Shutout (The Renegades Series Book 5) (23 page)

“You still love her, don’t you?”

He didn’t want to admit that to her. “She can be so stubborn sometimes. You know? Why does she have to do everything on her own? Why is the thought of my helping her so terrible?”

Alison sighed. “That’s a good question. Just like the club. You know she’s only working there until she gets enough start-up money for her gallery. I really hate that place. Hailee’s idea of start-up money is enough so she can survive for a year without worry, so who knows how long that will take. Have I mentioned how much I hate that place?” The repeat mention of the club drove home her point.

“So you aren’t behind her on the whole strip club idea either? Glad I’m not alone.”

“Nope, you aren’t alone on that. I helped her set up a website for her gallery, hoping she could sell a few paintings online in the meantime. You probably already know this, but her paintings are amazing. I want to do anything I can to help get her out of The Cat House.”

He closed his eyes and pictured the one that hung in his apartment. “They are. She’s very talented.”

“And all that talent is wasted dancing on a pole. Nothing against pole dancers. We did research and priced her paintings according to other comparable art. She already sold one, but one isn’t going to get her far. She needs to sell more than that. But Dom, you didn’t call me to talk about art.”

His head was spinning. “You know I could give her anything she wanted. I have the ability to do that. But her pride would never let her take it. I want to see her succeed. I want her to be happy, with or without me.”
Why can’t it be with me?

“You do still love her.”

There was nothing he could say to that. He did. He would always love her, but he needed someone who would love him back. He deserved that much.

“I could see it, the way you two acted that night at the rink. And then at the bar. I think everyone can see it but her.”

He was sure Hailee did see it. She was just too scared to lose herself by loving him.
What the fuck? She has me so sappy I sound like a damn chick
. He cleared his throat. “What’s this website called?”

“It’s Hailee Valentine dot com.”

“And you can buy her art right off here?”

“Yep.”

“So, if she somehow earned enough money to start up her gallery, she’d quit the club?” His heart thumped at the start of an idea. But he’d need some help.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Listen, since neither of us like her working there, do you think you might be able to help speed this process up?”

Absolutely
. “I have an idea.”

“I’m listening.”

Hailee

Hailee hadn’t been able to get Dominic out of her mind. Avoiding the Renegades games on television proved difficult. They were in the playoffs and the whole city was excited and talking about it. She found herself checking the internet for the score after the games. She had even shamelessly signed up for the Renegades app on her phone so she’d get scoring notifications, other important media announcements, and interviews.

But it didn’t stop there. She’d been pulling doubles at the club to keep herself occupied, but sitting here in front of the computer, she couldn’t help herself. With a container of rocky road ice cream, she searched Twitter for ‘Dominic Zanetti’ and looked for recent posts.

Why am I doing this to myself
? But even her subconscious couldn’t help her now. She was already scrolling, not sure what she had hoped to find. The first thing to catch her attention was a photo of him and some girl at a restaurant in town. The girl was a bleach blonde with huge breasts that weren’t very well covered. No doubt a bunny. The tweet said her name was Kandi. How perfect was that? Kandi was doing the duck-face and Dominic was looking over her shoulder.

Red hot emotion surged through her body, and a lump tightened in her chest. The room began to spin. The feeling wasn’t anything she could control, but she kept scrolling. There were a few more from this girl with Kaden and some other girl in the background, but Dominic wasn’t looking at the camera. Kandi never wrote where they were, but she tagged him in the photos.
I think I might be sick
. Nausea made her stomach churn.

Hot tears stung her eyes as she scrolled through the posts.
Look at these girls, they’re all so happy and eager. All he wanted was someone to love him like he deserved. He’s got bunnies that fawn all over him, and all I did was shut him out
. She didn’t want them to, but the photos hurt. But wondering if he took the girl home after that hurt even more. If he went home with any of these girls taking selfies.

Picking up her phone, she pulled up Alison’s number and hit the call button. As soon as her friend picked up, she quickly spoke. “Ali, please take the internet off me.”

“Are you stalking Dom online?”

“Why would you ask that?”
Am I that predictable
?

“Because I know you, Hailee. I know that you aren’t over him.”

“Even if that was true, by the look of these bunny pics it’s too little too late.”

“I really don’t think he’s moving on like he said he was.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling.” Alison quickly continued. “Let me ask you a question, since you seem to be pining over Dom.”

“I’m not pining.”
I’m totally pining. I’m pathetic
.

“Whatever. You’re online stalking him. So, seeing him with the other girls makes you jealous. It does, doesn’t it? Does that about cover it?”

Yes
. “I’m not answering that.

“Again, I don’t believe that he’s real thrilled about moving on.” Alison paused a moment before obviously changing the subject. “Oh by the way, I was looking on the website and you had a new inquiry.” Alison helped with the website even more now that Hailee spent her free time wallowing.

“Oh yeah? Which painting are they interested in?”

“It’s not a painting, Hailee. It’s
many
paintings.”

Her heart jumped at the sound of that, but a deep breath reeled her back in.
‘
Many still might not be enough to get the gallery up and running yet, but at least it would be a start. “Okay, so how many?”

“He didn’t say, but he wants to meet with you and discuss it.”

The probability of many paintings made her belly tingle with excitement.
This might be just what I need
. Calming herself, she cleared her throat and put on a business façade. “Okay, set something up.”

* * *

Hailee waited at the coffee shop for Mr. McKnight, the agent Alison spoke to. Her stomach flipped and flopped. Nerves were a terrible thing; a wave of nausea swept through her stomach. She looked again at her phone to see how late it was, positive that this was a prank, and that no Mr. McKnight was coming. But he wasn’t late. It was only ten to eleven, and their meeting was at eleven.

The dream she had last night kept nagging at her. Once she woke up from it, she couldn’t fall back asleep; she couldn’t shake it. Dominic was in it. He was his flirty and charming self. Things were just like they were when they’d been a young happy couple with no worries. She woke up happy but then reality brought her back down. She missed their love and being his best friend.

A yawn crept up on her. Glancing at her cup, she found the Iced Mocha was empty. She’d been up the rest of the night feeling bad about the photos of Dom and those girls. She tried to suck up the last remaining whipped cream at the bottom of her cup, but it was useless, the cup was drained.

She straightened out her blouse and business-style skirt, specially bought for this meeting, and pulled up social media on her phone. The first headline that hit her was that the Renegades had swept New York in four games, and they were moving on to round two. Excitement crept through her self-pity.

Avoiding all things Renegades was proving impossible. The whole city revolved around them now.
You’d think that I would be used to this, being from Ontario. When Toronto was in the playoffs, the city never slept. They ate, drank and breathed hockey
. She just didn’t expect that here.

She wanted to stop reading and get to business, but her customer wasn’t here yet. Skimming the article, she found out that Dominic started game one and two, and Kaden played game three and four. It was undecided who was starting the next round. She was glad that the torture she’d put Dominic through hadn’t messed with his game. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for herself.

Opening another Renegades article led to photos of the players. They were enjoying themselves in New York. The photos were from Twitter and appeared to be posted by fans. Times Square and the Empire State Building were the first two locations. Dominic and Kaden were in every photo, and in almost every image, there were girls hanging all over them. Everyone had big smiles or goofy grins.

Her stomach started to twist and her chest tightened. A few of the photos made her ill. The same two girls, who were who were very beautiful, appeared in every photo. Including at the Central Park Zoo and on what looked like a relaxing, if not romantic, gondola ride at Central Park Lake.
He really is moving on. This is proof.

Hailee closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Why did I look at this
? His arm was hooked around the brunette in some of those photos. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

“Miss Valentine?” a man asked, interrupting her downward spiral.

He stood towering over her. She cleared her throat and tried to blink the tears back to keep them from falling. Those stupid photos had made her forget all about her meeting. “Mr. McKnight?”

Wearing a designer suit, he carried a briefcase and had his cell phone in his hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Valentine.” He set down his case and held out his hand to her, then took a seat across the table.

She opened her laptop and pulled up her webpage. “All of the paintings that I have for sale are listed on here.” She turned the laptop towards him. “You’re welcome to look through them. Just let me know which one your client is interested in.”

Mr. McKnight looked from her to the laptop screen. He clicked through each painting, checking his notes with each one. “Miss Valentine, would you mind terribly if I called my client to consult with him?”

“No, not at all. I’ll go get a refill on my coffee while you do that.” Hailee felt odd sitting there while he talked to the mystery client. Even after getting another Iced Mocha, she stood at the counter and watched him. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d forgotten to eat this morning. Her favorite pastry called to her from the bakery case and her stomach rumbled again. “Excuse me, can I get a cheese Danish, please?”
I have no willpower
. Hunger won out.

McKnight was clicking through each painting. She could hear him describing them each over the phone.
This is silly, me standing here, lingering. He didn’t ask for privacy
. While nibbling on her Danish, she made her way back to the table and sat down.

He nodded at her with a small smile and continued to describe the paintings. “Uh-huh, I see. Are you sure? Okay. So that’ll be… yes, I know you can add. Sorry. But will your— Yes, I know, but the accountant… Right, you’re absolutely right, a worthwhile investment. I’ll talk to you later today.”

Worry filled her stomach; the coffee and Danish weren’t sitting too well now.
Maybe my asking price is too high. Or maybe they aren’t what he wanted. I was silly to get so excited
. “It’s okay if you don’t—”

Mr. McKnight put his hand up midsentence, stopping her. “My client, he’ll take all of them.”

Hailee shook her head.
Apparently I didn’t hear him correctly
. “I’m sorry, what?” The paintings she chose to put on her online gallery were in the range of one thousand to fifteen hundred dollars each. Alison helped her have them valued before she priced them to avoid gouging anyone; she was told that two thousand each would be a fair price, but to her that sounded absurd.

“He wants to purchase all of them. Is that possible?” Mr. McKnight seemed to turn green as he said the words.

“Um, yes. Absolutely.” She quickly tried to add up the total in her head. Twenty paintings were currently online. “Let me write you an invoice.” She rummaged through her purse before finding her book of invoices.

“My client sees you are asking roughly one thousand dollars per painting.”

“Yes, well. I had them valued. And I understand if he feels that’s too much…” She tripped over her words. Fear curdled inside her at the thought of losing this sale. She’d charge whatever he wanted at this point, if he in fact still wanted all of them. “I could—”

“That’s the thing, Miss Valentine. My client has looked them all over, and had his accountant look into the value of each.” He paused and pulled out his checkbook. “You’ve undervalued your own work, my dear. My client would like to give you two thousand for each, which he considers to be a more fair price.” He wrote out a check, ripped it out of the book and handed it to her.

“What?”
He wants to give me more than I’m asking for my paintings?
She looked down at the check, written out to her for forty thousand dollars.
Forty thousand!

“Is that satisfactory?” Mr. McKnight asked.

Hailee took a moment to find her voice, and took a deep breath to calm her trembling insides. The last half hour had been such a roller coaster of emotions for her. A lump formed in her throat as a photo of Dominic and that girl came to mind. Pushing those feelings aside, she chose to be happy for the minute. This is what she’d been waiting for. “Yes. That’s wonderful. I just need an address I can have them all delivered to.” That check would allow her to pay for the first year’s lease on her space. She had worked her ass off to save enough for the down payment, but that was irrelevant now. With forty thousand, she could quit the club and devote all of her time to painting, advertise her gallery in the proper publications, and get her name out there.

This is really happening
.

“About that,” he started. “My client asked for me to arrange to have them picked up. If you can just have them packed and ready to ship, I’ll send for them. You just tell me when and where. Here’s my card. Email me the details.” Looking at his watch, he rose and shook her hand. “Miss Valentine, it was a pleasure doing business with you. I need to get going, but there is one more thing before I do.”

“Sure.”

“My client would like to commit to a per painting order. Um,” he shook his head. “I don’t think I’m saying it right. He’d like to commission you for twelve more pieces, to start.”

“Twelve more?” She was already going to be working extra hard to replace the ones he just bought, and now he wanted twelve more?

“Of course the timeline for completion will be negotiated. He’s estimating at least two thousand a painting.”

Her heart raced. This was more money than she expected to make as an artist, especially when she’d been bringing in zero these last few years. “Is he looking for a specific topic? Or where will he be displaying these?”

Mr. McKnight looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Let’s just say he’s a fan of ice hockey, and works with various charities for children. He’ll be donating some to them. So anything ice hockey, such as professional in arenas, little leagues, children playing outdoor pick-up games. Anything similar to your current work. He was drawn to the hockey aspect, the bright colors and the cheerful feelings they gave off.”

She scribbled all of these things down on her tablet. She could do this; that was her thing.

McKnight glanced at his watch again. “I really do need to go. All my information is on my card; please don’t hesitate to contact me.” He gathered up his papers.