Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“That’s interesting,” Zara says. “I used to say the same thing and look at what happened to me.”
I laugh when they start to fight about how and when they got together.
“I don’t know about you,” I say, getting up from my chair, “but I can say that I will never ever get involved with one of my clients.” Little did I know, the universe had other plans for me!
Chapter 2
Ralph
The sound of ringing startles me, and I sit up in bed because I’m not sure where the sound is coming from. Picking up the baby monitor from the side of the bed, I put it to my ear and say hello. I blink two more times, then snatch the phone off the side table to stop the ringing by swiping right.
“Hello?” I say, trying to sound awake, but my voice comes out groggy.
“Shit,” Becca says, her voice almost a whisper. “Did I wake you?”
“Why are you whispering?” I chuckle. When I got the contract and was traded from Edmonton to Dallas, I hired Becca as my agent. She came highly recommended and is cutthroat with her deals. She always has her clients’ best interest at heart and hasn’t let me down once. She helped tremendously after everything went down with Cassie.
“I’m whispering because I thought you were sleeping, but I have no idea why. It’s a reflex thing,” she says, sounding a touch out of breath.
“Where are you?” I ask, and she huffs out a bit harder now.
“I’m on the treadmill,” she says. I lie back down in bed and look over at the video monitor on the nightstand. Ariella sleeps in the middle of her crib without a care in the world. “Is Ari up?”
Ariella Cassandra Weber. We call her Ari or Princess, and we baptized her the same day we buried Cassie, but it’s all a blur for me. Being in the delivery room, then Cassie being rushed to the operating room, and then in the blink of an eye what was supposed to be the best day of our lives turned out to be one of the worst days. Yet I couldn’t just break down and drown my sorrows. No, I had a little girl to take care of. I was all that she had.
Becca begged me to hire someone to help with Ari, but I refused. I went through two months of almost zero sleep, but I was there every second of every day. I went back on the ice a week after Ariella was born. Becca stayed with her in one of the rooms while I played. I was so out of it on the ice, wondering if Ari was okay, that I didn’t see the hit coming my way. Before I knew it, my ass was on the ice, and I’d banged my head hard enough that I suffered a concussion.
Watching every game with her lying on my chest, I would tell her all about hockey. After a month, the doctor still hadn’t cleared me, and when we didn’t make it to the playoffs, I took the time to heal.
To say raising her was hard is the understatement of the year. I asked Siri everything. Sometimes, I called her pediatrician four times a day. With her first diaper blowout, I stripped her naked and took a shower with her. I would spend my days talking to Cassie about Ari. I would crave the dreams when I saw her hold Ari in her arms and sing to her. But then Ari would wake, and the crying would start. I’d be up again, and the nightmare would be real.
“Not yet,” I say into the phone, “but she will be soon. What’s up?” I get up now and walk slowly to the kitchen to start my coffee.
“I was wondering if you had time to talk about some sponsorships.” She blows out a breath. “I know I’m going to sound like a broken record, but you need to get on social media.”
I groan. “Seriously, Becca, I don’t have any time for that.” Grabbing my cup of coffee, I walk to the bottle maker and press the button, then wait for it to spit out a heated bottle.
“You haven’t updated your Facebook page in three months,” she says. “And I was the one who did it. These sponsors look for a presence on social media.”
“I hate it,” I say. Taking a sip of the hot coffee, I lean against the counter and look out into the backyard.
“So you need to hire someone to do it for you,” she says, and I put my head back.
“I’m already trying to hire someone who I’m comfortable with to stay with Ari. That has taken me four months now, and I’ve gone through seven people.”
“You need Candace Richards.” She mentions a name that sounds familiar. “She’s the one you want. I know her, but I also know she has a waiting list.”