Finding Carson Lee (Oh Captain, My Captain 3)

“Hey,” I say firmly. “We’re not married anymore. I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

Carson comes back into the kitchen in a loose pair of jeans and a tight gray t-shirt. His tattoo is still exposed.

“Everything okay, Kinley?”

I nod.

“Well, come on then, Elliott. Let’s get this over with.”

I watch my ex-husband walk away from me, and I let out a sigh of relief. I feel like a shitty person. He was a good guy, and I screwed him over. Maybe someday he’ll forgive me.

I look around the extremely large kitchen, and I’m sure my half of my apartment will fit in here. In fact, I know my whole apartment would fit in the living room. I mean, who in the world needs thirty rooms in one house? I guess Carson Lee does. Talk about over the top. I look at the back deck window and see a massive warehouse in the progress of being built. What the hell is that going to be?

“Kinley.” I turn to see Carson and Elliott standing there. “You sure you’re okay?” Carson asks again.

“I’m fine, really.”

“It was good to see you again, Kinley,” Elliott says before shaking Carson’s hand and leaves.

“Should I fire Elliott?” Carson cautiously asks me.

“No, don’t fire him.” I wave my hand away at him. “He’s excellent at his job and honest. Whatever he’s doing for you will be great.” That’s the truth. Elliott is a hard worker and good at his trade.

“How do you know him? Are you getting laid?” Carson scoffs.

I’m not sure if I should tell him, but I might as well. “No, Carson. Elliott Blake is my ex-husband. He’s the one who divorced me. My mama was telling you about him the other night.”

“Oh. I guess you’re ready to work then?”

“Yes, please.” I’m thankful that he changes the subject.

Carson heads over to the black rod iron table, and we sit down. I pull out the papers. My boss finally approved of the campaign, and I’m really excited to tell him.

“Are you ready to hear all about your summer adventure with me?”

“Don’t really have a choice, but sure, why not?”

“Well, get ready because we’re going to spend a lot of time in Utah.”

“Utah?” His face scrunches up in confusion. “You want me to spend my summer there? As long as I can get laid, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Well, you can import whatever Ice Girl you need as long as you’re at the shoots on time and dressed. Speaking of which, we’ll need to get your measurements. You, of course, will be getting all the clothes first, and I need to make sure I have the right sizes.”

“You may need a yard stick for some of my measurements.” He wags his eyebrows at me.

I groan. “And I’m sure a toothpick will be needed for others.”

“Ha. Ha,” he jokes back. “What is the theme or whatever you want to call it for this thing anyway?”

I giggle. “It’s very simple, and perfect for you. It’s Fashionable Bad-boy.” I show him the proposal. “We’ll have about five female models in the women’s clothes, and then you’ll be the only guy. But please remember, no orgies when the camera is rolling. This isn’t going to be a porno,” I sternly tell him.

“That is one thing I can say I don’t do. No recordings.” He continues to thumb through the papers.

“I’m so glad to hear you have standards. We’ll be in Utah almost the entire month of July, and it will be a variety of shots. This will be a national line, and LSMP is banking on your reputation to push it over the top. There will also be commercials that will be filmed during this time, which is why we’ll be there so long. I will have a full schedule ready at the end of May. Hopefully, you’ll be done with your playoffs by then because we’ll need to have a fitting. If not, then I may have to travel with you for a few days. I really don’t want to do that.”

“Hopefully, I won’t be done with my playoffs by then. Even you should know that a team wants to make it to the end of the season to win the championship, but it feels nice to know that you have no faith in me. I’m about to turn thirty and I still haven’t won the Cup. Who knows if I ever will, but I’m going to fight like hell for the chance and you are hoping that we’ll get out early? For a fucking campaign for clothes? I know you have something riding on this for your career, but I do have one of those as well and I would like to accomplish something other than good stats.” His face is a little red from the anger pulsing through him.

“Are you drinking? I was simply saying if. I’m sorry if it came across the wrong way. I hope you reach your goals. And just because you’re about to turn thirty doesn’t mean you have to quit being a hockey player. Does it?” I snap back at him. There’s no need for him to get pissed at me.