FOR THE WIN

Arya

“How did he propose?”

Taylor smiles at me. “He was such a clown. He brought home a ring size chart and asked me what size ring I wear.”

“Subtle.” I grin.

“Right? That’s exactly what I said! ‘So subtle, JP.’ I was actually excited, but maybe a teensy bit disappointed that he didn’t even try to surprise me. And then he said, ‘Okay never mind, try this one.’ And he went down on one knee with a ring in his hand.”

“Oh.” I lay my hand on my heart. “He already had the ring!” My romantic heart melts.

“Yeah, he was just faking me out.” Taylor shakes her head.

“It’s a beautiful ring.”

“Thanks.” She extends her hand to admire it. It’s very simple, a diamond solitaire in a shiny white gold band. “I love it.”

We’re at Taylor and JP’s engagement party, hosted by JP’s parents, Matthew and Aline. The entire Wynn family is here—minus Jackson, who I have yet to meet—and Harrison has been sweating about this for days. He’s told me about some of the things that have happened when this family gets together.

It should be okay now, though, because they’ve worked out their differences. I think.

What do I know? I’m not family and I’m new to their world.

I don’t feel totally on the outside, though, since I’ve gotten to be friends with Everly and Taylor and Lacey. They’re fantastic women and I love them.

I also love Harrison.

I love that he doesn’t stray far from my side at the party, and even when he’s across the room talking to someone else, he searches me out, as if making sure I’m okay, and we share a smile.

Taylor and I join in the conversation with Harrison, Théo, and JP. They’re talking about how Harrison’s mom is the family savior.

Bob Wynn turned ownership of the team over to Chelsea. She’s apparently been working with Kate, the CFO, and with the bank, and they’ve figured out a plan to repay Matt and Mark’s trust fund. This has been in the works for a long time, which makes some of the family feel crappy that they were suspicious of Chelsea and her motives, when all along she’s been trying to fix things. She’d kept it hidden because she didn’t want people to know about Bob’s illness.

I kind of love Chelsea too. She’s beautiful and blond and dresses in killer clothes and shoes, and I get why some might think she’s Bob’s trophy wife, but she’s smart and kind and strong. She’s raised an amazing man in Harrison, so she must be a good person.

“People always think team owners are wealthy,” JP says. “But lots of clubs report losses every year, and even the teams that are profitable supposedly don’t make that much.”

“Well,” Théo says. “Nobody buys a team planning to lose money.”

We all smile.

“True enough,” Harrison says.

“The truth is,” Théo continues, “hockey-related revenue is defined to maximize the appearance of losses on the hockey side. In some cases, like television broadcasts, we can deduct up to a hundred percent of revenues as a direct cost. And other forms of revenue aren’t even included.”

“And a huge chunk of income is based on TV deals,” JP says.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be telling us your tax evasion secrets,” Harrison says.

Théo laughs “It’s not tax evasion. It’s all legit. It also helped that we had a good year this year. Increased gate revenue, merchandise, and concession sales.”

“Yeah, thank God.” Harrison rubs his chin.

“We also doubled our local TV rights deal to twenty-five million.”

“That’s fantastic,” JP says.

“All because we were winning and made it two rounds into the playoffs,” Théo adds.

“Thanks to you, man,” Harrison says.

I watch him talk to his nephew, who’s actually his boss. The respect between them is obvious.

“Not just me,” Théo says. “The players are the ones who win the games.”

“You picked the players.”

Théo grins. “It’s a team sport. We all have our roles to play.”

That’s a hockey player for you—unwilling to take all the credit for success. Sharing it with the team.

“Too bad it wasn’t more than two playoff rounds.” Théo elbows his brother, JP.

JP grins. “Sorry, man. All’s fair in love and hockey.”

The Eagles beat the Condors in the second round and moved on. They lost in the next round, though, so the Stanley Cup isn’t back in California. Yet.

Théo snorts. “Yeah, yeah.”

It could have caused another family feud, I suppose, but this is a hockey family and sportsmanship is in their blood. Also, the fact that the patriarch of the family is dying may have given them all a new perspective on what matters.

I glance over at Bob Wynn, seated in a chair, talking to his sons Mark and Matthew.

“You didn’t have to buy a goddamn rival team to get back at me,” he bellows.

Uh-oh. Maybe I was wrong to think the feud is over.

But Matthew just laughs, his shoulders relaxed. “Maybe I wanted to own a team, Dad. Maybe I hoped that someday you’d include me in running the Condors.”

Bob stares at his son.

“Instead you stole from us and cut us out.”

Now Bob looks really confused. He doesn’t even know what he did. And we’re not sure that he ever did. Chelsea doesn’t even know. Not repaying those loans could have been deliberate, or it could have been something he lost track of.

And I’m pretty sure Mark and Matthew feel a lot of guilt about how they dealt with it.

Matthew sets a hand on his dad’s shoulder and squeezes. “It’s all good, Dad.”

Whew.

Harrison was right. Going through some tough times has helped this family figure out who they are and what they really want. There’s been some guilt and some remorse and forgiveness.

Everly pauses next to her half-brother Matthew and briefly leans her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she says quietly to him. He smiles at her.

She then moves over to join us. “Well, at least they’re not coming to blows over it anymore. Dad still has some hard feelings, but doesn’t remember his own role in the whole mess.”

“It’s fine,” Harrison says. “Everyone understands.”

“So, Théo,” Everly says. “Are you going to hire Arya again next year?”

My eyes pop open wide, staring at Everly. This isn’t the time for this! My cheeks heat as I flash Théo an apologetic smile. “You don’t have to answer that. It’s your business.”

Everly laughs. “I’m just bugging him.”

“Thanks for passing on Arya’s info,” Théo says. “I heard great things about the yoga classes.”

I turn to Everly. “You . . . ?”

She shrugs. “I gave Théo your card. I knew they were talking about yoga classes.” She holds up a hand. “That was all I did.”

“Oh my God.” I close my eyes, my cheeks even hotter.

“Don’t think you didn’t deserve that job,” Everly adds. I open my eyes and meet hers, which are warm and admiring. “You’re a great instructor. And perfect for the team because of your athletic style.”

“I agree.” Harrison’s arm around my waist squeezes.

I sigh. “Well. Thank you. And I’d definitely love to continue next season.”

I’m not sure where I’m going with my yoga career. I enjoy running my own small business with my SUP classes, but it’s definitely work. I don’t love the accounting and administrative stuff that goes along with it. I’m enjoying my weekly rooftop classes, and I still love Prana and the people there. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed working with the team.

Sometimes I feel I should have a bigger goal. But Harrison and I talked about goals and how to achieve them, and he didn’t make me feel bad that I don’t have a goal like he does. In fact, he made me feel better because he reminded me how far I’ve come since the attack and what I’ve accomplished. He reminded me about my tattoo . . . the journey isn’t a clear, straight path. And I’ve learned that finding joy in the journey is what life is about.

There’s a commotion at the front door of Matthew and Aline’s home as more people arrive. Everyone is shooting questioning glances at each other as Aline hurries to the door.

“Oh my God! Jackson!”

“What?” Riley pops up out of her chair where she’s talking to Ash. “Jackson?”

She darts across the spacious living room as her brother appears in the opening from the entrance hall—another Wynn, taller than all of them, broader than all of them, with the same blue eyes and dark hair. He’s wearing a huge grin.

“Surprise!” he says.

Riley throws herself at her brother in a big hug. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re here!”

Mark approaches his son with an equally big grin. “Holy shit! What are you doing here, son?”

Jackson shrugs, and I take note of the difference in his cool greeting to his father compared to the warm hug he gave his sister. “Thought I’d surprise you all by showing up a little sooner than I planned. Uh . . .” He glances over his shoulder, turns, and nudges a woman forward. “Hey everyone, this is Molly.”

The room goes silent, staring at the pretty strawberry blonde. She lifts a hand. “Hi, Wynn family. Nice to meet you all.”