Besideit was another picture of a coolly smiling, tuxedoed Beckett Miller standing ona red carpet surrounded by scads of people behind velvet ropes. Hugging hisbicep possessively was a dark-eyed, leggy woman in a glittering white gown thatdove to her navel, exposing nearly every square inch of her breasts. How dothey do that? Glue? Olive-skinned and nearly his height, she exuded a regalair. Wow. He’s certainly upgraded since DU.
“Who isshe?” Paige pointed at the beauty.
“YamilaHesham,” Katie shrugged. “He was engaged to her for about a minute.”
“Andher?” Paige pointed to a different picture of Beckett leaning against a vintageblue-and-white Corvette convertible beside a different—though equally dark,equally sleek—woman.
“That’sAsha Cain, the heiress; he dated her last year. They went to polo games, richpeople stuff like that,” Katie offered. “He makes the rounds with all thebeautiful, high-class celebrities. Which isn’t surprising given he owns amansion in Cherry Hills Village with garage space for twelve cars, amulti-million-dollar spread in LA, a restaurant, a winery, God knows what else,and makes a gazillion dollars.”
Paigeswiveled her head to her assistant. “How are you such an expert?”
“He’smy future husband, so naturally I gather intel.” Katie returned to the samedrawer and pulled out three more magazines, which she dropped on top of 5280.One was called Celebrities USA. The cover featured Beckett Millerwearing an open, faded blue denim shirt that offered a peek at his chest andabs, and jeans with the top button undone. The caption read, “Can Hockey’s BadBoy be Tamed?”
Notlikely.
Katie,the future ex-Mrs. Beckett Miller, piped up, “He was a runner-up for SexiestMan Alive two years ago. I hear he slept with one of the judges, and thatpissed off the other judges, so he lost out.”
“Withall your ‘intel-gathering,’ you must know about his other bad behavior. I’mtalking about the girl who OD’d.”
Katieflapped a hand in the air. “They couldn’t prove anything.”
“But hewas the only one there!”
“How dothey know? He’d been partying with a bar full of women before that.” Katie’schin firmed.
“Andyou want to date someone like that? I thought you had better taste—and higherstandards,” Paige snorted.
Katiesighed, batted her eyes, and darted them to the ceiling. “He’s pretty nearperfect. He just needs the love of a good woman to set him straight.”
“Yeah,right. The love dump is littered with the broken hearts of women who havesaid—and believed—those same words. Just ask his ex-lovers and ex-fiancées.”
“Heonly has one ex-fiancée,” Katie sniffed. “And she was all wrong for him. Sointroduce me!”
“Idon’t know him!” Paige lied, but only a little. She didn’t know him, andhe certainly hadn’t recognized her. “And even if I did, no way! Besides,neither of us is his type. Look at these women,” Paige said as she flippedthrough pages with endless pictures of Beckett Miller and tall, glossygoddesses. “We’re too short, too round, too old.”
“You’renot round. You’re curvy.”
“Yeah,and nothing like those six-foot-tall Amazons who probably can’t buy a drink legally.Wait! Why are we talking about me? He’s your dream lover.”
“Yes,but you know him now. I can live vicariously through you.”
“Idon’t know him! You have this all worked out, but you’re overlooking onevery important roadblock to this delusional romance. Actually, three. I’mmarried, I’m in love with my husband, and I don’t like Beckett Miller.”
CHAPTER 5
Can’t Find My Way Home
When Beckett re-entered Coach’s office an hour later, PaigePaulson had been replaced by Peter Gillaspie, the team’s general manager. Evenwith Ms. Paulson’s sharp tongue, this was a poor bargain because as asses went,hers was much easier on the eye than Gillaspie’s. But then, what wasn’t nicerto look at than the GM’s sorry, bony butt? And right now? Beckett would ratherbe anywhere but here with Coach and Gillaspie. This was not going to turn outwell. He braced himself.
“Have aseat, Miller,” Gillaspie instructed. Really bad.
Beckettsat—more like perched—and nodded to both men.
Coachleaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk. He gave Beckett asympathetic smile. So bad. I am so fucked. God, I hope they didn’t trade meto the Islanders.
“Miller,I’ll come right to the point.” Gillaspie’s face was expressionless. “It’s no secretyou haven’t been the same since Minneapolis. The numbers don’t lie. You’reheaded for a sixteen-point season, and you got most of those before Minneapolis.Your plus-minus is minus thirty-seven. When we got you, we expectedconsistency—your average of forty points and a plus-minus well in positiveterritory. Not this shit.” Gillaspie pulled in a breath.
Hereit comes.
“We’vedecided it would be best for the team if we put you on waivers. We’ll announcetomorrow. If another team doesn’t claim you, you’ll be sent down to the AHL.”
“Wha—”This is so much worse than being traded to the Islanders.
Beckett’schest compressed as though Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson had him in a vice grip. Hewanted to say, “I’m still that tough-nosed, stay-at-home defensemen who can putup fifty points a year!” He also wanted to say, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorry,” but he’d said it so many times that it sounded hollow, flat, and ithadn’t helped in any case. Hadn’t helped the girl, her family, or her fiancé.Hadn’t kept Beckett from suspension or drug dependency classes. Hadn’t keptlawyers from sniffing around, and it certainly hadn’t helped Beckett keep hisguilt in check. And now, apparently, it hadn’t kept him from losing his job.
Insteadof saying any of those things, he said, “Why not just trade me? I haven’tplayed in the minors since … since I was a minor!” Thoughts of sharing crampedlocker rooms with kids whose voices had barely broken, of taking busses insteadof private planes, of having to schlep his own gear, of having to prove hebelonged on the roster with his fists, all roared through his brain at once.And if this was permanent? Fewer zeroes on his paycheck.
Gillaspiegave him a cold, hard stare, the slight curl of his lip a dead giveaway he wasenjoying this. “I tried shopping you, Miller. No one will touch you, not withthis mess hanging over
