Closing The Gap (Dangerous Pasts, #1) (3 page)

“You haven’t mentioned it recently, but I’m well aware of your feelings on the subject.  Unfortunately, it’s a great building near work.  Now’s just not the time for a major move.  I’m going to call dad and see if he’s on his way.  I’ll touch base in a few days and give you an update on how it went.  Thanks for the support as always.  I appreciate it.  Send my love to Lisa and the boys.”

“Will do.  Good luck, Josh.  I’m sure it will turn out to be much better than you expect.  You might even have fun since you scored that private ice time at Jobing.  Charming the ladies has never been an issue for you no matter their age.  Let’s hope your date can still see and hear.” 

“I will definitely be hoping for the best. Thanks again.  Bye, Jason.”

After hitting the end button on his call with his brother, he asked Siri to dial his dad.

“Joshua, is that you?”  His dad sounded anxious.  He wasn’t an expert with the caller ID feature.  Chucks voice floated over Josh and he relaxed, comforted by the familiarity.

“It’s me, dad.  The plane just landed and I’m heading for the baggage claim.  I carried on so I don’t have to wait for any more luggage.  Which door should I head towards, where it’s easiest for you coming in to the airport?”

“It would work best for me to come in on the south side.  I’ll see you in a few minutes.  I called ahead to make sure your flight was on time and I’m in the car.  I’m looking forward to our time together son.” 

“Me too.”  He pushed the end button and slid the phone back in his pocket.

After a quick stop at the men’s room, Josh rode the escalator down towards the passenger pick up lane.  He kept his head lowered and avoided eye contact.  Arizona wasn’t a huge hockey state so luck stayed with him and none of the other passengers recognized him.  Too exhausted for chit chat and autographs, he just wanted his bed in his dad’s guest bedroom.  Spending time at his dad’s, enjoying the Arizona spring weather, would refresh him.

Josh received appreciative glances from attractive woman on his way through the airport but he wasn’t interested.  Even though he’d womanized back in his late twenties and early thirties, he didn’t have the energy for anymore shallow and vapid hook ups.  The women he met in the Chicago social circle always looked and acted fake.  He despaired of ever being married again and having the soul fulfilling love like his parents and brother.  Oh well, he juggled his bags in his hands as he searched for the exit door.  He faulted himself for most of it.

Blessed in his career and family, he’d resigned himself to bachelorhood.  He certainly never lacked for willing participants to date or sleep with him.  He chuckled as he fantasized about his future.  Maybe he’d find someone he wanted to love once he was old and running around the retirement community in his golf cart.  It sure as hell wasn’t Shelly or Lauren. 

L
ake gulped a breath of air through her diaphragm and exhaled it out her glossy lips.  She strategically considered avenues to bolt from her table in front of the temporary stage, draped in elegant plum colored silk.  She wondered if she were to summon a black hole would it swallow her whole?  If she wasn’t on the board of the charity, she could hide in the back and have more courage in anonymity.

The décor for the bachelor auction stunned the senses.  The planning team had really knocked it out of the park.  Deep plum, silver and crystal accent pieces decorated the patio of the host hotel.  The flowers delighted Lake’s eyes with their beauty and also lent a light and pleasing perfume to the crisp air of the May evening.  Strings of twinkling lights hung from the railings and a blanket of stars lit the sky as if someone had tossed a handful of large diamonds into the stratosphere.  The venue sparkled with the brilliance of sun dancing on fresh snow.  It looked magical and resembled a fairytale playground for adult women.  The high voltage ambiance crackled with insane energy and those women were ready to play.

“I rock the house.”  Lance Richmond slipped into his seat next to Lake at her table.  Lance served as Lake’s personal assistant and had earned a huge chunk of Lake’s heart.  Like a brother rather than an employee, Lance had helped Lake through her challenges and the move from Minnesota to Arizona.  Lake was grateful for the money she’d received from the insurance claim and subsequent law suit as it had allowed her the opportunity to start fresh in a new location.  That Lance and Summer had followed her provided an unexpected blessing.  He and Summer made her laugh.  That Lance was a magician with wardrobe, hair and make-up, did not hurt his cause.

“What I meant to say, boss, is that you look irresistible.”  He flashed her his perfect white teeth in a charming smile, a perfect accessory to his black evening wear.  He wore his dark blond hair slicked back with mousse and his hazel eyes danced with merriment.

Lake snapped out of her anxiety at the compliment.  “Thanks.  I may appear composed on the outside but I feel like I’m going to vomit.  Would it raise too many eyebrows if I skipped the auction and went home early?”  Lake wrapped one of her thick, blonde curls around her finger and twirled it, rubbing the hair along the scar.  She knew Lance would recognize it as her personal sign of emotional distress but she couldn’t help it.  She regretted ever sharing this ridiculous idea with Summer the day of the photo shoot.  Now her brave sister would never let her hear the end of it if she chickened out. 

Lance captured her hand and gently placed it back in her lap. 

“Do not wreck my masterpiece!”  Earlier in the day, Lance had round brushed and curled Lake’s long hair section by section for well over an hour, making sure it covered her scar.  Her long lashes were curled and her shadow done into a smoky eye that showcased their unique dark green color.  The eye make-up, along with her pale pink lips made her sage green evening gown really pop.  Lake avoided exposing her legs, embarrassed by the multitude of tiny scars etched into the skin of her calves, feet and ankles.  Clothes always covered up the worst one.  Because of it, she feared getting naked.  No man besides Lance had ever seen it. 

The designer gown was elegant, yet sexy.  Constructed of shimmering silk with diaphanous cap sleeves and a corset back, it showed off Lake’s curvaceous figure to its best advantage.  The material sparkled with thousands of tiny Swarovski crystals that adorned the bodice.  Lake looked spectacular.  Although, Lance mentioned it often, she didn’t believe him.  People might tell her she’d never looked more incredible than she did tonight but she just couldn’t internalize the compliments.  Her internal dialogue often ran amok, causing her feelings of claustrophobia.  She felt like she resembled a caged animal in a traveling sideshow, beautiful to the casual observer, but trapped inside herself.

“Lake, I am without words!”  Summer flounced towards her sister sporting a strapless, red mini that left little to the imagination.  Summer would be at the ready if she decided to dance the Paso Doble later on in the evening.  Her dress flowed like a red cape set to incite the alpha male bulls of Scottsdale.  So much for her sister advising Lake that she shouldn’t wear red.  Summer had the market cornered on that daring color.

“Sis, you’re a bombshell.  The slut won’t even know what hit him.”  Summer gave a wink and a toss of her wavy chestnut hair that brushed her shoulders.  She pursed the cherry red lips that matched her dress and blew Lake a kiss.

“To which slut are we referring?  There’s a plethora of them listed here.”  Lance picked up the program from his place setting and opened it, scanning its contents for clues.

“You mean she hasn’t told you about her latest hair brained idea?  She’s planning to bid on the date with The Trashman!”

“The trash man?  Does he own a disposal company?  Why am I not in the loop?”  Confusion danced across Lance’s face.

“He was a star defensemen for the Chicago Blackhawks and now he’s a broadcaster for their local network.  He earned that nickname for his potty mouth and bad attitude.” 

“Really?  Sounds like just my type.  Can he do anything else with his potty mouth besides antagonize the opposition?”  Lance peeked over the paper, his face dripping with feigned innocence.  He didn’t hide his sexuality and had been out since his late teens.  His overall flamboyance and flair for the dramatic provided comfort to Lake.  Lance lightened the mood during the times Lake found the darkness starting to close in on her, extinguishing her fragile confidence.

The conversation’s subject matter contributed to Lake’s frayed nerves.  Lance’s bold comments were causing improper mental flashes of Josh’s lush mouth kissing her on areas of her exposed skin.  The man had incredible lips.  Due to the rawness of the words, she tingled in places that were inappropriate for the venue but sang Hallelujah in silent exaltation that she still felt anything.  In spite of how she welcomed it, the sexual tension had surfaced at an inopportune moment so she tamped the emotions down, clamped her eyes shut and inhaled.  Where on earth had that come from, so fast and furious?  It must be the dimples when Josh smiled.  Lake found them hard to resist.

“Enough already, my discomfort is not a joke.  If you are both in front of me making fun of it all, how am I supposed to have the courage to follow through with this?  It already took smoke and mirrors to make me presentable tonight.  The only thing that kept Lance from breaking out the spackling compound was the fact that he didn’t have it in the make-up bag.  Please, I beg of both of you.  Let it rest for once!”

“Lake you look incredible tonight.  No smoke or mirrors were required.  Please, believe me.  If you want to go out on a date with The Garbage Collector, who are we to say you shouldn’t?”

“The Trashman!”  Summer interrupted with a giggle.

Lance’s gaze implored her to cool it. 

“In fact, I say to go for it.  It’s been too long since you had any fun of the male variety.  You’re not a virgin and you’re not a nun.  I can’t wait to see the man who’s finally captured your attention.  Is he huge, burly and hockey fabulous?”  Lance paused.  “I pray to God he still has all his teeth?” 

Lance perused the program further running his fingertip along the embossed silver parchment.

“I found him!  Bachelor number twelve of fifteen, Josh Adams.  His bio says he’s a color man for SportsNet Chicago and handles the Blackhawks games.  What’s a color man?”

Summer sat down in the chair next to Lance and leaned towards him.  “A color man is a sports commentator who assists the play-by-play announcer.  The color man and play-by-play guy will often exchange banter during down time or breaks in the action.  The color man also gives expert analysis and background information, such as statistics, strategy and humorous anecdotes.  That is what The Trashman is known for and why he’s adored by the Chicago fans.  Color men are often former athletes or coaches of the sport being broadcast, like in this case.
^”

“Interesting.  That doesn’t even sound like a job.  He’s a lucky man to retire and fall right in to something like that.  It also says here he’s a recent inductee, one of the youngest ever, into the hockey hall of fame for his years as a defensemen for Chicago.  It claims he is one of the best defensemen the NHL has ever seen.  Known for his strength and finesse on the ice, Josh Adams is a local hero and home town boy from Glen Ellyn, Illinois.  I wonder if he is known for his strength and finesse anywhere else?”  Lance winked at them and then continued.  “His proposed date is ice skating at the Jobing.com Arena, followed by dinner and drinks at the Capital Grille.”  Lance looked up from the program and caught Summer’s gaze.  “Isn’t Chuck Adams from Glen Ellyn?  Any relation to Josh?”

All the blood drained from Lake’s face and she started to tremble in her chair.  Lance reached out a strong hand to steady her.

“This guy must really be something judging by your reaction.”

Lake croaked out between lips dry as the Arizona desert.

“It’s not that. 
I can’t skate
!”

****

J
osh stood behind the curtain in his grey pinstripe suit and baby blue tie barely listening to the instructions from the event hostess.  Since he’d flown straight from Detroit into Phoenix, he hadn’t been able to grab his tux.  He didn’t want to be forced to make do with what he had brought with him on his road trip.  It put him at a disadvantage to the other guys who’d shown up dressed to the nines.  Never let it be said he didn’t dare to go rogue.

“Listen for the announcer to call out your name and number.  Then, step right through the split in the curtain and come out on the stage to the spot where you see the duct tape marking an ‘X’.  The marker will be right under the spotlight but don’t worry, you can stand or walk, whatever makes you comfortable.  Once the gavel falls, you can leave the stage and mingle.  After the auction, come back to me to retrieve the contact information for the special lady with the winning bid so you can make arrangements with her for your date.”

Josh had inspected the women in the audience on his way through the patio to the backstage area becoming more disheartened with each step.  He’d seen more bottled tans, bleach blonde hair and fake tits to last him a lifetime when he was out on the road.  He didn’t want to entertain groupies anymore and he certainly didn’t want to fuck them anymore.  At thirty-nine, he was getting too old for this shit.

The Chicago press still followed him around with their incessant judgment of every date he had and every move he made.  Being a local hero sometimes sucked.  He couldn’t even take a dump without it making front page news.  Wishing he could speak to his dad one last time for moral support, he realized that was impossible.  Chuck was out in the crowd sitting at Lake Harrison’s table.  Josh had not had a visual of the elusive Lake yet but he looked forward to seeing her from the stage.  He imagined his dad with a happy expression on his face as he sat with his arm around his new love.