Alpine Embrace

Chapter 18

The buzzer sounded to end the second period. The score was still tied 1-1.

"Intermission!" Lena announced, jumping up. "Time to refuel. That hit took five years off my life. I need champagne."

The VIP box had a private door that led to an exclusive lounge area, a sleek space with white leather sofas, a marble bar, and a wall of windows overlooking the snowy mountains. It was beautiful, expensive, and intimidating.

I followed Lena, still holding Mia’s hand. I felt like a sore thumb in my oversized jersey and messy bun. Every other woman in the room looked like she had just stepped out of Vogue.

"Don't let them scare you," Lena whispered, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one to me. "They bite, but they're mostly toothless. Like Sven."

I laughed, taking a sip. The bubbles hit my nose.

"So," a voice drawled from the nearest sofa. "You are the one wearing Number 44."

I turned.

Sitting there was a woman who could only be described as the Queen Bee. She had platinum blonde hair, diamonds the size of ice cubes on her fingers, and a gaze that could freeze water.

"I'm Chantal," she said, not offering a hand. "My husband is the Alternative Captain. Number 10."

"Hi," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm Kelsea."

"We heard about the avalanche," Chantal said, inspecting her manicure. "Terrible business. You lost your luggage?"

"I lost everything, actually," I said. "Including my dignity when I had to be dug out of a snowdrift like a buried turnip."

A few of the other women chuckled. Chantal didn't smile.

"And now you are living with Jaxon?" she asked. The question was sharp. "In Elena's house?"

The room went quiet. The ghost of Jaxon's wife was always there, it seemed.

"I'm staying in the guest wing," I lied smoothly (technically, the guest wing existed, even if it was a pile of rubble). "Until the roads are fully clear and I can sort out my travel."

"He gave you his jersey," Chantal pointed out, eyeing the fabric. "That is... significant. Jaxon is very private."

"He's just being a good host," I said, shrugging. "He didn't want me to get cold."

"He never gives away jerseys," Lena interjected, winking at me. "He usually makes people buy them at the fan shop like peasants."

Chantal narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something else, probably something cutting, when the lounge door opened.

Sabine walked in.

She wasn't looking at her phone this time. She was looking right at me. And she looked furious.

She marched across the room, her heels clicking like gunshots on the marble floor.

"Ms. Burbank," she said, her voice tight. "A word?"

"I'm listening," I said, not moving. I took another sip of champagne.

"I thought I was clear about the 'low profile'," Sabine hissed, lowering her voice so the other wives wouldn't hear (though they were all blatantly listening). "Walking into the VIP box wearing that? It's a statement."

"It's a shirt, Sabine," I said. "It has sleeves. It covers my torso. It's functional."

"It has his name on it!" she snapped. "Do you know what the press is going to do with this? 'Mystery Woman Claims Heart of Grieving Hero.' It's messy. We have sponsors to think about. We have an image."

"I think his image is fine," I said coolly. "He just checked a guy into the next zip code. I think the fans are happy."

"You don't understand this world," Sabine said, stepping closer. She smelled of expensive perfume and ambition. "You are a distraction. Jaxon has been fragile for three years. If you play house with him for a week and then leave? You will break him. And if you break our star player before the playoffs, the city will run you out of town."

Her words hit hard. Not the threat about the town, I could handle angry fans, but the part about breaking him.

Am I going to break him? I wondered. Am I just a rebound? A port in the storm?

I looked down at Mia. She was eating a cookie, watching Sabine with wide eyes.

"You're mean," Mia said suddenly.

Sabine blinked, looking down. "Excuse me?"

"You're mean," Mia repeated, wiping crumbs on her unicorn parka. "You talk like the bad witch in my storybook."

"Mia, hush," I said gently, though my heart swelled.

"No, she is!" Mia insisted. "Kelsea isn't breaking Daddy. She fixed the lights. She made the stars. And Daddy laughs now."

Mia looked around the room at the other women.

"Daddy never laughed before," she declared. "But he laughs when Kelsea draws pictures of him."

Silence fell over the lounge again. But this time, it felt different. The judgment in the air evaporated.

Chantal, the Queen Bee, stood up. She walked over to us.

She looked at Sabine.

"Back off, Sabine," Chantal said. Her voice was bored but authoritative. "The kid likes her. That's the only vote that counts."

Sabine flushed red. "I am just doing my job, Chantal. Managing the brand."

"The brand is winning games," Chantal said. "And if Jaxon is laughing? He plays better. Let the girl wear the damn jersey."

She turned to me. For the first time, her icy expression thawed.

"Nice to meet you, Kelsea," Chantal said. "If you need a stylist for the next game, so you don't look like a drowned rat, call me."

"I'll... keep that in mind," I grinned.

"Good." Chantal raised her glass. "To the third period. Let's go watch them beat Geneva into the ice."

The buzzer sounded. The intermission was over.

As the women filed back into the box, Lena squeezed my arm.

"You survived," she whispered.

"Barely," I muttered, my hands shaking slightly.

"You did good," Lena said. "You didn't fight back. You just stood there. And Mia... man, that kid is your best bodyguard."

"She's something else," I agreed, looking down at the little girl who was currently trying to put a cookie in her pocket for later.

I looked at Sabine, who was furiously typing on her phone in the corner. She shot me one last glare before exiting the lounge.

I took a deep breath. I had won the battle with the WAGs.

But down on the ice, the real war was restarting.

Jaxon was out there. He was bruised. He was tired. And he was playing for me.

"Come on, peanut," I said to Mia, grabbing her hand. "Let's go watch Daddy win."