounded legit to cover my mistake. But before I could say anything, Mitch continued.

"Don't bother with excuses," he sneered. "If this was really serious between you two and you've been seeing each other as long as you claimed, I would see a ring on that finger, which I don't. So, the question is, why don't you want to marry her? I'll tell you why. Because this is a scam!" Mitch pushed me, his face contorted with anger.

Something snapped inside me.

I didn't like Mitch having the upper hand, and before I could consider the ramifications of my actions, I pulled open the dresser drawer and grabbed Mr. Dalton's ring. I opened the box and shoved it in Mitch's face.

"Happy with this proof?" I said. "We're engaged. I have to get the ring sized, but that can wait." I pulled the ring from the box, trying not to look surprised at how big the diamond was, then walked over to Zena's bed, grabbed her hand, and jammed it on her finger. "There. Now, you know. We kept it secret for a while, thinking Mr. Dalton wouldn't approve. It was really hard for me to pretend I wasn't madly in love."

Mitch looked stunned by my action, and come to think of it, so did Zena. But she had nothing to worry about. This should get rid of Mitch once and for all.

Mitch shook his head repeatedly, looking in complete denial. "No way. I don't believe it. When's the wedding?"

I quickly scrambled for an answer, saying the first date that popped into my head. "The twenty-eighth of this month. A Saturday. It's an intimate gathering, and the team isn't invited. Just family and very close friends."

Luckily, I had remembered the date of Zena's parents' anniversary, just in case Mitch looked at a calendar to see if it was a Saturday.

Mitch looked completely deflated, all the air squeezed out of his party balloon. He hesitated, nodded, then said, "Well, if that's the case, there's only one thing I can do."

Finally, he was going to leave us alone.

"I'm quitting the team," he said.

He turned and headed to the door.

"What?" Zena and I exclaimed in unison.

As Mitch's words hung in the air, Zena's eyes locked with mine in a moment of shared panic. In that split second, we both realized our little charade had just spiraled into a full-blown catastrophe that could tear apart the entire team.

"Wait!" Zena called out, leaping from the bed and rushing past me in her Simpson's T-shirt. "You can't quit the team."

Mitch spun around, his eyes flickering with confusion at her attire before hardening again. "I can do whatever I want."

"The team needs you," Zena pleaded with desperation. "Plus, you signed a contract. Are you really going to throw away fifty million dollars?"

Mitch scoffed. "I've got plenty of money, and another team will snatch me up in a heartbeat. That is the least of my worries. I signed with the Sea Lions because of you, Zena. Only you. And now that the possibility is lost, my time is done. I'm out of here."

I stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation. "Finish out the season, Mitch. After that, take your time to explore other offers. Don't bail on the team like that."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do you care what I do? You should be thrilled I'm leaving."

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to salvage the situation. "Mitch, listen. You're an incredible player. I've always respected your skills on the ice, and at no point did I want to see you play badly. That's the truth." I paused, letting that sink in. "But this decision to quit—it's bigger than just you or me. Think about the team, the fans, the kids who look up to you."

There was a flicker of doubt in his eyes, so I pressed on.

"What happened between Zena and me wasn't planned. It just happened. But right now, you need to put that aside because the team needs you. The city needs you. Don't make a decision you might regret. Keep being the hero for the world and in no time, you'll find the person you're meant to be with. Take a day to think it over. I genuinely want to see you and the team succeed."

Mitch looked like he was going to say something, but changed his mind. Instead, he stormed out without a single word, the door slamming behind him with a finality that echoed through the room. Zena and I stood frozen, the weight of what had transpired settling over us like a heavy fog.

As the silence stretched between us, our eyes met, a thousand unspoken questions passing in that single glance. What had I done? And, more importantly, what tsunami of consequences were we about to face?