Chapter 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Lola

Hands wrapped around my coffee mug, I’m sitting waiting for Marcus to arrive at Moose I don’t want anything to do with her.

And I can understand why Wade and her don’t talk either.

She’s an embarrassment.

Miranda Collins: the devil in Jimmy Choo shoes.

“I’m surprised Wade can’t see the similarities between you and your mother.”

“Miranda,” I state. She doesn’t deserve the coveted title of mother. “And I’m surprised he hasn’t figured out you wear colored contact lenses to hide your blue eyes that look just like his,” I counter, feeling snarky. “You went to great lengths to disguise who you are, Marcus.”

Kali told me Marcus has been wearing colored lenses since Wade was drafted to the Eagles to hide his identity.

“I’m not proud of any of it, Lola.”

“You shouldn’t be,” I reply deadpan. “None of you should be. I don’t blame you or my father or Miranda. I blame all of you. What you did to us was––inconceivable.”

“Your coffee, sir.” Declan places Marcus’s mug of steaming coffee on the table. “I’ve locked up and I’ll be in the training room if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Declan,” I express my gratitude as he leaves us alone.

“This was the first coffee shop your father and I opened together,” Marcus says, scanning the space.

“I know.” In four weeks, we are tearing it apart. “It’s about to have an extensive remodel.”

“I know you’ll do a great job.” He sighs, turning his attention back to me. “I’m sorry, Lola. About everything. I was young and selfish. Stupid.” Marcus takes a tentative sip of his drink.

“It’s done now. And we have to move forward.”

“You were clever to apply for a position with the Eagles, Lola. I admire you for seeking the truth.”

“That’s been my goal since dad told me.”

Marcus, my father, and Miranda may have torn us apart, but I’m determined to fix the damage and bring us back together. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m trying to stay hopeful.

Marcus stares into his coffee cup as if remembering what happened all of those years ago. “You were just two years old, and Wade was four when your dad discovered our affair,” he starts. “He overheard Miranda and me talking about how Wade was mine and how he hadn’t worked that out yet. He was so angry. The things he said to me, I’ll never forget.” He shakes his head as if unable to deal with the memories. “He kicked Miranda and Wade out, and made the decision that he didn’t want to see them again.”

“Something, which he told me he regretted doing every single day of his life,” I inform him. “It was so cruel. I wish you had talked him out of it.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me. Everything was done through a lawyer. I had to agree to walk away from our businesses we invested in together. He got custody of you, while Miranda got custody of Wade. We all signed a non-disclosure agreement to ensure none of us ever spoke about it again, and that was it.”

I lift my mug of coffee to my lips and take a sip. “It all sounds so clinical.”

“It was.”

“It was selfish,” I add.

“I agree.”

While it’s difficult for me to accept what he and Miranda did, his previous life choices don’t define who he is now. It was more than twenty years ago. So much time has passed. It’s time to move forward and not look back.

We all make mistakes. Believing a guy who told me he loved me within a week of us dating and agreeing to marry him is a prime example.

My misjudgment is something I've regretted every day since.

By comparison, the three of them are worse. Still, we all act sometimes without thinking through the consequences.

“Did you pay Miranda child support?”

“Lots. I paid for all his hockey lessons, uniforms, extra training.”

“Out of guilt?” I ask.

“Partially. But mostly because I saw how talented he was. I went to every game. He just never knew it.”

“He’s going to hate it when he finds out Zane is his half-brother.” That might hurt worse than finding out Marcus is his dad. Wade hates him.

“They fight like blood brothers.”

“Because they are.”

“It’s all a bit of a mess, Lola.”

“How is Zane?” I haven’t seen him since he was suspended for attacking Kali.

“Better.” His jaw twitches. “His therapy sessions are helping.”

“The consequence of not being able to do what he loves will be killing him,” I state, knowing how important hockey is to every single member of the team. Their career is their passion, their purpose, and what drives them.

“I've been protecting him and covering his ass for way too long. Trust me, he won’t be permitted to return to the team next season if his therapist doesn’t sign off for him to do so. The cocky little bastard needs to be taken down a peg or two.”

“Like brother, like brother,” I say, my voice full of humor, making Marcus smirk before his face falls.

“Lola, I’m sorry about your dad. He was a good man.”

“Before he died, he said you were a good man too. You were his best friend, Marcus.” I have to ask the question that’s on the tip of my tongue. “Why did you have an affair with her?”

His voice sounds heavy as if the weight of his sorrow makes it hard to form the words. “Honestly, I don’t have an answer.” He fiddles with the handle on his cup. “Miranda and I fooled around throughout college, then she married your dad and then we just sort of kept happening. I can’t explain it.”

“What are you going to tell Nicki?” The time is ticking by. He’ll have to tell his wife about Wade at the same time as Kali and I tell Wade about me.

“The truth. Which is what I should have done years ago.”

I nod in agreement. When he puts it like that, it all seems so simple.

I hope for everyone’s sake it is.

“I’m not sure I can ever fully forgive you all for what you did.” My father is not exempt.

“I understand.”

“I would like to thank you though, for helping Wade. He would have lost everything had you not intervened. So, thank you.”

With Marcus being his father, his intervention makes sense. Had it been any other player busting fellow team members’ noses, making front pages of the tabloids for all the wrong reasons, and getting pulled out of police cells every other week, they would have been fired or transferred to a nowheresville team by now.

“I was trying to make it right, Lola.”

“You did.” I take another sip of my coffee and then push the mug away. I love coffee, but for some reason today, it tastes weird. “Are we doing the right thing by telling them?” I ask, doubtfully.

“It’s time, Lola.”

“Do you think Nicki will leave you?”

“I hope not. You may not think so, but I do love my wife.”

“That’s none of my business, Marcus.”

“It sort of is.”

“It’s not. I have enough happening in my own life.”

“You’re doing a great job, Lola. With your dad’s business and with Wade.”

I don’t feel like I am. “I discovered I had a half-brother and a mom who I thought was dead, although she might as well be. My dad died. My fiancé cheated on me before Christmas, and now I am homeless because my ex talked me into selling my father’s house, so I’m currently living with Wade. I’m house hunting, which is the worst thing ever, and juggling eighty percent of my time being Wade’s assistant at the same time as trying to keep tabs on all of this.” I wave my hand, gesturing to the coffee shop, just one of the dozens of establishments I now own. “I’m exhausted. Oh, and to top it all off, my ex stole over a hundred thousand dollars from my account.” I shake my head. “Not doing that great, Marcus. I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

I hate the look of pity in Marcus’ eyes.

Maybe I shouldn’t have overshared, but to hell with it. This is my reality. “And I feel like complete crap today,” I add, pushing my hair off my face. It’s not even ten o’clock in the morning and I could do with a nap.

My shoulders deflate from the relief of sharing how I feel.

Marcus drums his fingers against the tabletop. “Take the day off. Go home. Sleep. Rest. Take the week off if necessary. I’ll speak to Wade.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Lola.” He leans forward and takes my hand. “Look, I may have messed things up with your dad, you, and Wade, but let me try to make it right. I can help you find a house.”

“I’m too fussy.” I justify my reasoning. “I don’t like anything. It’s either too big, or too small, not in the part of town I want, or doesn’t have a nice backyard.”

“You’re overwhelmed. You can’t think straight when your brain is busy.”

He’s right.

“I like living with Wade. It’s nice.” I pull my hand away, feeling slightly awkward that the man my mother had an affair with is touching me. He’s not being inappropriate, but it just feels weird. “He said I could live there indefinitely.” I don’t plan on doing that, but if I stop searching for a house, it would give me one less thing to think about. That already makes me feel better.

“No house hunting. You’re taking the week off. That’s an order.”

A whole week off sounds indulgent. “Okay,” I agree.

“And book a spa day. My wife loves the damn things.”

That sounds like heaven.

Marcus pushes his hands through his white hair, exhaling as if relieved. “Thank you for today, Lola. We needed this.”

“This doesn’t make us best friends or anything.” I have to hold back my smile because I can’t stay mad at him forever. He’s making an effort, and that’s all I wanted.

“And here was me thinking we would make friendship bracelets later,” he says, lifting the heavy mood between us.

“Guess you’ll have to cancel the friendship bracelet making class I’m sure you booked then.”

“Smart ass.”

“Jordy calls me that,” I let slip.

“Jordy?” he asks.

“And Wade, Daryl.”

“Spike,” he adds. “You’ve made an impression on the team.”

Phew, that worked.

“In a good way, I hope.”

“You have.” Marcus checks the time on the wall clock. “I need to get going. I have a slammed schedule today.”

I had one planned for myself today too, however, going home for a nap sounds like a much better idea.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” I stand and wobble on my feet, feeling lightheaded. “Ohh.” I grab the edge of the table at the same time Marcus helps to steady me.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

I stand straight and touch my forehead. “I skipped breakfast. I’ll be fine once I have something to eat.” The thought of putting anything past my lips makes my stomach spasm.

“Sit,” Marcus instructs. “I’ll have your manager—Declan, was it—make you something.”

“Thanks.” I remain standing. “So…” I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Do I hug him, shake his hand? Thank him for sleeping with my mom and destroying our family?

I opt for nothing and fold my arms around myself to let him know I won’t be doing either.

“Get some sleep, Lola. Please. And we’ll see you back at work next week.”

I nod. “Thanks, Marcus.”

After he instructs Declan to make me something to eat, he leaves, and I sit back down at the table.

Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.

Pulling my phone out of my purse, over the next half hour, I check my messages and emails, which I haven’t had time to do this morning.

I reply to the important ones, then text Wade to let him know Marcus approved a week's vacation. Before closing them down, two emails drop into my inbox in quick succession.

I frown at one from Escape Spa and read it aloud. “Welcome Ms. Ramsay to Escape Spa. Your yearly membership is now active. Please download our app from the app store to activate your membership using the link below.” I scroll further down to check its legitimacy.

“What the hell?” I open the second email. This one is from Marcus. In shock, I read the words faster than my brain can keep up with.

--------

Lola,

I signed you up for a membership with Escape Spa. Please use it. You deserve it.

Also, I asked people operations for your bank details. There should be a deposit of $150,000.00 into your account that should appear immediately. I hope that covers what your ex-fiancé took from you.

Have a great day,

Marcus

--------

I re-read the email again.

Is this for real?

I race to open my banking app to check the balance and right enough, there it all is.

Holy fucking shit.

I call Marcus, who picks up on the first ring, but when I go to speak, he railroads me, and I can’t even get the first word through my lips.

“I don’t want any arguments, Lola.” It sounds like he’s walking as the noise of car horns and footsteps drift down the phone. “Just take the money and the membership. This isn’t up for discussion. It’s the least I can do—and honestly, it doesn’t even begin to make up for what I did. Get some rest, Lola.” And he hangs up.

Oh, my God. I think I might cry.

My chest is tight, and I can feel the emotion burning inside.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” I chant to myself like a guided meditation.

That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, and when Jordy took me to build a snowman in the park. Maybe this year will be okay after all.

I look out of the window to discover someone watching me, and all the happiness I feel disappears quicker than the crack of a whip.

Graham.