Free True Love and Other Disasters by Rachel Gibson Page A

from the dressing room and through the lounge. The bottoms of the rubber soles slappedhis heels as he moved down the hallway to the elevator. He hoped it was important. He had to hop on a flight in the morning and head to Vancouver for Game Five. The Chinooks were ahead 3–1 in the series, but that could easily change, and he needed the ice time with his teammates.
    Before he hit the UP button for the elevator, the doors slid open and the Widow Duffy stood inside. A pair of sunglasses covered her eyes and her full lips were painted red. Ty placed his hand on one side to keep the door open for her. “Hello, Mrs. Duffy.”
    “Hello.” She had a raincoat thrown over one arm, and she wore some ugly beige sweater set and pearls, like she was an over-fifty socialite on her way to some “save the starving orphans” meeting. Despite her sedate clothes, she was hot as hell and overblown sexy.
    She stood there looking at him through the beige lenses and he was forced to ask, “Is this your floor?”
    “Actually, I’m on my way up.” She pushed the glasses to the top of her windblown hair. “I’m a little distracted and accidentally hit the wrong button.”
    Ty stepped inside and the door closed behind him. He hit the Number Two button and the elevator started to move. “Have a liquid lunch?”
    She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes and clamped her mouth closed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said through pursed lips.
    He shoved a shoulder into the mirrored wall and clarified. “I’m talking about you smelling boozy.”
    Her big green eyes widened and she opened her bag to dig around inside. “I’ve had a very rough day.” She pulled out a piece of cinnamon gum. “Very rough.”
    She owned a hockey team worth close to 200 million. How rough could it be? “Break a nail?” He half expected her to check her red fingernails before she stuck the gum in her mouth.
    “My life is more complicated than worrying about a broken nail.” She chewed, then added, “Very complicated, and now that Virgil is gone, everything has changed. I don’t know what to do.”
    He wondered if she was one of those women who liked to talk about their problems with strangers. Lord, he hoped not, and raised his gaze to the ceiling, purposely breaking eye contact so she wouldn’t feel free to unburden herself.
    Thankfully, the elevator opened and Ty followed Faith down the hall to the conference room. He stepped ahead of her and opened the door.
    She looked up into his eyes as she passed, closeenough that her purse brushed the front of his sweatshirt. “Thank you,” she said, smelling like cinnamon and flowers.
    “You’re welcome.” His gaze slid down her back to her behind, covered in a pair of dull beige pants, and he had to admit that the woman’s body did amazing things to her boring clothes. Stepping inside the room, he came to a sudden halt. He put his hand on his hip and stared at the billboard mock-ups propped up on easels about the space.
    “Hello, everyone,” Faith said, all cheery as she hung her coat over a chair and took a seat beside her assistant at the conference table.
    In contrast to Mrs. Duffy’s cheerfulness, Ty asked, “What the hell is this? A joke?”
    A woman named Bo something or other from the public relations department shook her head. “No. We need to capitalize on the coverage we’ve received and all the media attention we’ve been getting.” She pointed to a drawing of two people standing back to back with the caption “Can Beauty Tame the Savage Beast?” “The media seems to think there’s a problem between the two of you, and we want to use that to our advantage.”
    The PR director, Tim Cummins, added, “Of course we know that there is no real problem.”
    But there was a problem. A big one. Ty took a seat across from Faith and folded his arms across his chest. He and the boys had worked their assesoff the last four game nights and all the press had been able