Dirty Score (Rough Riders Hockey 3)

“Sure,” Rafe was saying, pulling Mia back to the conversation too late to understand what they were talking about. “My schedule can get pretty hectic during the season. But we come out here to play several different teams, and I could just stay an extra day or two depending on my games.”

“Great,” Jax said. “It’s always good to have experts of every kind we can call on for a quick lesson. The movie industry is crazy, and we never know what we’ll get asked to do next.”

“You’re forgetting I know how to skate,” Troy told Jax.

“You call that sliding around the ice on your ass skating?” Jax shot back. “I remember it was a good thing that guy teaching you was in the off-season, because you needed a lot more than a few lessons. You sucked.”

“I got the hang of it eventually.” He turned heavy-lidded eyes on the woman sitting in his lap and tapped a gentle kiss to her lips. “And I didn’t suck when I was out on the ice with you.”

“No,” she admitted, scraping her fingers along his neck. “You were definitely two hundred percent Prince Charming when you asked me to marry you. I won’t ever forget that performance.”

Performance. That was enough to seal the woman’s identity for Mia. Hadn’t everyone told her Los Angeles glittered with stars? It really wasn’t all that different from New York, except in New York, Mia often saw “stars” like Robert Downey Jr. riding the subway or Katie Holmes grabbing Starbucks.

Troy tilted his head and kissed his smiling fiancée.

And from across the table, his buddy Wes treated him to a little payback with, “Get a roooooooo—” only to be cut off by a kiss from his girlfriend, Rubi.

And once again, laughter filled the air.

Mia laughed too. Rafe gave her a squeeze and murmured at her ear, “I think you’ll be really happy here.”

On impulse, she turned her head and kissed him. Just a press of lips against lips—their first public kiss. The act held more power than she realized. It pumped a thrill through her veins. She felt stronger. More powerful.

And when she pulled away, she looked him directly in the eye and said, “I just wish it was closer to you.”

When Aaron finished up with the producer, he and Mia drifted away from Rafe for longer conversations with several key people in costume. Over the course of the next two hours, she got a better idea of the industry, how television episodes were taped, and the impact of that schedule on costume.

She also clearly recognized how completely her world would revolve around this job. Not a clock, not sleep, not meals, certainly not friendships, relationships, or relaxation. Cynthia had, in essence, said the same thing. And Mia had lived the life in several different jobs. But something about the stoic intensity with which Aaron delivered that news now sat on Mia’s shoulders like lead, exhausting her before she’d even begun working.

Standing near the bar, she accepted her third glass of wine from the bartender and refocused on Aaron, who’d been explaining the company’s benefits package. She scanned the patio and found Rafe with yet another group of people, engaged in yet another conversation. He’d definitely gotten the better end of this deal tonight. Had been meeting and enjoying almost everyone here.

His gaze drifted through the crowd and halted on her. He seemed to assess her in seconds. Until now, she’d smiled, he’d smiled, and the night went on. Now, he tipped his head toward the exit. Oh yes. Thank God. Mia inclined her head.

Rafe spoke to the group, shook a few hands, and started her way.

“I know this may sound overwhelming at first,” Aaron was saying, “but we have a lot of fun at work, and we don’t put you on salary, so you’re compensated for every hour you work with overtime. Holidays are double-time. And there are all kinds of unexpected bonuses that vary season to season depending on the actors and directors and producers. They’re always throwing special parties and doling out great quarterly and yearly bonus checks.”

All great perks. If Mia wasn’t so seasoned, she’d see those for the glittery carrots they were meant to be. But she’d learned about two jobs back that no amount of money or parties or gifts could replace freedom or serenity or pea

ce or love.

But she told Aaron, “That sounds fantastic.”

“Excuse me.” Rafe stopped next to Mia and offered Aaron a smile. “I hate to break in, but I should get back. Early practice tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Mia told Rafe.

While Rafe ordered an Uber driver, Mia gushed over Aaron’s hospitality and his time. Told him how excited she was to start the job. Then she found Cynthia, gave her a hug, and promised to call her in the morning so they could meet to see the apartment and get a tour around town.

When they finally stepped outside the ivy-covered wall and back into reality, an SUV was waiting. They climbed in, and Rafe told the driver where to go. Then he collected Mia in his arms, pulled her close, and murmured, “Put your head down and close your eyes, baby. I know you need to decompress from all that.”

Mia exhaled. Tears welled in her eyes. With no outlet, she did as he suggested, and with her cheek on his shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around her, his warmth and scent grounding her, the turbulence that party had whipped up inside her calmed for a moment. She couldn’t voice her fears. Couldn’t lament about wishing she could go back and change her mind over this job. She was afraid Rafe would validate her fears, and it was too late now.

Way too late.

14

“Maybe tomorrow,” Rafe told Mia, “we can rent a car and drive along the coast. Stop in those little towns you love and walk around. Shop at the little stores. Pick up some new things for your apartment.” Remembering her budget, he added, “It’ll be my housewarming gift.”