Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” I managed. “We’re nearly at our goal for the night, and we’re not even to the scrimmage yet.”
He beamed, like a proud husband who’d never done anything worse than leave socks on the floor. “That’s my wife,” he said, winking at Maven and Grace as he tucked me under one arm. “Tell me again how I got so lucky?”
“We’ve been asking ourselves the same since you two showed up in Tampa,” Maven teased.
Grace snorted. “She’s being nice. You married up, Black. Don’t forget it.”
Nathan laughed good-naturedly. “I know when I’m out of my league.”
He gave my waist a squeeze, not a hard one, but one that was soft and affectionate.
It was just enough pressure to make me feel crazy for having been afraid of him at all.
“Channel 8 is ready when you are,” our PR manager called from across the lobby, waving us over.
“Go shine,” Maven whispered, bumping my hip.
“Knock ’em dead,” Grace added.
Nathan steered me with him toward the camera setup, his hand warm at the small of my back. “Having fun so far?”
I let out a nervous breath as we approached the camera crew. “I am. Everything has come together perfectly.”
“It really has.” He paused, pulling me to a stop to check my hair and dress with an affectionate smile. “Have you seen Coach McCabe yet?”
His eyes stayed on my dress where he busied himself with smoothing the fabric that didn’t need to be fixed.
I swallowed. “No, not yet, actually.”
Nathan hummed, nodding. “Good. I think maybe it’s best you stay away from him.”
My heart lurched into my throat. “Oh?” I asked carefully. “Something going on?”
At that, Nathan smirked, the first bit of evil leaking through his perfect exterior in days. His eyes skirted to mine. “I don’t know, Ariana. Is there something going on?”
The pulse thrumming in my ears muted everything, and I didn’t know what to do but stare back at him and feign naivety.
“Mrs. Black?” a soft voice interrupted, and then the assistant with the news crew ushered me over to the camera. “You’re up.”
The lights were bright, the reporter poised with her mic and perfect smile. I was still trying to regain my composure after the unexpected warning from Nathan.
“We’re here at the first annual Sweet Dreams Skate for Change,” the reporter said once the camera was rolling, “and joining me now is the woman behind it all, Ariana Black.”
I swallowed my nerves and smiled into the camera. I could do this. I knew my talking points better than I knew my own reflection. With a deep breath and winning smile, I zeroed in.
I talked about bed insecurity, about kids sleeping on couches or floors or in cars. I talked about how a good night’s sleep changes everything. I talked about Sweet Dreams and the shelter and the team’s support. The reporter nodded in all the right places, eyes bright.
“And it looks like the organization has really wrapped around this effort,” she said. “GM Nathan Black is here tonight as well—”
“Let’s get him in!” the PR manager chimed in, already waving Nathan forward.
My husband slipped into frame beside me, arm curling around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“Yes, please,” the reporter said, delighted. “Nathan, how proud are you of your wife right now?”
“Ridiculously,” he answered without hesitation, looking at me like I’d hung the moon. “She has poured her heart into this. She’s always been passionate about community work, and to see her build Sweet Dreams here in Tampa, to see the impact it’s already having on these kids… I mean, look at her.” He turned back to the camera. “She’s the brains and the heart behind tonight. I just sign the checks and try to keep up.”
My heart squeezed so tightly in my chest I couldn’t help my visceral reaction — tears glazed my eyes.
Did he mean that?
The reporter laughed. “That is so sweet. You seem like a great team.”
“We are,” Nathan agreed, squeezing my shoulder. “On and off the ice.”
The words cradled me like a newborn, comforting and warm. If I were someone else watching this on TV, I would believe it. I’d see a devoted husband bragging about his accomplished wife. I’d think they were perfect.
For a second, I believed it, too.
Maybe that dinner party was just a bad night. Maybe I was making too much of it. Nathan was here, right by my side — saying all the right things, doing all the right things.
I didn’t realize I’d fallen quiet until the reporter wrapped up.
“Thank you both so much,” she said. “We can’t wait to see how much Skate for Change raises tonight.”
“Thank you,” I replied, forcing my voice through the tightness in my throat.
The camera light cut off. The reporter complimented us again, talking about how good it would look on the ten o’clock segment. Nathan thanked her, shook her hand, and draped his arm around me as we stepped away.