The Right Fit

Chapter 18

Ignoring the knot that tightened in his heart, Antony slipped out of his suit, taking care to hang it up. He put on boxers and a t-shirt and stood in front of the patio doors. The view of the Air Canada Centre was always best at night—all lit up like some spectacular circus show. There was nothing like the buzz of having the street filled with thousands of fans all in blue and white during the playoffs.

Will we make it to the playoffs? Will I still be part of the team?

Coach Foster had singled him out again in the locker room. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” he advised in his gruff voice.

Luca had given him a similar lecture, but this time he’d asked for specifics. Antony wondered if he was beginning to feel his position on the team was threatened. But Luca was a draft pick from two years ago, and he proved himself every season. Luca just signed another three-year contract. He had no worries.

But Antony did.

His gaze left the Air Canada Centre and focused on the glass. His reflection blinked back at him. A drop to the minors meant a drop in salary—a huge drop.

Where can Antony Laurent go from here?

Marc’s medical bills, the private physio, the caregiver expenses, the taxi service—everything for Marc cost money. Their parents had invested every cent into hockey for Marc, he was their sure bet for the pros.

Antony closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the cool glass. It should be me in that wheelchair. Marc was the better hockey player by far, he would never have had to worry about being dropped to the minors. He would have been able to give Antony a secure future…if the roles were reversed.

But Antony knew he could never take back his decision the night of the accident.

****

“The left side,” Crosby said, holding the handheld mirror. “Definitely. What do you think, Rose?”

“Same thing I said a half hour ago; whatever you think.” Rose sat on the couch, reading Maxine’s latest Cosmopolitan magazine.

“I hate when you’re like this.” Crosby put down the mirror and turned in her chair. “Why did you even bother coming?”

“Because I’m your driver.” She reached out and twirled a green grape off the cluster laying on the wet paper towel on the trunk coffee table. Then Rose noticed the paperback with the curled edges. “Waiting for Fate?” she read with a snort. “Since when do you read romance novels?”

“Maxie?” Crosby tilted up her chin. “You’re the tie-breaking vote.”

“I’m honored.” Maxine had spent her whole morning trying new eye shadows on her little sister. “Yes, the left,” she said. “That’s the one.” And to further drive her point, she started putting away her makeup samples and handed Crosby a box of tissues and bottle of face cleaner.

“Hmm.” Crosby consulted the mirror again. “It’s more frosted than the right eye color combination, but maybe it will make me stand out from all the girls trying to contour their faces like Kim Kardashian. Miles said if I stand out I have a better chance of making it to the next round.” Then she added with a grin, “He also likes my tattoos, he called them ‘worldly original’. The fact I designed them impressed him even more. I wonder if I should get my nose pierced. Just a small diamond stud—”

Rose crunched her grapes from behind the paperback. “You’re putting the women’s movement back by forty years.”

Crosby smoothed cleanser over her face. “I’m a woman, and I’m doing exactly what I want to do. How is that affecting the rest of the female population?”

The book got tossed on the table. Rose pushed up her glasses. “You’re contributing to the perpetual fairy tale that men are a prize to be won and once you’ve got one, you’ll get your happy ever after.”

“Pfft. I’m in it to gain notoriety so Maxie and I can start up our business.” She wiped off her eye shadow and balled up the tissue. She gave Maxine a beaming smile. “I came up with twenty new nail polish names last night! How about you? Anything sexy or funny?”

Zipping up the eyeshadows in her compartmentalized bag, Maxine dropped her gaze. “Sexy or funny?” There was a flash of Antony’s smile, then the look on his face when he leaned in and kissed the sauce off her lips. The familiar pulse began to radiate from her heart to the tips of her ears. She concentrated on cleaning off her table. “How about, hot n’ spicy?”

Crosby let out her signature squeal. “That’s perfect. No, wait! Let’s have a whole hot n’ spicy line. Like, Jalapeno Kisses or maybe Let’s Taco Bout Us.”

Maxine shared a look with Rose, the one they exchanged while Crosby’s vivid imagination constructed grandiose plans, plans that never solidified. Maxine was only humoring her sister with the nail polish idea. It was something she’d used to keep her mind occupied when she and Johnny first split.

At that time, most of Maxine’s contributions were a bit more subdued than Crosby was intending. Names like; Broken Heart, Bleed Me Dry, Salty Tears—It was a graveyard of hopeless images.

“Hot n’ spicy,” Crosby replied. “I like it. Good job, Maxie!”

“Yeah.” Rose’s gaze slipped past Maxine’s shoulder and settled on the impressive bouquet on the kitchen counter. “It’s like you’re inspired.”

“I had a burrito yesterday,” she said, trying to hide the quiver in her voice. Maxine moved into her little kitchen, the scent from the flowers had filled her whole apartment. Every time she walked by, she let her fingers smooth over the surface of the delicate petals. Then she’d close her eyes and could almost feel Antony’s fingers; unclasping her bra, memorizing her back, teasing her breasts, and then finally slipping down between her legs. He’d barely touched her when they were forced to stop.

Still, he made her feel desirable. He made her want to be desired. The good-bye kiss in his car had lasted five full minutes. It was becoming impossible to leave him.

“…a client from the spa?” Rose stood up and studied Maxine as she washed her hands at the sink.

Maxine sniffed. “Yes. A few other girls got them too. She’s leaving on a trip for several months.”

Crosby whistled. “The lady must be rich. Where is she going?”

“Some place warm probably,” Maxine said. Snow flurries blew outside the window. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and glanced at her phone, lying on the counter by a half-empty pot of macaroni and cheese.

“Speaking of warm, Mom wants you to call her at Aunt Margo’s condo. She’s staying with her for the next few weeks. Her place had to be fumigated for bed bugs or something.” Crosby picked up the wooden spoon sticking out of the pot and began to eat the dregs of their lunch.

Rose put a hand to her stomach. “I brought yogurt.

Why do you insist on eating that crap?”

“Because it’s the only thing Maxie keeps in her kitchen.”

Maxine took her phone and checked for messages for the millionth time. All last night she’d kept the phone by her bed, just in case Antony texted. She was adamant about letting him call her first. It was based solely on principal. Plus, he was her rebound fling, she was making sure to keep her emotions in check, keeping her heart guarded.

But doubt had crept in this morning when he still hadn’t contacted her. Maybe she was supposed to call him? Is that how rebounds work? It’s not like they had a date. They met. They ate. They almost had sex…in a public park.

What is happening to me? It was Maxine’s turn to put a hand on her stomach.

“See?” Rose said, motioning to Maxine. “That stuff kills the healthy bacteria in your bowel. You guys should have eaten the quinoa salad I brought.”

Crosby loaded up the wooden spoon and shoved the whole mass into her mouth. “Mom said she and Aunt Margo found a nice golf pro at the club for you to marry.”

“Me or Maxie?”

“Does it matter?” Crosby said while chewing. “Do you think it will be like that for us? I hope so. We’ll be these flirty widows hanging out in retirement condos in Florida looking for mates for our kids.” She laughed and nudged Maxine. Then her expression jolted with embarrassment. “Sorry, Maxie. I didn’t mean…”

Maxine had to think for a moment before she realized Crosby meant Johnny.

“You’re so much better off without him,” Rose said, putting her hand on Maxine’s shoulder. A stoic mannerism that was as much a part of Rose as her black rimmed glasses. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Maxine said absentmindedly, putting the phone back on the counter.

“You deserve a guy who treats you like a queen,” Crosby added.

Rose squeezed Maxine’s shoulder. That was over the top emotion for Rose. “Absolutely,” she said, backing up her twin.

It was on the tip of Maxine’s tongue to tell them about Antony. Then she imagined their reactions. There was no subtle way to tell them she was having amazing make-out encounters with a hot French/Greek mechanic…was there?