"That's pretty rude."
"Yes and no. His shareholders and his business associates depend on his acts of genius to stay ahead of the competition. So he can't always be tugged in a dozen directions. My job is to keep the rest of the world at bay when he needs me to. But there are days when I feel like a lion tamer, fighting off his distractions with a chair and a whip."
"Mm." Her knee brushed his under the table, so he relocated his feet in order to increase their contact. Not in a sleazy way-he just wanted to touch her. "So . . ." He didn't quite know how to word his next question. "I need to break our taboo topic for a second, because I'm curious. Are you going to keep working for him if you have a baby?"
"Of course," she said quickly. "I have to work. And Nate has onsite childcare. There are only a handful of companies in the city that offer it. I won't be able to travel, though. But someone else on my team can take over that part of my job."
"Your team?"
"There are four of us running the C-suite."
"And you're the boss lady?"
"Of course." She gave him a sudden smile. "Can't believe you even had to ask."
He laughed. "Sorry. I thought maybe world domination took a little longer than two years." Lauren was a dynamo, though. He should have known.
"World domination does take longer. I've only asserted control of one Fortune 500 company."
"The place would grind to a halt without you, I'll bet."
"Not immediately, because I've trained my underlings well." She set down her fork. "Nate has been chatting me up about taking a new job, though. We haven't gotten to the part where he lays out the specifics."
"That could be good, right?" He drained the last drops of his wine, which he'd ordered from the restaurant's by-the-glass menu, because Lauren wasn't drinking.
"We'll see."
She looked a little shifty-eyed, like she didn't want to talk about it. So he changed the subject. "How do you feel about our chances against Detroit tomorrow? They had a great season, but they seem to be choking. What do you think of their defense?"
"Until this week, I haven't been paying attention to Detroit," she said, and her expression was sheepish.
"Really? Nate must have you traveling all over hell if you don't have this year's stats memorized."
She shrugged. "I haven't followed hockey. Not since . . ." She cleared her throat. "Two years ago."
"At all?" Somehow this was more shocking to Mike than any of Lauren's other revelations this month.
She shook her head. "It reminded me too much of my old life, and watching would have been like staying in the past."
A silence settled over them. For a moment they just took each other in. He hoped she was happy to be here with him tonight. There was still a lot of sadness he needed to push past. He could do it, though. He wasn't going to give up.
Lauren broke their staring contest first. "Actually, I watch golf now." She folded her napkin.
"Golf?"
Her brow furrowed, and she gave a serious nod. "I like it for its gamesmanship, and its tension. I mean, the aggression, right? And you never know what's going to happen with those golf carts. It gets hairy out there."
"Yeah?" Seriously?
She tossed the napkin on the table. "You are so fucking gullible."
A bark of laughter escaped his chest. "Jesus, Lo."
She smiled at him and shook her head. And he kept laughing. He was dabbing his eyes before he finally stopped. "I was trying to picture it."
"I know." She stretched her fork across to stab a scrap of prosciutto off his plate.
He watched her mouth as she chewed, and wished he could just tuck her under his arm, carry her back to his lonely bed and hold her all night long. It wasn't going to happen, though. Not tonight. He wasn't quite ready to have that talk with Elsa yet. The Lauren-will-be-around-a-lot-more-often talk.
Better to ease her into it. He signaled for the check.
In an effort to prolong Lauren's visit, if only for a few minutes, they walked over to the Promenade and looked out at the river. The Staten Island ferry chugged toward lower Manhattan in the distance, and tulips were blooming in thick beds beside the walkway.
He took Lauren's hand, and they walked among all the other couples, as if the events of this evening were the most ordinary thing in the world.
They weren't, but maybe they could be.
"I'd better head back," Lauren said eventually. She tightened her trench coat against the breeze off the river.
"I'll call you a car."
She shook her head with a smile. "Just walk me to the subway. It's the fastest way to Midtown."
Grudgingly, he did.
"Thank you for dinner," she said when they were only a block from the subway entrance.
"Any time," he said, squeezing her hand. "I mean that literally. When the play-offs are over, we can spend more time together."
"That would be nice," she said, which wasn't exactly a promise.
He tugged her in for a kiss that lingered as long as he dared. "I wish you were still traveling with the team."
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then changed her mind. She cocked her head, studying him.
"What?"
Lauren shook her head. "Call me when you can."
"I will, honey. Of course."
She stood on tiptoe and pecked him on the cheekbone. Then he had to let her disappear into the station alone.
Five minutes later he walked into his house to find Hans on the sofa, and clean shirts in their dry cleaner's plastic hanging from the stairway bannister.
"Hey-thanks for this." He pointed at the hangers. "I couldn't remember if I asked you to grab them."
"You did not, but I just guessed you had to pack tonight so I stopped in and asked them if they had anything for you."
"You're the best." Mike stopped to listen to the violin music rolling down the staircase. It was some fast-paced tune he couldn't identify. And it sounded angry. "Uh, is that an original composition?"
"Ja," Hans said. "She's been playing it for a while."
"What's her damage? Math homework?"
Hans nodded. "Math. And also something about you and dinner."
Crap. "Did she eat dinner?"
"Ja. Some."
"I'll go say hello." He climbed the stairs, and the music got louder and louder. He waited in her doorway while Elsa built the tune to a frenzy and then finished it with one loud, lingering bellow across her D string. "Hi," he said when the last reverberations died away.
She didn't reply. She just wiped rosin off her instrument with a cloth, then loosened the pin in her bow.
"What's shakin'?" he tried.
"Now you want to hang out?" She slammed the case shut.
"Something wrong with now?"
Elsa looked up, her face red. "You'll be with Lauren in Detroit, right? But tonight was your only night to be with me."
Oh boy. "You know what? I was home for hours today. You were on your phone for a lot of it." But, fuck. The day's itinerary wasn't the point. "You have friends. I'm not allowed?"
"Friends," she spat, her eyes flashing. "Mom's been in the ground a whole year now. Guess it's time for you to go running back to your slutty girlfriend."
"Elsa!" he barked, his blood pressure skyrocketing.
"What?" she snapped, the challenge on her face clear.
"I can't believe . . . No-I'm ashamed to hear you talk like that," he roared. "And what's more? If your mother heard you say that, she'd be ashamed, too!"
Later he'd wonder why he had to go and do that. But at the mention of her mother, Elsa's bravado crumbled. She turned her face away as if she'd been slapped. Then her eyes welled up. "Get OUT of my room!" she screamed.
Now there was a great idea.
He turned and bounded down the stairs to the living room. Before he got there, her bedroom door slammed with such force that he heard one of her pictures fall off the wall, too. And when his feet brought him into the living room again, poor Hans was still sitting there, looking uncomfortable.
He'd lost his cool and actually shamed his daughter. And in front of an audience. "Shit."
Beacon took a deep breath. Instead of bolting upstairs to his own room to regroup, he threw himself down on the other end of the couch from Hans, putting his feet on the coffee table. Then he tipped his head back and sighed.
She's a grieving child, he reminded himself. It's too much for her to process. If things worked out between him and Lauren, there'd be a hell of a lot more to process, though. What would Elsa say if he and Lauren were having a baby?