At least my ex is cordial when Matt happens to show up at the Fetch office. Jackson has never been anything but polite to Matt, and he’s never, ever mocked him about being nothing more than a hookup.
But Kara’s the mother of Matt’s children. I can’t be rude to her, and I definitely can’t criticize her to Matt. That has “jealous new girlfriend” written all over it.
“What do you mean?” Matt sounds aggravated. “But we agreed I’d have them for two days next week.”
I hear Kara’s voice on the other end, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. Whatever it is, Matt doesn’t like it. The tips of his ears turn red, a clear sign that he’s pissed.
“Kara.” He speaks quietly, but there’s menace there. “You can’t just rearrange our schedule to suit you. We—” He stops again, glancing around the booth as if remembering where he is. Then he squeezes my shoulder briefly and mutters, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
I slide out of the booth to allow his escape, and then Blake, Jess, and I watch as Matt marches toward the restroom area with the phone glued to his ear and his shoulders set in a tense line.
“Exes, right?” Blake quips.
The comment is meant to break the tension, but all it does is make things more awkward.
“Have you met her yet?” Jess finally hedges.
I nod. “She’s…all right.”
Blake snorts.
Thoughtful, Jess reaches for her beer and takes a sip. “I’ve never met her myself—she was before my time—but the WAGs don’t have a lot of nice things to say about her.”
I don’t have a lot of nice things to say, either, but I try to tamp down the urge. “She’s the mother of his kids,” is all I say, and I manage a careless shrug.
Jess continues to eye me sympathetically. I know she can see right through me.
I turn away from her steady gaze and focus on Blake instead. “So…nachos?”
The next morning, I keep my promise to Blake and make sure to have the TV on in the break room while I brew another pot of coffee at the small counter. I’m on my third cup already, and it’s not even nine. That’s what happens when you stay up very, very late having sex with a very, very hot hockey player. I was a bleary-eyed, sex-haired mess when I dragged myself out of Matt’s bed at seven a.m. Luckily, I brought a change of clothes, so I was able to shower and dress at his apartment and make it to work at eight without a hitch.
Jenny wanders into the room, holding a travel mug and a stack of mail. “Morning!” she says breezily.
“Morning,” I mumble.
“Someone’s grumpy.”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I answer as I pour myself some coffee.
Jenny grins. “Oh you poor thing! Stayed up all night having sex! How dreadful.”
I flip her off while taking a huge gulp of my caffeine fix, then settle in one of the chairs around the table. “That today’s mail or yesterday’s?” I tip my mug toward the stack of envelopes.
“Today’s.” She heads to the coffeemaker. “Mostly bills, from the looks of it, but there’re a couple things for you and Jackson.”
Setting down my cup, I reach for the mail and begin flipping through it. One item catches my attention. It’s a white envelope addressed to me, with a familiar logo printed on the return section. Huh. It’s from the Toronto Women’s Business Association. I hope I didn’t forget to renew my annual membership fee. It’s a really useful organization to join for a female business owner, particularly for all the free workshops they run every month.
“Also,” Jenny is still chattering behind me, “you missed out on an epic Mr. Dick request last night. He ordered a hundred packages of Jell-O. Who needs that much Jell-O?!”
“Maybe he was hosting one of those naked Jell-O wrestling parties,” I say absently, sliding my fingernail under the flap of the envelope.
“Oh God! Imagine? I’d love to be a fly on the wall of his pervazoid house.” Jenny joins me at the table, lacing her fingers around her mug. “What’s that?”
“Don’t know yet.” I extract a single sheet of paper and unfold it. A small placard falls out of the paper. It’s printed on lovely, thick cardstock and done in calligraphy. It seems to be an invitation to the annual TWBA awards banquet. At first I’m bewildered, because I didn’t know the TWBA even gave out awards.
Then I’m stunned, because apparently not only do they give out awards, but…they’re giving one to me!
“Oh my God!” I squeal so loudly that Jenny jumps in her seat. “Oh my God, Jen! Look at this!”
I shove the paper and invitation across the table. Jenny quickly puts down her coffee and reads both, then lets out a squeal of her own.
“Holy shit! This is so awesome!”
Grinning like idiots, we both do a little happy dance—while still fully seated. Of course, Jackson chooses this exact moment to enter the break room. His eyes bug out as he looks from me to Jenny, taking in our happy squeals and gyrating arms.
“Um. Okay.” My ex-husband smiles as he goes to get himself some coffee. “And what are we celebrating?”
“Me!” I blurt out. I hop out of my chair and pat myself down for my cell phone. Crap. I left it in my office. But I have to call Matt and share this news. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Jenny and Jackson. “Don’t change the channel! I’m waiting for Mornings with Matilda.”
I’m pretty sure I leave two confused people in my wake, because they’ve both known me a long time, and not once had I ever expressed interest in morning television.
In my office, I grab my phone and pull up Matt’s name. He answers on the fourth ring, sounding groggy as hell.
“Hey, Hottie.”
“Hey, Snipes. You awake?” I can’t wipe the silly grin off my face as I stare at the piece of paper in my hands. I probably should’ve left it in the break room so Jackson would know what the heck I was freaking out about, but Jenny can fill him in.
“Barely. Someone kept me up last night.” I can almost hear the smile in his husky voice.
“Well, wake up for just one minute,” I beg. “Let me just tell you my news and then you can go back to sleep.”
“News?” I hear the bedsheets rustling, as if he’s sitting up. “What news?”
“Have you heard of the Toronto Women’s Business Association?” I’m practically bouncing up and down now, and it has nothing to do with the three cups of coffee I drank.
“No, but I’ll take your word that they exist,” he jokes.
“They do. And they’re one of the most influential networking organizations in the city for Toronto businesswomen.” I bounce some more. “And they’re giving me an award! I’ve just been named Entrepreneur Innovator of the Year.”
“Seriously? Fuck, Hottie, that’s incredible! Congratulations!”
“Thank you.” I can’t quit smiling. “And there’s this huge gala next week for the awards ceremony. It’s black tie, open bar.” I hesitate, only for a beat, before continuing, “It’s on Wednesday night. Will you go with me?”
There’s no hesitation on Matt’s end. “Hell yeah I will! Timing works out great, huh? My flight from Nashville lands Wednesday afternoon, so that should give me plenty of time to throw on my penguin suit and be your plus one.”