Chapter 97: Finale, the draft day
“New York bound.”
The plane touched down at JFK, and my chest went tight. Beck's hand was wrapped around mine, his palm sweaty. “You okay?”
“I'm not the one about to get drafted.”
“You're the one who has to watch.”
I squeezed his fingers. “You've got this.”
“We've got this.”
The hotel was sleek, all glass and chrome. Beck's agent had booked a suite overlooking the city. I stood by the window, watching taxis crawl below.
Beck came up behind me, his hands settling on my hips. “Nervous?”
“Terrified.”
“Same.”
He turned me around, his dark eyes searching my face. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I want you to know—”
“Don't.” I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Don't say goodbye.”
“I'm not saying goodbye.” He kissed my forehead. “I'm saying thank you.”
The doorbell rang. His agent, a sharp woman named Karen, swept in with armloads of suits. “We need to get you fitted. The cameras will be everywhere.”
“Cameras?”
“ESPN, NHL Network, social media. You're a top prospect, Beckett. Everyone wants a piece of you.”
Beck looked at me. “She comes with me.”
Karen raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. “Fine. But she stays in the green room during the broadcast.”
“I'm not leaving his side.”
“You will during the draft.” Karen handed me a lanyard. “This gets you into the family section. You'll have a clear view of the stage.”
I took it. The plastic was cold against my palm.
The green room was chaos. Agents, family members, other prospects. Beck stood by the window, staring at nothing.
I walked over. “You're going to be fine.”
“What if I'm not?”
“Then you come back next year.”
“I don't want next year.”
“I know.”
A guy approached. Tall, blonde, cocky smile. “Harrington. Heard you might go ahead of me.”
Beck's jaw tightened. “Heard the same.”
“We'll see.” The guy looked at me. “You're the girlfriend. The writer.”
“Ivy.”
“Right.” He didn't offer his hand. “Good luck tonight. You'll need it.”
He walked away. Beck's hands curled into fists.
“Ignore him.”
“I'm trying.”
“Try harder.”
The draft started at 7 PM. The arena was packed, the lights blinding. I sat in the family section, sandwiched between Beck's mom and Leo. Leo held a drawing of Beck lifting a trophy.
“He's going to win,” Leo said.
“Yes, he is.”
The first pick was announced. Not Beck. The second. Not Beck. The third. Not Beck.
Beck's mom squeezed my hand. “He's dropping.”
“He's not dropping. They're just taking their time.”
The fourth pick was called. Beck's name echoed through the arena.
The crowd erupted.
I was on my feet, screaming. Leo was jumping. Beck's mom was crying.
Beck walked to the stage, shook hands, pulled on a jersey. He looked up at the family section and tapped his chest.
I tapped mine back.
After the draft, we found each other in the chaos. He lifted me off the ground, spun me around.
“You did it.”
“We did it.”
He kissed me. Not soft. His lips were urgent, electric, tasting like champagne and victory.
A camera flash blinded us. Vanessa stood at the edge of the crowd, phone raised.
“Congratulations, Beckett. The world is watching.”
She smiled, then disappeared into the crowd.
Beck pulled me closer. “Ignore her.”
“I'm trying.”
“Try harder.”
We walked toward the exit. Security parted the crowd.
Outside, a black sedan waited at the curb. The window rolled down.
Margaret's face. Pale, thin, dying.
“Get in.”
“No.”
“I'm not asking.” She coughed. “Vanessa isn't done. She's going to leak something tonight. Something that will destroy everything.”
“What?”
“Your mother's confession. The one she recorded before she went to prison.” Margaret's eyes were wet. “She named names. Including mine. Including yours.”
My blood went cold. “I didn't do anything.”
“She says you helped her hide the money. That you knew about the network.”
“That's a lie.”
“It doesn't matter. The media will eat it up.”
Beck stepped forward. “We're not going anywhere with you.”
“Then you'll lose everything. The draft, the contracts, the future.” Margaret leaned back. “I can make it go away. But you have to come with me.”
The sedan's door opened.
I looked at Beck.
He looked at me.
The crowd behind us was still cheering.
But the world was about to change.