CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"So, why'd they seat me with you instead of putting Nico at your table?" Dom asked halfway through his salmon entrée, leaning toward Skylar Hanley who sat to his right.

Each team member and their plus one were seated at a different table.

Probably so they would be forced to mingle with the public and be on their best behavior. They'd done the mingling thing during the cocktail and appetizer hour as well and Dom was glad to sit down for a bit.

Though his back would probably be killing him by the time he stood at the end of dinner.

Skylar grinned. "Because they were afraid if Nico and I were together, we'd get in trouble. I suspect Kate told whoever did the seating chart to put us as far away from each other as possible."

Laughing, Dom admitted that was probably wise.

Skylar Hanley was Nico's ex-girlfriend and best friend. Also heir to the largest fortune in the Toronto area.

Her family was wealthy beyond Dom's wildest dreams—hell, they made Travis Rogers look like he earned a pittance—so it was no surprise that the family was being represented here tonight. The elite of Toronto were here, to give generously to the LGBTQ+ charity the team was raising money for.

Although from what Nico had said over the years, Skylar didn't get along particularly well with her parents.

"I think Kate is a wise woman," Dom said.

Skylar smirked. "Me too."

"How is, uh, baby Nicky doing?" Dom asked. Dom had met her and her husband Julius—who sat on her other side—a few times at team events. Their son had been born last spring. To everyone on the team's dismay, she'd named the kid after Nico, who hadn't let a single person forget it since.

Skylar grinned. "Wonderful. Though not a baby anymore! We're coming up on his first birthday in April."

"Time flies," Dom said.

"It does. He's doing well though and I'm finally starting to feel like I'm not in a fog anymore. Thankfully, Jules has been a huge support."

The dark-haired man in question glanced up, smiling, clearly as besotted with her as August was with Nico.

God it was weird . Yes, Julius was August's fraternal twin, but they were just different enough looking that it always threw Dom for a loop.

"Show him pictures, Jules," Skylar urged.

Julius pulled out his phone and brought up some pictures. "You can flip through the album if you want." He passed the device over to Dom.

Truthfully, Dom didn't care.

Kids were fine but he didn't find them particularly interesting. Still, he politely scrolled through the photos and made the appropriate noises of appreciation. And he did have to admit, the shots of Nico and August playing with baby Nicky were pretty cute.

Dom wondered if the tangled relationship situation was ever weird for the four adults.

Nico and Skylar had dated and broken up about a dozen times before finally calling the romance quits for good.

Skylar had gotten pregnant—by some random dude who'd bailed when he found out—and shortly after, Nico and August had met.

Some time after that, Nico had introduced Skylar to Julius.

It seemed strange to Dom but what the hell did he know?

He was an aging hockey player who hadn't had a serious romantic relationship in years. He was involved with an escort and on a date with another escort.

He really had no room to talk about anyone else's personal life.

"So, do you and your family attend this event every year?" he asked Skylar.

Her expression turned disdainful. "Oh, I'm not here on their behalf. I'm attending as Skylar Manning, not Skylar Hanley. My parents and I no longer speak."

"That sounds … complicated," he said politely.

Although he knew something about that himself. He felt a little sliver of pain in his chest when he thought about the last time he'd seen either of his parents.

Christ, he'd thought his mother would want to know Dom had caught his father cheating. With a man.

But apparently not. He'd learned that one the hard way when she'd pretty much disappeared from his life after the divorce.

Last he knew, she was married to some rich French winemaking dude and living in a moldy, crumbling chateau somewhere in Burgundy.

Or was it a castle? Was there a difference?

Dom knew very little about his French heritage.

He'd learned French growing up—his mother and his nanny had both spoken it—but was horribly rusty now. He hadn't had much opportunity to practice it since Theriault left the team and although they could understand each other well enough, Parisian French and Quebecois were rather different things.

"It is complicated," Skylar agreed. "But good riddance as far as I'm concerned. They spent my whole life using my future inheritance as leverage to get me to behave. And after I had Nicky, after Jules and I got married, I just couldn't deal with all of the bullshit. I didn't fucking want their blood money. So I told them to fuck off. And I'm much happier now."

Dom smiled, not at her words so much, but at the tiny, sweet-looking blonde swearing like a sailor.

Although he was glad she was happier. "It sounds like it worked out for the best then."

"Yeah, I mean everyone thinks I'm nuts turning down billions in inheritance but what the fuck am I going to do with it?" she asked, taking a sip of her water. "I don't think any one single human—or family—needs that kind of money."

"Probably not," Dom agreed. "What do you do for a living?"

They talked a little bit about her work as an environmental protection influencer—who knew that was a thing?—and Julius' work at a non-profit in the same field.

When the waitstaff came to clear their entrée plates and bring out dessert, Audra leaned in, speaking very softly in his ear. "First of all, I need to get Skylar's phone number because she sounds like a fascinating person to get to know. And second, you need to look a little bit more interested in me if you want this to be believable."

Dom chuckled. "Sorry, didn't mean to neglect you." He slipped an arm around her, resting it on the back of the chair. She leaned in, giving him a soft smile.

It felt all wrong.

Audra was lovely and funny but if Dom had ever doubted how fucking gay he was, tonight had more than proven it.

It was still baffling to Dom that Shea had only been into women when he'd started working as an escort. And that, apparently, he'd only had sex with a few men by the time Dom had begun seeing him.

It had bothered him at first, made him wonder if he'd forced Shea somehow. Coerced him.

But Shea had said himself that things had changed for him over the years and just because there had never been any ambiguity to who Dom was attracted to, didn't mean that it wasn't true for Shea.

Audra discreetly elbowed him in the ribs. "Now you're making it weird," she muttered against the rim of her glass.

He laughed and shifted away, reaching for his drink. What did he know about how to act? He'd never interacted with someone he loved in public. He had no idea how to fake it.

As they ate their desserts, Dom made an effort to talk to the other people at the table, asking more about their jobs and chatting about the team's chances this year.

One guy made a rather snide remark about Dom's play and seemed to insinuate that him retiring early or being bought out of his contract would help out the team.

Dom gritted his teeth to keep from saying something he'd regret in response and Audra skillfully steered the conversation to another topic.

Dom was grateful. He knocked his knee against hers in appreciation before belatedly realizing that probably wasn't how straight men showed their affection for women, especially not at swanky events like this.

God, he was hopeless, wasn't he?

The pain in his hip and thigh was excruciating by the time they finished the coffee and dessert course and, unfortunately, that didn't mean the event was over. There was also a silent auction and table games in the adjoining ballroom.

Dom stood, hiding a wince, then held his arm out for Audra to take.

She smiled. "You're very gallant."

"I learned everything I know about romance from old movies," he said truthfully.

He remembered watching them with his mother when he was home sick from school, her cool hand on his forehead soothing the fever.

He felt a sudden, sharp stab of longing to hear her laugh, see her smile at him.

It had been a long time since he'd seen her, though he had no idea why he'd been thinking about his parents so much lately.

"Are you okay?" Audra asked softly.

"Yes." He fixed a smile on his face. "How do you feel about gambling?"

"Depends—are we playing poker or blackjack?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Whichever you prefer," he said.

She grinned, her expression turning sharp. "You're going to regret you said that."

She wasn't wrong. She beat him—and everyone else at the table—numerous times at poker and he finally leaned in to speak in her ear after the last hand.

"Careful there, card shark. I think you're starting to piss off the potential donors with the deep pockets," he murmured.

Also, standing in one place for too long was killing him.

She laughed and picked up her purse. "Oh, fine. We can go get a drink if you'd like." She glanced around the table. "Thank you, gentleman. I had fun playing with you."

Everyone said their goodbyes, the men's—and a few of the women's—gazes lingering on Audra's body.

"I suppose I don't want to piss off the donors," she said as they walked away. "This is a great charity. However, I'm a little bit disappointed you pulled me away so soon. I do love a good card game."

"I can tell."

"Maybe some time you should take me to a casino."

Dom gave her a surprised look. "How much would I be paying you for this?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing! Or, at least, no more than what I win from you. I do have friends I hang out with free of charge." Her eyes twinkled at him but he noticed the way she'd lifted her hand to her face, always careful to not let anyone read her lips.

They collected fresh drinks and mingled for a bit. As they neared one of the exits, Audra slowed. "Excuse me a moment. I need to use the restroom."

"Of course."

Almost before Dom could blink, Dustin appeared. "What's the story there?"

"What's what story?" Dom asked, resigned that he was going to get grilled about bringing a female date. "I invited Shea's roommate to be my plus one for the evening. She's lovely, no?"

The sexual and romantic attraction was totally lacking but that didn't mean he couldn't have a nice time with a clever, funny woman.

"She is. I just—"

"You just what?" Dom said with a sigh. "This will get the gossips to lay off so I can focus on hockey. My contract's up at the end of the season, D. I want to contribute to the team however I can, okay?"

"Okay." Dustin said, but he was frowning. It was the ‘I'm disappointed in you' face and Dom might be older than Dustin but it still felt like he was letting down his big brother.

"I wish things were easier for me," he said, looking down at the half-melted ice cubes in his drink. "I really do."

Dustin opened his mouth to reply, then frowned. "Hey, you might want to check on your date. She doesn't look very happy right now."

Dom glanced up, concerned, to see Audra in conversation with Mark Goodwin, the team's executive director for business operations.

Audra was frowning and he had a grip on her arm, speaking heatedly into her ear and looming over her.

"What the hell?" Dom muttered but he was already striding forward. He pasted on a smile and made his tone jovial. "Audra! There you are. I thought I'd lost you!"

She glanced up, her eyes filled with barely repressed anger for a moment before her expression smoothed into something bland and neutral.

"Sorry, Dom." She slipped away from Mark. "I just got to talking with Mr. Goodwin here."

"Oh. How do you—" He cut himself off before he could ask how they knew each other. He could guess. "How are you doing, Mark? I haven't spoken to you in a while."

Smiling, he held out a hand and Mark gave him a tense smile as he shook. "Uhh, I'm good. How are you, Olson?"

They made small talk for a few moments before Mark excused himself, still looking uneasy.

Dom opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on but Audra took his hand, leading him farther down the hall, away from the small handful of people mingling there. He didn't know what to do when she pulled him into an empty alcove.

"We have a problem."

Dom blinked. "Uhh. Yeah, so I noticed. What exactly is going on?"

She glanced around and spoke softly. "Mark Goodwin is a former client of mine."

Dom frowned. "I assume you don't mean you picked out ties for him."

She managed a glimmer of a smile. "Well, I did. But I did a whole lot more than that."

"Shit."

"And we didn't part on the best of terms."

Dom frowned. "Oh?"

"I'll tell you later. But for now, I'd like to get out of here if we can. I hate to ask you if we can leave early but—"

"No, if you need to go, we should go," Dom said, concerned. "Let me tell Dustin. He'll wonder what's going on."

"Of course."

Dom hesitated. "Are you okay with me telling my captain why? All I'd say is that Mark is a former styling client who crossed a line."

She looked relieved. "Yes. That should cover it."

Dom was just about to step into the corridor when Audra caught his arm. "Thank you, by the way. You handled that well with Mark."

"I'm sure you had it under control."

She chuckled. "To be honest, I nearly lost my cool."

"Happens to the best of us," he said. "On and off the ice. If you're lucky, you have someone who has your back."

"Yeah, but you don't have brass knuckles on you." She grinned, lifting her purse.

Dom laughed and they went in search of Dustin.

Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to find him. He stood in the hallway nearby, in deep conversation with Kate.

Dustin looked up as they approached. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yes. Can we speak somewhere private though?"

Kate's eyebrows rose. "Is this something I need to know about?"

Dom glanced at Audra, who nodded. "Yes."

"Then follow me." A few minutes later, they were in a small room that was clearly being used by the team to stage the event. There were folders and binders and assorted boxes of decorations everywhere but it was free of people.

There was nowhere to sit, so they stood or leaned wherever they could.

When the door had shut behind them, Dom said, "Why don't you explain what happened, Audra."

"Well, I work as a stylist," she said. "And Mark Goodwin was one of my clients."

"Was?" Kate said, her expression of concern deepening.

"Yes. He … he crossed some boundaries. Made me uncomfortable. My contract gives me the right to end my working relationship with a client for any reason. I warned him, he kept pushing, and he was quite unhappy when I followed through."

Kate frowned, crossing her arms. "Did he threaten you?"

"Not in so many words. He followed me a few times after appointments, kept trying to get me to talk to him."

"But nothing criminal?" Dustin asked.

"No." Audra shook her head. "Just this side of it. The company refused to work with him anymore, which made him even angrier. But after a while, he faded away. I had no idea why but as long as he was gone, I didn't have any reason to push, you know?"

"Yes, that makes sense," Kate agreed.

"I haven't thought about him in a couple of years though," Audra continued. "I had honestly forgotten that he worked for the Fisher Cats. I certainly never expected to see him here."

Kate nodded. "Why would you? Did he approach you tonight?"

"Yes. I was coming back from the bathroom. He—he got into my personal space and was quite upset. Said he didn't understand what I was doing here with Dom."

Dustin coughed and Dom elbowed him in the ribs.

Kate smirked but didn't say anything. "Did he do anything to threaten you or harm you in any way?"

"He briefly grabbed my arm but he let go once Dom approached."

"Of course," Kate said, exchanging a look with Audra.

"That's pretty much it, I think," Audra said, glancing over at Dom for confirmation.

Dom nodded. "I only caught the tail end but that fits with what I saw."

"So what now?" Dustin asked.

"Honestly, I'd like to take Audra home," Dom said.

Kate nodded. "That would be fine. It's the end of the evening so I don't think too many people will even notice."

"Thank you."

"But what about Mark?" Dustin said. "I know he didn't do anything criminal but I feel uneasy having a guy like that on the staff."

He glanced between Kate and Dom and Dom knew they were all thinking about what had happened in Evanston a few seasons ago. This wasn't the same but it felt uncomfortably close.

And there was the Code of Conduct now. Maybe the asshole had forgotten it applied to everyone employed to the NHL, not just players.

Kate sighed. "Well, I'm going to have to think about what to do about Mark. I'll get back to you about it when I have some ideas."

Dom nodded. "Sounds good."

Kate pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Audra. "If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to contact me."

"Thank you."

Kate looked her in the eye. "I am sorry this happened. I am normally very proud to work for this organization but sometimes a few bad apples need to be rooted out before they spoil everything."

"Thank you. I appreciate that," Audra said.

With that, everyone said goodnight and went their separate ways.

It wasn't until Dom spotted Birdie, Mitchell, and a guy Dom didn't recognize chatting in the hallway that Dom remembered that Mark Goodwin was Mitchell's father.

A jolt went through Dom.

What did that mean? Was there some connection? It seemed unlikely it was a coincidence but this gossip leak had been going on for a while now. Before anyone on the team or in the organization knew about Dom and Shea's involvement.

Hell, it was long before Dom had met Audra.

How could there be a connection?

As they approached, Birdie and Mitchell both waved. "Headed out?" Birdie asked brightly.

"Yes." Audra smiled.

"It's my fault," Dom said, wanting to test something out. "My back isn't feeling up to it."

Concern flickered across Birdie's face. "I'm so sorry. Do you know what's going on yet?"

"No. They think it might be a herniated disc though."

"Oh no!" Birdie winced. "I'm sorry, Dom. That sounds awful."

"Thanks." He glanced around the circle of people. "Don't tell anyone though. Wouldn't want it getting out to the gossip sites, you know?"

Birdie grimaced. "Of course. Sorry you're having to deal with all of that."

"Thanks," he said, studying the other two people's faces. "I appreciate that."

There was a flicker of something in Mitchell's eyes, gone too fast for Dom to interpret, so he glanced at the third man.

Mitchell was about Birdie's age—twenty-three or so—but this guy was older. Closer to Dom's age. Maybe mid-thirties.

He was the sort of guy Dom would glance at and barely register. So nondescript he looked like every other white guy with dull brown hair and blue eyes.

Dom smiled and held out a hand. "Hi, I don't think we've met."

"Joe Griffith." He shook and gave Dom a pleasant smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Olson."

"Call me Dom."

He wanted to say something else, ask some questions to the group that would magically reveal the truth, but honestly, he had no idea what to say.

So he smiled at everyone and said goodbye, Audra doing the same.

They said goodbye to a few more people on the way out and it wasn't until Dom had retrieved the car from the valet that Audra spoke.

"What was that about?" she asked with a frown.

"I'll tell you when we get back to your apartment," he said. "I think Shea should know what's going on too."

Stylists or Something More? Olson's Recent "Dates" Raising Serious Questions.

Saturday evening, Dominic Olson attended the fifth annual charity gala hosted by the Toronto Fisher Cats with the beautiful redhead he's recently been spotted with.

The woman—identified as Audra Morgan—works for Select Image Consulting.

An exclusive, invitation-only company whose services include etiquette and styling services for their clients … and maybe more?

Whispered speculation has suggested that Select Image Consulting offers services that are more personal than simply picking out the perfect pocket square or using the proper fork at a swanky event.

It was discovered recently that Morgan is roommates with none other than Shea Barnett—the man Olson was recently spotted with.

Yes, you heard us right, Shea .

Barnett, who goes by Sawyer when moonlighting for Select Image Consulting, works as a physiotherapist by day.

If there's nothing shady about what he does as a "stylist," why the secrecy?

Although some fans seem content to speculate that Olson, Barnett, and Morgan are simply involved in a love triangle or, perhaps, a ménage à trois, others claim that may be the tip of the iceberg scandal.

Rumors have continued to grow since the release of photos of Mark Goodwin—the Toronto Fisher Cats executive director for business operations—in a cozy conversation with Morgan. In one photo, he's pressed close, speaking intimately with her.

Another client, perhaps?

While fans are divided on what the recent news means, the majority are not convinced the romance between Olson and the stunning redheaded woman is legit.

"Look, we all know that when he played for LA, Olson was involved with Allie Barnes, who has since come out. This is the same thing all over again. Olson is gay, Audra Morgan is his beard, and he's another rich asshole paying for sex because he doesn't want to come out of the closet."