Power Play, page 3
“Here you go.” Harper put a plate in front of Brandy with a sandwich and some kind of chips that didn’t look familiar to me.
“What are those?” Brandy asked, wrinkling her nose.
“How about you try them before you make a face?” Harper responded without missing a beat.
“Okay.” Brand held up the funny-looking chip, inspecting it before taking a tentative bite. She chewed thoughtfully. “It’s a little sweet, but salty too.”
“They’re sweet potato chips,” Harper said. “They’re my favorite.”
“They’re okay.” Brandy nodded, taking a bite of her grilled cheese.
“What do you say?” I prodded her gently.
“Thank you!” She grinned up at Harper, who smiled back.
I hadn’t planned on the two of them meeting, and certainly not like this, but it seemed to be going okay. I’d worried how Harper would react since my stance on having kids was one of the things that had come between us. I’d assumed she would be furious, and maybe she was, but even so, she would never take it out on Brandy. She wasn’t like that. She annoyed the crap out of me, but she wouldn’t be mean to a kid.
“You’re welcome.” Harper washed her hands and dug something out of a drawer. “These are the keys to the guest house and a remote for the garage, if you want to use it. I only use one of the three spaces.”
“Thank you.” I nodded. “I appreciate this, Harper. This really helps me out.” I glanced at Brandy. “I’ll, uh, explain more after I get back.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She looked at something on her phone. “Well, I have a call in a few minutes. You guys are welcome to finish eating or whatever.”
“Thanks.” I nodded. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Have fun at Disney!” Harper said to Brandy.
“Thank you.” Brandy waved as Harper left the room.
I followed her retreating figure with my eyes, taking in the curve of her ass, long slender legs, and the way her hair moved as she walked.
We hadn’t been great together when we were married, but she was still the most beautiful woman I knew.
“All right, finish eating and then make sure you wash your dish,” I told Brandy.
“I will.” Brandy inhaled the last of her sandwich, stuffed the last few chips in her mouth. Then she got up and went over to the sink.
Leaning against the counter, I watched as she turned on the water and started washing the dish. Tricia was doing a good job with her. Sometimes I wished I could be around more, but it was probably better that I wasn’t. I loved her, and made sure she had everything she needed, but I often wondered if I was a good dad since I only really saw her in the off-season.
As I waited for Brandy to finish washing the dish, I glanced at the papers strewn across the island. I wasn’t trying to be nosy, but one folder in particular got my attention.
#Donor 67891
Donor?
Was Harper sick?
Was this something left over from her husband’s illness?
Curiosity won out and I couldn’t help but open the file.
The information in front of me was confusing.
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Dark blond
Height: 6’2”
Weight: 195 lbs.
Ethnicity: Polish, Slovak
What the hell was I reading?
I skimmed the rest of the sheet and suddenly it clicked.
Holy fucking shit.
Harper was looking for a sperm donor.
3
Harper
Meeting Gabe’s daughter had been jarring. I had known she existed, of course, but seeing a petite little female version of him in person had been unexpected. She looked just like him with dark hair and silver-gray eyes. They had the same smile too, despite her missing a few teeth. Well, that was the same too since I knew he was missing his two front teeth as well. He simply wore a bridge, from what I remembered.
God, it seemed like a million years ago that we’d been married.
We’d been so in love once upon a time.
Until everything fell apart.
Losing him had been so hard.
When I’d met Edward, he’d soothed my battered heart, showing me a gentleness I’d never experienced before. He’d been sixty-one to my twenty-nine, but we’d clicked. He’d made me feel safe and cherished, something I’d never gotten from Gabe. But Edward’s sons hated me, my friends thought I was crazy, and his friends had tolerated me like an annoying pet, but we’d been happy. Even with the failed artificial insemination attempts and his cancer diagnosis, we’d been a team.
Then the cancer came back, terminal the second time, and I’d lost him within a year.
It still didn’t feel real sometimes.
“Hello, Harper. How are you?” Henrik’s voice brought me out of my reverie, and I forced myself to focus.
“Hey, Henrik. How’s the move going?”
“I think we’re finally settled,” he replied.
“So, you’re good to go to Vegas in two weeks?”
“Absolutely.”
“I also wanted your opinion on something.”
“Sure.”
“What do you think about Dom Gianni for GM?”
“That’s an interesting choice. I don’t know him personally, just by reputation, but Toli Petrov talks about him as one of his best friends, so I’m sure we’ll get along. As far as his skill set for being a GM, I have no way of knowing that, but I trust your judgment.”
“I think he’s perfect for the job,” I said. “I just want to make sure you two don’t have any issues from when you were playing and scouting. I should have asked you before I spoke to him, but I was anxious to get the ball rolling.”
“No problem at all. Our paths never crossed.”
“Great. He and his wife are coming to town next week and I’m going to do a formal interview. Assuming things go well, I’ll invite them to dinner. If that happens, I’d like you and Autumn to join us. Is that possible?”
“Sure. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
“Thanks. I’ll text you details once I know them.”
“Anything I can do to help.”
“I appreciate that. And let me know if you need anything.” I paused. “Have you filed for full custody yet?” He and his fiancée were planning to get custody of his eight-year-old twin boys.
“Yes. Last week. My ex is pissed. The boys are with her now and she won’t even return my texts. I’m sure it’s going to be a battle.”
“I’m sorry. I hope it’s not too much of a shit show. I know firsthand how court cases can be.”
“My attorney says it may be difficult to take them from her, especially since Autumn and I aren’t married yet, but we’re working on that.”
“If she doesn’t want the whole big wedding, Vegas is the perfect place to do it,” I said, chuckling.
“That’s what we’re debating. She had a huge wedding planned when she was engaged to her ex, and it put a bad taste in her mouth. I don’t want her to give up her dream wedding because it would be more convenient for my custody battle, you know? So we’re batting around some different ideas.”
“Absolutely. But if she loves you, and I’m sure she does, she’s going to want something that works for both of you.”
“Yeah. For sure. That’s what we’ve been discussing. In the meantime, I’m going to emphasize the fact that Lydia’s boyfriend doesn’t like the kids, how her new job takes her out of the country regularly, and how much more freedom she’ll gain if she lets me have primary custody.”
“I hope it works out,” I said gently. “I’m sure it’s been stressful.”
“We’ll get through it.”
“I’ll be in touch soon. We’ll need to meet before Vegas.”
“Just let me know.”
“Take care.”
We disconnected and I wandered back to the kitchen, grateful that Gabe and Brandy were gone. She was a sweet kid, but I needed to keep my distance from him. We always wound up arguing, so it was best to just keep things casual. Even if he was going to be living practically on top of me.
I’d have to set some boundaries.
He and his daughter couldn’t just wander in and out of the kitchen whenever they felt like it.
He had to stay in the guest house and pretend like I wasn’t even here, barring emergencies.
It would simply be easier that way.
As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed that one of them had washed the dish her sandwich had been on.
That was when I spied the napkin sitting on top of one of my files, immediately recognizing Gabe’s scribbled handwriting.
Thanks for making Brandy lunch. Appreciate it. Gabe
It shouldn’t have been a big deal.
Except it was sitting on top of one of the files I’d received from the sperm bank.
Shit.
There was no doubt in my mind Gabe had seen it.
It wasn’t any of his business, and I didn’t care what people thought of me, but it was still a little weird. It reeked of desperation, as if I couldn’t find a man to have a baby with.
I guess that was somewhat true.
Dating had always been hard for me.
Yes, I was attractive and had no problem getting men to pay attention to me, but I’d only loved two men in my life, and everyone else paled by comparison. Gabe had been rough and immature and a terrible husband, but he was also funny, so good-looking it almost hurt to look at him, a successful professional athlete, and an incredible lover. He had many faults, but I wasn’t perfect either, so I didn’t put all the blame on him. Loving him had been easy. It was just the reality of our disparate lives that had become a problem. Not to mention how much he’d loved to party.
And now we were going to live together again.
I nearly rolled my eyes at the irony.
Then there had been Edward.
He’d been handsome for someone in his sixties, kind, generous, and the most attentive man I’d ever known. He liked to shower me with gifts, but he also enjoyed spending time with me. Playing chess, talking about sports and business and current events. We’d had a lot of fun together.
Our sex life had been fine until he’d gotten sick, but I hadn’t held that against him. I would have been happy, even without sex, if he’d lived because he’d been an amazing human being.
Unfortunately, I’d lost both men I’d loved, and the handful of dates I’d gone on since Edward’s death left me convinced I was better off alone. I’d found love twice in my life, which was more than most people, so I harbored no illusions that I’d find it again. My new career and hopefully a baby in the next couple of years would be plenty.
I didn’t need anything else.
Donor #68966 sounded boring even on paper, and my eyes blurred as I scanned the information that had been sent to me. So many nameless, faceless men. It was nothing but statistics. Hair color, eye color, height, and weight. There were other variables, like blood type and such, but mostly it boiled down to looks. Did I want a man with blue eyes like mine, maximizing my chances of having a blue-eyed child? Did it matter if he was six-one or six-five?
I wanted a baby so badly, but the more I looked through the papers, the less enthused I was about doing it this way. I had a handful of male friends who probably would have been willing to donate their sperm to my cause, but how did you ask someone to give you a child and not be part of its life?
I didn’t like to think about the past, or my useless mother, but I couldn’t help it sometimes. Especially lately. I already had a good idea of all the things I never wanted to do in that regard. The bigger question these days, in the wee hours of the morning or when I was in the shower, was what kind of mother I did want to be.
My mother hadn’t been able to care for me and one day when I was ten, she simply decided I was too much. I’d come home from school to find a social worker waiting for me, and my life had never been the same.
I’d never been the same.
I wanted to be there for my child, no matter what, but there were a lot of things to consider.
How would I handle the time constraints of being a hands-on hockey team owner with a child who needed and deserved my attention? When they were sick or had trouble with homework or a baseball game? My mother had never bothered to do any of that, so I had no experience with it, but I assumed it was time-consuming. And I wouldn’t have a lot of that going forward.
I closed the files and stuffed them into my junk drawer.
As much as I didn’t want to put off trying to get pregnant, I needed one season to find my footing as the new owner and, at least right now, acting president of the L.A. Phantoms. There was no time for pregnancy or a newborn. It just wouldn’t be smart. There were only so many obstacles I could tackle at once, and the Phantoms were a big one.
In addition, I would have to be more careful with what I left lying around in the future. I planned to tell Gabe he couldn’t come in without knocking, but I still wanted to be mindful of things left out in the open. I had contracts and other things related to the team he didn’t need to see either. For the dozenth time, I wondered why I’d agreed to let him live here.
If I was honest, it probably had to do with keeping him in my corner.
That was a little more self-serving than I’d planned, but if I had something to hold over his head—like kicking him out—maybe he’d do exactly what I hoped he would in the locker room: Defend me. Keep the guys from talking shit. Or at least keep them from being overly crude. It was a pro sports locker room. Crude was part of their DNA. But there were limits. And I needed Gabe to be that gatekeeper.
His leadership abilities and years in the league were the main reason I’d brought him here. He was a great goalie, elite back in the day, and young players looked up to him. My hope was that in addition to what he’d bring to the team in net, he’d also be good for morale. He was at the end of his career, turning thirty-seven soon, so if I was only interested in skill, there were quite a few goalies that were better. However, there weren’t any that had his experience and skill that I had an in with, though.
So, if there was a slight loss of privacy by having him live here for the season, I’d deal with it. The good far outweighed the bad.
At least, that was the plan.
Not that Gabe played by anyone’s rules but his own, so I’d have to keep an eye on him. He could be stubborn and self-absorbed, which meant he would be focused on whatever his priorities were instead of mine. And that made sense.
As long as there was some loyalty to me, that was all I needed.
Hopefully, our past wouldn’t interfere with the present.
4
Gabe
Brandy and I had a great time visiting Disneyland and San Diego. I liked spending time with her because it had begun to occur to me that she was growing up faster than I’d anticipated. It felt like just a couple of years ago that she’d been born, but now she was walking, talking, playing softball and tennis, and was developing a huge personality. I loved her because she was my daughter, but I also liked her.
Maybe my opinion was slightly skewed since I only saw her on vacations. There was no day-to-day interaction where I had to deal with homework, report cards, or any of the other things my ex did on a daily basis.
I was lucky in that respect, which was why I never bitched about child support and always sent extra when it came time for school supplies, extracurricular activities, birthdays, and other holidays. I was aware that I didn’t have to deal with the hard stuff, and I was the fun dad. Sometimes I rationalized, telling myself it was better that way, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if it would be a good idea to move to Milwaukee when I retired. That way, I’d be around more, could see her more, and could help out Tricia, my ex.
I wasn’t quite ready to retire though, so for now, I had to focus on the mess that was my new home.
I’d taken Brandy home yesterday and gotten back to L.A. late last night. After a good night’s sleep, I had a ton of work to do. There were boxes everywhere, the place needed a good cleaning, and I wanted to get my TV mounted on the wall ASAP. I wasn’t overly fussy about my living space, but a California king bed and a big-screen TV were non-negotiable.
The place was a disaster because Harper had been using it for storage so maybe she’d be able to help with getting it clean. I was sure she had a cleaning service, so I’d be willing to pay extra for them to include me in whatever her cleaning schedule was.
I also needed groceries and to figure out if the stove worked. Harper had said it hadn’t turned on the last time she’d tried it, and though I preferred to grill if I had to cook, there were always exceptions to that. I’d gotten used to being a bachelor, which meant having a fully functional kitchen.
Since it was after ten and I figured Harper would be up, I walked across the patio and peered into the kitchen. I was just about to knock on the sliding glass doors when I realized she wasn’t alone.
There was a guy with her.
Shit.
My fist was in mid-air, frozen in place as I debated whether or not to knock, when the guy seemed to spot me. He said something to Harper, and she turned. Then she came over to the doors and slid them open.
“Hey, Gabe. What’s up?”
“Good morning.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “I had two questions and need a favor.”
“Start with the questions.” She didn’t appear to be in any hurry to invite me in or introduce me to her friend.
“Does the oven in the guest house work? I tried turning it on and nothing happened, but I wasn’t sure if I should try to repair or buy a new one or what?”
“It’s old,” she admitted. “How about we buy a new one? Do you want input, or should I just make it happen?”
