Married To The Hockey Devil

The contract

Chapter 3

The Contract

Mason's POV

Every screen in my penthouse showed the same footage on a loop. My fist connecting with that man's jaw, over and over, from six different angles, six different news channels arguing about who I really was without knowing a single thing about that night.

I turned the television off itdidn't matter. My phone kept buzzing with the same headlines anyway.

Diane walked in without knocking, the way she always did when things were bad enough that manners stopped mattering.

"Nike pulled out this morning two more sponsors are meeting this afternoon to discuss doing the same. If we lose one more, the league starts talking about suspension instead of fines."

"I heard you the first time."

"I don't think you understand how close this is, Mason. One more headline and there is no saving any of it. Not the captaincy, not the endorsements, not the reputation you spent ten years building."

She sat across from me, arms crossed. "The marriage is the only thing that moves the needle fast enough you know this."

I hated every part of that plan. I'd hated it since the first time Robert suggested it in a room full of people nodding like it was obvious, like handing my life over to a stranger was a reasonable business decision i didn't trust people.

I especially didn't trust women who looked at me and saw dollar signs instead of a person, and I had met enough of them to know exactly what that looked like.

But there was one face that kept cutting through all of it, uninvited, showing up every time I closed my eyes.

The waitress.

She hadn't smiled at me the way everyone else did, that practiced, hopeful smile people give me right before they ask for something. She hadn't reached for her phone.

She hadn't looked at me like I was worth more standing than sitting down, more famous than human. She had looked me dead in the eye and told me I was being rude, like I was any other customer who didn't deserve special treatment just because of who I was.

Nobody talked to me like that not in fourteen years.

"There is a woman," I said finally. "A waitress. I want her."

Diane raised an eyebrow but didn't ask questions. That was the one thing I respected about her she found Emma Collins within two days.

She agreed to meet three days after that.

The conference room felt too formal for what this actually was, glass walls and a long table meant for negotiating hockey contracts, not marriages.

I was already seated when the door opened and she walked in, nervous but not the kind of nervous that made people fold. She looked like someone bracing for a fight, not backing away from one.

I stood and offered my hand out of habit she looked at it and didn't take it.

"I'm not here because I'm impressed by you," she said, before I had even said a word. "I want that clear before we start."

Something in my chest loosened slightly, and I almost smiled for the first time in weeks nobody talked to me like this either.

"Noted," I said, and sat back down.

Robert laid the contract out between us, walking through the terms like he'd rehearsed it a hundred times, which he probably had.

Public appearances, cohabitation the image of a happy marriage for the length of the season five million dollars at the end of it.

Emma listened without interrupting, her jaw tight, her hands folded on the table in front of her like she needed something to hold onto.

"I have conditions," she said, once he finished.

"Go on."

"Separate bedrooms always." She held my gaze like she expected me to argue.

"You don't get a say in my personal life outside of this contract, and I don't get a say in yours. And when there aren't cameras around, we don't pretend. I'm not interested in playing a role twenty-four hours a day."

I studied her for a moment most people who sat in that chair would have asked for more money, more perks, more access. She was asking for boundaries.

"Agreed," I said.

Robert glanced at me, surprised I hadn't pushed back on any of it, but I didn't need to. Everything she'd asked for was fine by me. More than fine.

It meant I wouldn't have to pretend to be something I wasn't behind closed doors, and it meant she wasn't in this for anything more than the money on the page.

We went through the rest of it in silence mostly, signatures and initials, Robert explaining clauses neither of us was really listening to anymore.

When it was finished, Emma stood, gathering her coat like she couldn't wait to be out of the room.

"We will be in touch about the courthouse date," Diane said.

Emma nodded once and turned toward the door.

"One more thing," I said.

She stopped and turned back, arms crossed, waiting.

I don't know exactly why I said it. Maybe because every woman who had ever come close to me eventually wanted more than what I was offering, and I'd learned the hard way what that cost.”

“Maybe I just needed to hear myself say it out loud, so there was no confusion later, no soft moment I'd have to walk back.

"Don't fall in love with me."

For a second she just looked at me, and then she laughed, short and genuine, like it was the funniest thing she'd heard all week.

"Trust me," she said, already turning to leave, "that is the one thing you never have to worry about."

The door closed behind her, and I sat there in the quiet conference room a long time after she'd gone, staring at the space where she'd been standing, wondering why her laugh was the first thing all week that had actually made me feel something.