Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Bailey is crying now, loud tears tracking down her cheeks as she sobs dramatically. “Aaron, we were going to tell you—”
I shake my head. “No. You weren’t.”
She chokes down more tears, mascara streaking down her face. “You don’t understand—you’ve been busy, you’re always gone! I felt invisible and—”
“Stop,” I tell her coldly. “You don’t get to turn this into something tragic. You cheated with my best friend.”
I am emotionless.
“Well.” I clasp my hands, eyes locking on Declan. “Hope she was worth our friendship, you backstabbing piece of shit.”
He isn’t my brother anymore.
“You wanted to fuck me over?” I step back out the door, lowering my voice, holding his gaze. “Congratulations. I will not forget this.”
ONE
JULIETTE
I have a big girl job.
A shiny, grown-up, brag about it job.
On Monday I will officially be the Player Engagement Coordinator for the Michigan Ice Wolves, which sounds so very polished and important and comes with a title. But more than that? This job is meaningful.
It means mental health resources, community outreach, charity partnerships, family support, education programs. I get to give back on a large scale—with the funding and reach of a massive organization that can affect real change.
Better yet?
My brother plays for the team, which makes it more personal. Plus, I’ll get to see him more often.
Declan is always traveling. Always busy.
Skating, lifting, exercising. Playing, practicing. Spending time with his teammates. Which means I rarely get to spend time with him. Sure, we text—but that’s not being present.
Hockey has always been a part of our family’s DNA; as soon as Declan could walk, our parents had him on skates. As soon as he was old enough to join a club, he was trying out. He’s been chasing a championship as long as I can remember.
Hockey isn’t just his job or his hobby.
It’s his identity.
This job puts me in his world—not only as his sister, watching from the family section, but as someone who understands the structure, the pressure he’s under, the weight of it all.
I’ll be in the building, and I’ll get to see him more often, and now we’ll have more in common!
Not to mention, the charitable aspect of it.
Giving back to the community. To children.
To families in need.
I cannot wait to make a difference in people’s lives.
The thought sends a thrill down my spine, and I’m here to raise a glass and toast to my cubicle and benefits and expense account and a company laptop and—
“Earth to Juliette. Wherefore art thou, Juliette?” A male voice cuts into my musings, interrupting my thoughts, and I glance up at Preston Bradly, the man I’ve been seeing for a month.
Tall.
Polished.
Effortlessly confident in a way that feels oddly forced, but I give him a pass for it. The loafers he wears without socks? Debatable. Collared, button-down shirts.
Great hair.
Smells expensive.
We matched on a dating app, exchanged tons of texts, and managed to meet in person three times before tonight and, apparently, he’s going to quote Shakespeare because my name is Juliette.
As if I haven’t heard it quoted to me before, dozens of times…
I smile, sensing that this is going to be one of those nights. “You know that line isn’t about location, right? Wherefore art thou actually means ‘why.’ Not ‘where are you?’”
He gives me a blank stare.
I clear my throat as the server appears with two glasses, one with wine, one with bourbon, Preston having ordered for us while I was in the bathroom.
“So,” he says, raising his glass, taking a sip, then leaning back in his chair. “Tell me about this new gig.”
I brighten at the subject. “It’s with my brother’s hockey team, on the operations side. I’ll be helping with player coordination, community events, in-person appearances. Charities and—”
He cuts me off with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, but like, what do you actually do?”
I blink at him, confused. “That is what I do.”
“No, I mean—” He gestures vaguely. “The players are the real stars of the show. And you’re not making real decisions, right? You have a boss who has a boss who has a boss.”
What is he doing right now?
I pluck at the napkin beneath my glass as Preston continues.
“Nepotism and all that, working for your brother.” Preston sighs. “My uncle is a VP at my firm, so I’m in no position to judge.”
“I do not work for my brother—and I got the job on my own.”
He winks. “Your last name is Kennedy, babe. They knew who you were.”
I set my barely touched glass down, pit forming in my stomach and growing roots.
“I’m sorry, are you insulting me on purpose? To make yourself a bigger person?” I ask, voice calm despite the coiling in my chest.
His eyes widen in shock. “What? No! I’m being honest.”
I cannot believe the nerve of this asshole!
I mean, yes, his texts may have given me some indication he was a bit of a douchebag, but he hasn’t outright said anything offensive to my face, up until now. Not to me, not to servers, not to bartenders.