“Sam.” The bride reached out and gave him a big hug. She was beautiful and soft and smel ed great. She’d make Ty a good wife. Hel , any man a good wife. Any man but Sam. Sam wasn’t the marrying kind of guy. Obviously.
“You’re a beautiful bride,” he said, and pul ed back to look into her face.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that conversation we had in St. Paul.”
They’d had a conversation? She was smiling, so he must have kept it clean.
“I couldn’t get you al invited to a party at the mansion, but I did invite a few Playmates here tonight.”
Oh, that conversation. She’d promised him and the guys an invitation to the Playboy mansion if they won the Stanley Cup. “I noticed.”
“I’m not surprised.” She laughed. “I had the wedding planner make sure she sat you at their dinner table.”
Under normal circumstances, that would have been welcome news. He pushed up the corners of his mouth. “Fabulous. Thanks.”
“I hope that makes up for my broken promise.”
“We’re square.” He took a step back, and general manager, Darby Hogue, and his wife stepped forward to offer the bride and groom their congratulations.
Sam took a drink, and over the top of his glass, he spotted the Playmates. They weren’t hard to pick out in a crowd. They were the four girls with big hair and bigger breasts, surrounded by Blake, Andre, and Vlad. Four on three was an uneven play. He figured it was his duty to even things out. He lowered his glass but didn’t move.
Autumn. He just couldn’t work up the proper enthusiasm required to chat it up with women in short skirts and low-cut blouses. Not while his babymama circled, looking for a reason to hate him even more than she already did. If that was even possible. Instead, he struck up a conversation with Walker and Smithie and their wives. He smiled and nodded as the women talked about their own weddings and the births of al their children. Thank God Walker interrupted his wife just as she was warming up to a poop story.
“Did you hear the front office is looking to trade Richardson?” Walker asked.
Yeah, he’d heard. He liked Richardson. He was a good, solid wingman, but with Ty retiring, they needed a more versatile guy. One who could kil penalties as wel as play the wings. “Do you know who they’re looking at?”
“Bergen, for one.”
“The Islander? Huh.” The last he’d heard, Bergen was stil in a slump.
“And then,” Walker’s wife said through a laugh, “he cal ed out, ‘I poo in the potty, Mommy.’ ”
Screw it. “See you around,” Sam said, and headed for the playmates. He didn’t care what Autumn thought. She was an uptight bal -buster, and there was nothing wrong with a little conversation with four beautiful women.
Autumn knelt between the bride’s and groom’s chairs and went through the rest of the schedule. Autumn was a list maker, both in business and in life. When it came to weddings, she knew the list by heart. Just in case, though, she had every detail written in her folio. It was after eight, and the dinner and toasts were just about over. Faith looked exhausted, but she only had to get through the cake cutting and first dance before the groom could take her home.
Autumn herself might get home at midnight. If she was lucky.
“Thank you,” Faith said. “You’ve kept everything running smooth.”
“And on time,” Ty added, who’d never made an effort to hide his desire for a very smal wedding. But like most grooms, he’d caved to the desires of the bride.
“You’re welcome.” She looked at her watch. “In about five minutes, Shiloh wil invite everyone to meet you in the Rainier Room.”
“Could you do it now?” Ty asked, but it was more of a demand than a question.
“Not everyone is through eating,” Faith protested.
“I don’t care. You’re tired.”
“You can’t expect everyone to just get up and leave.”
“Mention the open bar,” Ty suggested to Autumn. “They’l trample over each other to get to the free liquor.”
Autumn laughed as she rose. She buzzed her assistant and told her to mention the open bar when she invited the guests to join Faith and Ty in the other room. As she moved from behind the bride and groom’s table, her gaze landed on Sam, where he sat charming the pants, or more appropriately, the thongs, off the Playmates. They laughed and touched his shoulder and looked at him like he was a god. There had been a time when the sight of Sam with a beautiful woman or two would have carved out her heart. When she would have wanted to curl into a bal , but those days were long past. He could do what he wanted. As long as he didn’t do it in front of her son. Which she suspected he did because he was an irresponsible horn dog with jock itch on the brain.
She moved from the room as Shiloh picked up the microphone and made the announcement. She checked and rechecked her list. The cake was ready to be cut, the band ready to play, and the two bartenders ready to sling drinks. She had a few moments and ducked into the ladies’ room. As she washed her hands, she looked at her face in the soft lighting. Growing up, she’d hated her red hair and green eyes. Al that color against her pale skin had been too much, but she liked it now. She’d grown into her looks, and she liked the woman she’d become. She was thirty years old, had an event-planning business that al owed her to pay her bil s and raise her son. The child support she got from Sam more than covered the expense of raising a child. It al owed her to pay cash for her home and vehicles and take vacations. But at the same time, she knew that if she had to, she was financial y able to take care of Conner on her own.
She dried her hands and opened the door. The economy always affected her business, which was why she’d expanded it to encompass a variety of events instead of just limiting herself to weddings. She was currently planning a Wil y Wonka birthday party for twenty ten-year-olds for next month. Getting al the props and vendors for the party had been a chal enge, but fun. Not as much fun as weddings. Planning weddings was what she loved best, ironic given her past.
She moved down the hal through clumps of wedding guests making their way to the Rainier Room. There were a lot of beautiful and wealthy people at that night’s event. There was nothing wrong with that. Autumn made her living catering to beautiful, wealthy people, as wel as those on tight budgets. She enjoyed both, and as she knew al too wel , wealthier didn’t always mean easier. Or that the bil was paid on time. As she passed Sam, he separated himself from a group of his teammates and a few of the Playmates.
“Autumn. Do you have a minute?”
She stopped a few feet in front of him. “No. I’ve got thirty seconds.” They had a son, but she couldn’t imagine what they had to talk about. “What do you need?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but the cel phone clipped to her belt rang, and she held up one finger. There was only one person in her phone with that “Anchors Aweigh” ring tone, her brother, Vince. And Vince wouldn’t cal unless there was a problem.
“Hey, Carly just phoned,” he said. “She’s sick and can’t watch Conner. I have to be at work in half an hour.”
It was stil too early for Autumn to leave. She moved to a quieter spot in the hal and said, “I’l cal Tara.”
“I did. She didn’t answer.”
Autumn ran through a metal list of options. “I’l cal his day care and see if they’l take him… Crap, they closed a few hours ago.”
“What about Dina?”
“Dina moved.”
“I guess I can cal in sick.”
“No.” Vince had only had this latest job a week. “I’l think of something.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. Sitter problems were difficult for every single mother. The odd hours of an event planner turned those hours into a nightmare. “I don’t know. I guess you’re going to have to bring Conner here, and I’l have one of my workers entertain him for a few hours.”
“I’l get him.”
Autumn looked up over her shoulder. She’d forgotten about Sam. “Hang on.” She lowered the phone. “What?”
“I’l get Conner.”
“You’ve been drinking.”
