“So, sweetheart, I have to ask. I’ve seen you in action at LI. No one railroads you into doing anything. How did this even happen?”
“Uh, you have met Mom, right?”
He growled.
Okay. Still not to the joking stage yet. I backtracked and filled in as many details as I suspected my mother had left out.
After a few moments of silent contemplation on his part, he sighed. “It’s highly probable that this Peter guy would’ve signed Jensen without the added incentive of your translation skills.”
“I realize that. I suspect Mom did too.”
Then Dad half snarled, “So this Peter dickhead wanted both my daughter and my wife indebted to him?”
Shit. This was not where I’d expected this conversation to go. My dad was pissed. And jealous. Had I ever seen him in that state? What was I supposed to do?
“Just how much time has your mother spent with this dick-face from her hometown?” he demanded.
“She didn’t tell you?”
He crumpled the beer can in his hand. “Would I be asking you if she had?”
Totally out of my element here. My dad had just crushed a can in his fist like it was a piece of tinfoil. “I’m aware of two meetings. I’ve had more dealings with him than she has.”
“And yet that statement doesn’t make me happy either.”
“I met Axl first because of Jaxson. He asked for my help translating for Axl. Then when Peter knew I was in PR, to be completely honest, I think he just wanted my take on Axl’s image issues, and Mom volunteered my time. Peter didn’t demand it. Mom would want to ensure that Jensen got the best representation, and, well, she’s not above using me to do that.”
“Christ, Annika, that makes me so mad.”
“I could’ve refused. And this is something I haven’t told Mom.” I paused and gulped down two mouthfuls of liquid courage. “I said yes because I’m drawn to Axl, okay? I don’t know if it’s a savior complex that’s just appeared. I don’t know if it’s just physical attraction. But he annoys me and interests me more than any man I’ve met in a long time.”
“Keep going.”
“Axl knew that this ‘favor’ was one-sided. He’s the one who encouraged me the night of the sunset cruise to put the screws to Peter and push for something that benefits me. Not Jensen. Not Mom. Not Peter. Not even Axl. Me. Although Axl said he’d back me to the point where he’d revert to bad behavior until Peter relented. So I did some on-the-fly research and found one thing that Peter Skaarn can do that few others can.”
“What?”
I moved in closer. “My deal with Peter is this does not get out. You cannot tell anyone at LI about this.”
“Done.”
I told him about pitching to R Haversman.
He laughed. “You are truly brilliant and a master strategist. I’m so proud of you.”
Those words made it all worthwhile. “So I can’t blow the pitch session.”
“You won’t. Now back to Axl. Level with me. It’s not all a publicity ploy between you two, is it?”
I shook my head. “After his little reveal last night, I want to get it back to being just about PR because that’ll be easier.”
“This is the man who sent you eleven dozen roses?”
“Yes.”
“And he initiated a fake fight with your brother to push his agent into equalizing the deal for you.”
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart, this is more than just an image update for him too. Have you talked to him about why he kept that from you?”
“No. I sort of exploded and left. I’ve been in avoidance mode all day.”
“Give him a chance to explain.”
My eyes met his. “Will you give Mom a chance to explain?”
He cringed and said, “Ouch. But you’re right. I’ll deal with it. But she’ll also be giving you an overdue apology when I’m done with her.” Then he hugged me. “I love you, sweetheart. I’ll back you, no matter what. Even if you secretly like this Axl asshole, who I know even without meeting him isn’t good enough for you.”
“Dad.”
“Come on, let’s go test Dallas and see if she can read our auras. Think conflicted thoughts. Oh, right, you already are.”
He was such a smartass sometimes. I loved that about him.
Mom gave me the stink-eye as Dad and I strolled over to the food line.
I ended up sitting with Dallas, Ash, Brady and Lennox. Our conversation was devoted to the workings of LI until Dallas said, “Enough. The rule is supposed to be no work talk.”
“So what would you like to talk about?” Ash asked her.
Dallas went doe-eyed. “Annika’s hot hockey hunk.”
Ash shook his head. “Nope. You wanna gossip about boy parts, do it elsewhere. There’s some stuff I don’t want to know.”
“I want to know where your sidekick, Nolan, is,” I said.
“He went to the exhibition game in Chicago.” Ash cocked his head. “Interesting rumor going around LI.”
“There are always rumors and I’d get nothing done if I listened to them.”
Lennox snorted.
“I heard that Lucy, Mimi’s mama, will be working in the PR department.”
I pushed my plate back. “You heard right. She was the most qualified applicant and she’ll be a great fit for us. Plus, it’ll ease her burden as a single parent to have familiar on-site day care for Mimi.”
Ash stared at me in that “I’m the Chief Operating Officer” manner that had most LI employees soiling themselves. But Ash in “I’m the boss” mode didn’t scare me as much as when Brady morphed into corporate officer from hell.
“I’m happy to hear that. If I can do anything to help, let me know.”
My jaw dropped.
“Not expecting that?”
“No!”
“Lucy got a raw deal. No one from that branch of the family will admit it, least of all Jaxson, even now when he’s started to pull his head out of his ass and stepped up to his responsibilities. Mimi is a sweet, smart kid. When Jax sees her once every two weeks in the off-season and maybe once every two months during hockey season? No way can he take credit for it, because Lucy is raising her. He’s a damn drive-by parent.”
Ash’s declaration stunned everyone at the table.
“What? This crap with him has been brushed under the rug for years. Now that it’s out in the open, we’ll deal with it.”
Dallas reached over and squeezed Ash’s hand. “And this is why you’re the best big brother ever, Ash.”
I glanced over at Brady and smiled. Then I realized I hadn’t seen my other big brother in a while. “Anyone know where Walker and Trinity went?”
“I saw them head upstairs when I was inside,” Lennox said.
“Getting busy during a party.” Dallas tsk-tsked. “Let’s tell Trinity that’s a surefire way to never have to host a Lund gathering again.”
“Omigod, no! She will freak out,” Lennox said.
“Too late,” Ash said. He pointed behind us. “Check it out.”
We all turned.
Walker had Trinity pressed against him. He’d bent down so they were forehead to forehead and he was talking to her as she . . . cried.
My stomach did a loop-de-loop. Why was she crying as if her world had ended?
Then we were all on our feet, including Mom and Dad, Aunt Priscilla and Uncle Archer.
Dad said, “Son, is everything all right?”
Trinity faced everyone and tried to wipe her tears, but they just kept coming. “Everything is perfect in my life because of this amazing man . . .” She sniffled. Then she whapped him on the chest. “How could you do this to me at the first party we hosted for your family?”
“Because I wanted them to be a part of it.”
“You tell us now, or I will blow a casket,” my mother warned.
My dad must’ve whispered, “Gasket,” because she waved him off with annoyance and said, “Yah. Whatever.”
/> Trinity took a deep breath. “Long story short. My grandma Minnie left me her pearls, but my stepmother has kept them locked up since I was a kid. The night I met Walker, I learned that my half sister was engaged and my stepmother promised she could have Grandma’s pearls on her wedding day. I demanded them back and she said no. When we ran into my dad and his wife several weeks ago—”
“I cornered her and threatened legal action if she didn’t hand them over,” Walker inserted.
Trinity was running her fingers over the double strand of pink pearls that circled her neck. “He got them back for me. My grandma would’ve been tickled that Walker battled my stepmother for them, because she loved a good story and a happy ending.”
“And I want to make this our happy beginning.” Walker dropped to one knee.
Trinity gasped. “Walker! What are you doing?”
“Exactly what it looks like. Being with you has made me the happiest man alive. I want that happiness every hour of every day for the rest of our lives. You have a shitty family, babe. Marry me. Be part of my family.” He shoved his hand in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ring. “Please say yes to being my wife, Trinity Amelia Carlson, because you’re already my everything.”
Poor Trinity. I almost felt sorry for her because Walker had hit her with a double whammy today—diamonds and pearls.
Dallas leaned her head on my shoulder.
I felt her tears dripping down my arm. I angled my head on top of hers and took her hand.
She whispered, “I want that, Annika.”
I whispered back, “Me too.”
She sighed. “Her aura is glowing. But so is his.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Speaking of auras . . . yours is conflicted. I’m getting two different tones, some anger, some indecision.”
“You’re right on both counts.”
“Of course I am.” She wiggled free and stood in front of me. Her brown eyes were serious and a little sad. “You’ve been avoiding me. I hate that.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just . . .”
“I literally see too much. I get it.” She raised her hand to silence my protest. “Believe what you want about the woo-woo factor, but I know what I see. Think about how much it sucks for me. So don’t avoid me. Say something like ‘Thanks for your cosmic concern, but I need a little more time to figure stuff out on my own first.’ I’d be good with that.”
I hugged her. “I promise.”
“Cool beans.” Dallas started to walk away. She turned back. “Oh, one other thing you should know about Axl: In addition to speaking English, he’s fluent in Russian. Igor told me.”
I was pretty sure my aura had gone completely red.
Thirteen
___
AXL
Sunday afternoon, after I returned home from another especially brutal training session, I cracked open my laptop and checked my email. A news notification popped up and I clicked the link to discover Annika hadn’t gone out of town after all: she’d been out on the town. The caption read:
Annika and Dallas Lund danced the night away in the Koko Club. No sign of Annika’s latest squeeze, hockey player Axl Hammerquist, or Drew Cheney, the center for U of M’s football team, rumored to be involved with the youngest Lund heiress.
Apparently she’d been ditching my calls, because she couldn’t hear her phone ring over the loud club music.
This ignoring-the-issue bullshit was about to come to a screeching halt.
• • •
I showed up at Lund Industries at four thirty on Monday afternoon. I hadn’t planned how to get through security, but as luck had it, one of the security guards recognized me.
“You’re the guy who’s been in the paper with Miss Annika.”
“Yes, I am. I’m surprising her with a romantic dinner tonight. She’s still here, right? I can just go on up?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll have to clear it through her assistant.”
I leaned in, as if to make a confession. “Look. Last week I sent her eleven dozen roses. I don’t know what I was thinking. How am I supposed to top that this week?”
“Yeah, you are screwed.”
“So it’d be great if you could cut me a break just this once. Escort me to her floor yourself if you have to. Trust me, I understand about security. We’ve got guards, such as yourself, posted at three different entrances at the Xcel Center to keep the fans handled. We couldn’t do our jobs if security didn’t do theirs.”
He hitched up his pants. “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll call her assistant after I’ve already sent you up to her floor.”
Better than nothing. “I appreciate it.”
My heart pounded as I watched the numbers on the elevator panel. I had no idea what floor she even worked on. Tension seized all the muscles in my body and I shifted my head from side to side until I heard the satisfying pop of my neck cracking.
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened and a receptionist’s desk was directly across from the elevator. “How may I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Annika. Security called her assistant, so she knows I’m on my way.”
She pointed down a hallway. “Last door.”
“Thank you.”
As I wandered down the wide hallway, I wondered why none of these doors were marked. How were visitors supposed to know where they were going?
Probably not a lot of drop-in visitors.
Behind door number three—another receptionist’s desk. The way this woman eyed me with some familiarity meant I’d just met Annika’s assistant.
I offered my hand. “Axl Hammerquist. Annika is not expecting me.” I flashed my teeth—more in a warning than a smile. “I’ll show myself in.”
“Uh . . .”
I headed for the door behind her desk. Once I’d entered the office, I slammed the door behind me and stormed toward her.
Annika’s jaw hung open for a second before she snapped it shut.
I had my hands on the armrests of her chair, trapping her.
“Axl! You can’t just barge in—”
“Apparently I can, because I’m here. So listen up. I get not telling you that I could speak English was an asshole move. I get that you’re mad and hurt. I am very sorry for that.” I leaned a fraction closer. “But you don’t get to ignore me for three fucking days when I reached out to you, Annika.”
“I don’t need to hear your excuses for lying to me.”
“There’s a difference between an excuse and an explanation. I am here to apologize.”
“I don’t care. I am mad at you. That means I am entitled to ignore you. So wipe that menacing look off your face and stomp your