Chapter 22
Monkeys are everywhere! Exploring the caves of Gibraltar, and don’t forget the rock. The melding of cultures, from Southern Spain, Genoa, Malta, Portugal, and Britain make this place a foodie’s paradise. Just don’t feed the monkeys.
~ Adventurous Amanda, February 2015
“I’ll be back in two hours,” Betsy said, dropping her purse on Amanda’s desk with a thud as she pulled on her coat. “You should have Molly and Don’s latest articles in your inbox. I need them edited, with any corrections from them completed by the time I get back for a final read through before they are submitted. And I should have an interview popping in right when I’m due back. In case I’m running late, tell them to sit tight.”
“An interview?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, we’re looking for another writer, to float between the departments. Travel, food, health and wellness,” she said with a dismissive wave.
“I didn’t realize a position was opening up,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. Betsy knew that Amanda wanted a full-time writing position, but this was the first time Amanda was hearing about an opening.
“It wasn’t announced. Calvin and I had a few candidates we wanted to pursue. Hopefully we can get this wrapped up quickly,” she said, either unaware or uncaring about the tension that had just entered the room. Betsy breezed right past it as she walked through the door, leaving Amanda to stew.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Amanda looked around the office, resisting the urge to throw something. Absolute bullshit. While she was red-lining articles and fetching kale smoothies, hoping with each Splenda kernel that they would tap her to move up to full-time writer, they were looking elsewhere. She wanted to walk out, cut her losses, and move on to a place where her opinion and words were valued, but she was still waiting to hear from Charlotte.
It’d only been a week since her interview. An interview she still hadn’t told Ben about. But with each day that passed, with each moment with Ben, she questioned if she could move. Would she be walking away from the first real relationship she’d had in years—no, that she’d ever had? She was in love with him. Head over freaking heels. Like the insanely tall heels Lexi preferred. She’d never put a man, a relationship, before her career goals. But it was Ben.
And now this total bullshit from Betsy. Amanda couldn’t stay at the magazine. She stared at her computer screen, the words fuzzy in front of her as she tried to focus, to push back her anger. Storming out wasn’t the answer, finding a new job was. But why did it have to be on the other side of the country? Traveling four months out of the year would strain their relationship, but actually moving—well, she wasn’t sure she could do long distance.
She shook her head. She was getting way ahead of herself. She didn’t have the job. Hell, they were still interviewing people. And Ben hadn’t said anything about what they were or where they were going. But her gut told her that he wasn’t getting rid of her any time soon—nor did he want to. She wanted to tell him exactly how she felt. But she also wanted to wait and hear back from Charlotte. Maybe she wouldn’t get the job and they could just exist as they had while she figured out what to do next.
Bottom line—she couldn’t stay with San Francisco Life. Fuck. She was so freaking pissed.
“Hey, you going to the game tonight?” Ann asked, popping up next to Amanda’s desk. Amanda hadn’t heard anyone coming, she was so lost in her own head.
“What? Sorry,” she said, giving Ann a smile.
“Everything okay?”
She rolled her shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah. Just the usual.”
“Ah. Is she extra dragony today?” Ann asked, the corner of her mouth tilted in a smirk.
Amanda coughed out a laugh. “You think of her that way, too?”
“Yes. Pretty sure everyone does.”
“Today’s been a little brutal. Can’t wait to get out of here in a few hours.”
“You and me both. So are you going? To the game?”
“Yeah. Are you going? Start of round two tonight. I’ll be there screaming at the guys,” she said. Just thinking about Ben on the ice skating for what he wanted more than anything made her smile. She couldn’t wait to watch him hoist that Cup over his head in a few weeks. The Strikers had looked great in the first round, winning in six games.
“Yes. I ended up getting a ticket from a friend. Actually got decent seats. I’m excited to go,” Ann said, leaning against Amanda’s half-wall.
“Sorry I never got us tickets. Everything’s been up in the air recently,” she said, not sure why she was telling Ann this, but she felt bad for never getting around to actually making plans with her. The woman had tried on multiple occasions to be friendly with her.
“Is everything okay? You’re dating Ben, right? The captain?” Ann asked. Amanda could’ve sworn she heard a slight hitch in Ann’s voice, but she brushed it off, as Ann smiled at her.
“Umm. Yes. It’s new. Both great and confusing.” Amanda let out a soft laugh.
“They usually are,” Ann said. “We should meet up at the game tonight.”
“Yes. Here’s my number. We can meet for a drink between the first and second period.”
“Great. See you tonight,” Ann said, after they exchanged contact information.
“See you then. And fingers crossed, they win.”
Ann laughed. “From everything I read, the players are superstitious as hell, so I bet they’re crossing fingers and toes.”
“Yeah. Ben is pretty superstitious.”
“I bet,” Ann said, and then turned and walked back down the hall.
Amanda glanced at her phone. It was right around nap time for him. Too bad she couldn’t be there to help him relax before the game. Not that she was currently in the mood for a G-rated nap. She had some frustration to get out, and in bed with him was the perfect place to do that. Win or lose, tonight he was all hers. She fought back the shiver that rolled through her at that image.
***
The music pumped through the sound system later that night as the players took the ice, the pucks sailing over the boards as the guys started to warm up. Ben and Ethan skated over to them, tapping on the glass.
“Nice to see you brought another hat,” Ben said.
She grinned. “You better get me a hat trick then.”
He shook his head, his dimples peeking out as he smiled. Giving her a nod, he skated to center ice, snagging a loose puck on the way, and shooting it toward the net. Her eyes never left him during the entire warm-up. Especially when he dropped down to stretch out his hips right in front of her. His cheeky grin told her that he knew exactly what he was doing. Flexible, crazy stamina, and built like a solid tree she enjoyed climbing. Fuck. He was hot. And when she finally got him home…
“I’m having a hot flash,” she grumbled, breaking her gaze from his perfect ass to look at Penny.
Her gaze was focused on Ethan across the ice, doing the same thing. “Me too,” Penny said with a sigh.
Amanda laughed. “They do this on purpose, you know.”
“Oh, I know. And I’m not complaining. He can preen all he wants.”
Amanda shook her head, refusing to look at Ben again. “I forgot to mention that one of my co-workers is here tonight. I told her we could meet her for a drink during first intermission.”
“Sure,” Penny said. “Speaking of work, any news on the job front?”
“No. And before you ask, I haven’t told Ben.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m in love with him and I’m afraid I’ll lose him if I get this job and take it, and I’m afraid I’ll lose myself if I don’t take the job and stay here, and Ben and I don’t work out.” It was the first time she’d said it out loud. Her fears and her love for Ben. She’d planned to tell him tonight. The love part, not the job part.
“Oh, Amanda. You can’t do this to yourself. To him. Not that I want you to take off again, but this is your dream job, and they were really interested in you, right?”
Amanda nodded, her gaze shifting back to the ice as the guys skated off. Ben was the last one out there. As Ethan headed down the tunnel, Ben turned and gave her a wave and a grin, and then headed after his teammates. She wasn’t ready to walk away from him. Not by a long shot.
“So, how set are they on you relocating to New York? I mean, you’re writing travel pieces, why can’t you keep a home base here since the locations you’re writing about will be out of the country anyway?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t press them on the move. I wanted to look like the best and most flexible candidate. And who knows if I even have the job.” She wanted this job, especially after the shit Betsy had pulled on her today. She needed to get out.
“When they offer it to you, ask how serious they are about you moving. They could be flexible.”
“Or it won’t matter because I won’t get the job.”
“Oh, you’ll get it,” Penny said, grinning.
“Lucky charm and psychic? Your powers never cease to amaze me,” she teased.
“Shut up and let’s cheer on our boys. They need this win. Lucky charm or not.”
Amanda settled back in her seat. Maybe they would let her stay in San Francisco. Maybe Ben would confess how much he loved her. And maybe she was starting to believe in fairytales.
“Keep on him. Keep on him,” Ben yelled out to Dom on the ice, before taking in a deep breath. He’d just come off the ice and was gassed. They were halfway through a penalty kill, and Dom was tangled up with Edmonton’s top forward for the puck. The Strikers were up three to one at the start of the third, and all of his teammates could taste the win. Ben just hoped to hell they didn’t get cocky and blow it. The player that Dom was battling with was too close to the Strikers’ net.
It didn’t matter that it was only the first game of the series. Edmonton had been on fire all season, and the Strikers hadn’t been able to find a way to beat them during the regular season. That had to change tonight. Chasing Edmonton would not end well. His team was playing strong tonight, but if they lost their footing and Edmonton caught up…
He paused and shook his head, focusing on the ice.
“Get it out of there,” Harty yelled next to Ben on the bench. “Fuck, we need this cleared out. It’s like that guy breathes near the net and ends up scoring,” he said with a grimace.
“No shit,” Ben mumbled, before yelling out again, “Come on, boys. Let’s go!”
Dom snagged the puck, finally knocking it free and passed it to Baz, who sent it flying down the ice, clearing it out of their zone. Dom went after it. Getting a short-handed goal right now would be perfect, but one of Edmonton’s forwards snagged it and brought it back toward Gally.
The puck banged off the pipes as Gally’s arm went up. A few inches lower and it would’ve been a goal. Ben scooted down the bench, his eyes darting between the penalty kill clock and his teammates. Twenty seconds left. Then ten. Edmonton’s goalie banged his stick on the ice, alerting his teammates to the dwindling clock, but the Strikers held on and killed it. Millsy exited the penalty box and entered the fray.
It’d been a bullshit penalty. Not that Millsy hadn’t slashed one of Edmonton’s forwards, but the other guy had tangled up with Millsy first. And only Millsy had ended up in the box. At least they’d killed the penalty and were back at full strength.
“Get out there and get one in,” Bugsy called out as they did a line change, and Ben and Harty jumped over the boards and onto the ice.
Harty grinned at Ben. “You heard the man,” he said, heading toward the puck Edmonton now had since Baz had dumped it in order to get fresh legs on the ice.
But Edmonton’s star forward grabbed the puck first and headed down toward Gally. The Strikers’ defensemen weren’t in the right spots. Fuck. That’d been a bad change. As the goal horn sounded, Ben bit back another curse. They couldn’t let Edmonton tie it up. But fifteen minutes was a long time, so when Edmonton ended up in the penalty box and Dom scored during the power play, Ben threw up a silent prayer of relief. A two-point lead was good. Three would be better. One meant every move was scrutinized.
And then Edmonton’s top scorer dumped it in the back of the net again. Shit. He glanced at the bench. Bugsy was pissed and yelling at the guys, pointing at the white board the assistant coach held, and then back toward Gally. Three goals in under two minutes was rare and only good if your team was the one getting all of them in.
He looked across the rink, spotting Amanda. She was yelling along with the crowd. “We want the Cup. We want the Cup.”
Well, no shit. He wanted it a hell of a lot more. It was almost as bad as them shouting “shoot it.” He tuned out the crowd and slid onto the bench, waiting for the TV timeout to end. Bugsy yelled for them to get their heads out of their asses and play like they had in the last game against Calgary last week.
“We can do this, guys. Hold the lead. Aim for their goalie’s blocker side. He’s been slow to get it up in the last period. If we hit the pipe, we hit the pipe. Just keep going,” Ben said, grinning as his teammates nodded at him. Bugsy patted him on the helmet.
“You heard your captain. Now get out there. Keep their captain away from Gally. That kid has a shot that I haven’t seen in a long time, and I’d like to stop seeing it tonight,” Bugsy chimed in.
***
They managed to hold Edmonton back for the final twelve minutes, and when the game ending buzzer sounded, the guys flooded the ice, back slaps all around. It’d been a hard-fought game. They would all be like that, probably worse, as they inched closer to their goal. People didn’t call it the hardest fought trophy for nothing. It was a grueling pace, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The guys raised their sticks to the crowd as the arena shook with cheers, and then headed down the tunnel. He skated around the perimeter of the ice and stopped in front of Amanda.
“You were awesome,” she said through the glass, her cheeks pink, her eyes twinkling. “But I still have my hat, Cheese.”
He barked out a laugh. “You know that I’m not known for hatties, right? It could be a long time before you see another one. Your hat is going to be safe for a while.”
“You never know. I predict the next game,” she said, grinning.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Keep your phone on you. I’ll text when I’m on my way up,” he said. At least he wasn’t one of the stars of the game. One less interview he’d have to do.
He was going to take the fastest shower on record. Too bad he couldn’t sneak out before giving the requisite sound bite. He wanted Amanda. At home. In his arms. Hopefully without clothes. Although he should probably tell her he loved her before they stripped down. Would she say it back? He refused to believe that what they had wasn’t love. He wanted her every second of every day, and not just beneath him.
He wanted to talk to her about anything and everything. He wanted to experience all the vacation spots she could think of. Not that he had any plans to bungee jump off bridges with her. He had to draw the line of common sense somewhere.
He shook his head and laughed. He’d probably jump off a bridge for her—as long as they were tied together.
Watching her in the stands, screaming her head off, hat clutched in her hand that he knew she ached to toss over the glass, turned him on more than it should. But it also squeezed his heart. He wished his mom was here to see how happy he was. That he’d found that one person to share what his parents had.
Fuck. He was getting way too sentimental for the end of a hockey game. He breezed through his shower and made a beeline for the dressing room to grab his phone. He wanted her standing in front of him now, so he could kiss the hell out of her and then take her home. He couldn’t wait to continue whatever adventure she had in store for him.