Quick Trick (Rough Riders Hockey 1)

Faith caught sight of an empty one-per

son table in the corner, then sidestepped toward the bar and waved at Kelly.

“Hey, girl,” Kelly said. “What’s up?”

“Is it okay if I take the one-top in the corner for about an hour? I needed to get out of the store.”

Someone yelled for service at the other end of the bar, and Kelly shot the man a glare that would have taken him off at the knees if he weren’t already plastered.

When Kelly turned back to Faith, she said, “As long as you don’t do that”—she tipped her head toward the offender—“you can have the table all night.”

“Thanks.” Faith pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and laid it on the bar. “Give me whatever drink has the most alcohol and cover it with enough sugar that I won’t even know it’s there.”

Kelly pulled a glass from a shelf, set it on a rubber mat, and started mixing the drink. “That kind of day for you too, huh?”

“I need to find complete and total detachment. Fast.”

“This will do it.” Kelly lifted the finished drink, saluting Faith. “Here’s to a quick end to Christmas Eve.”

Faith pushed the twenty forward, sad that a day she’d always loved now caused her so much pain. Even sadder that she’d thought she’d found someone special to share it with only to be heartbroken.

She wove through the crowd, claimed her table, and did her best to lose herself in the combination of luscious alcohol and these strange new online business opportunities.

The alcohol shaved off an edge of stress, the crowd helped her shake the loneliness, and the ideas Grant had sketched out based on Taylor’s experience were, well, pretty amazing. Simple, yet powerful. And he’d tiered the startup, adding in ways Faith could learn how to produce the most effective videos, write the most interesting blogs, find the best sponsorships, set up the most profitable affiliate links…

“Shit,” she murmured, looking over his smooth, slanted male handwriting. “This is so…doable.”

Turning to Taylor’s pages, Faith looked at the different numbers again to see where her friend’s profits came from. Compared that to Grant’s plan. And, hell, even if Faith consistently made ten percent of what Taylor did, it would help make ends meet. Thirty percent and she’d be secure, with the extra cash she needed to expand the business in ways that would bring in more sales, more contracts, more customers. Fifty percent and she’d be floating. She’d already made a couple thousand dollars in affiliate income on her single Christmas Fantasia Light Show video.

Excitement sparked hope. Hope lifted her mood. Maybe she’d get out from under this black cloud after all.

At least financially. Personally…that was another story.

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Between the time the male voice touched her ears and the time she looked into the man’s eyes, Faith realized it was Grant. Her stomach fluttered into her throat, but a protective barrier closed around her heart.

“What…?” They’d been broadcasting the Christmas tree lighting live from DC just a few hours ago. He should be at some party with all those famous people she’d seen in the crowd. Or at his place doing Bridgette. Faith glanced over him. “Is that…a tux?”

“Yeah. Long story. Can we talk? Maybe back at the store where it’s quiet?”

Her gut clenched around a tug of war between her heart and her gut. Stand up for yourself, Faith. No one else will do it for you.

“No. I came here to get away from the store.”

He sighed, looked around. “Okay.”

He disappeared into the crowd, giving Faith time to breathe. Time to process his sudden return. She hadn’t known whether he would be coming back to town or not. And she’d made peace with their good-bye.

But now her guts were churning again. Her heart aching again. She couldn’t do this. She shouldn’t have to do this.

And the fact was…she didn’t have to do this.

Faith pushed all her papers into a pile and grabbed the laptop. But before she could stand, he was back with a chair. He dropped it opposite her booth seat and gently pulled her things from her arms, setting them on the table.

“I’m in the middle of something here.” Hold on to the anger. Hold on to the anger. If she didn’t, she’d cave. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, superstar.”

He laughed. It was a tired, you-are-so-freaking-adorable laugh. “Man, I missed you.” He leaned forward and took her hands. “That had to be the longest thirty-six hours of my ever-loving life.”