Page 44 of Rush

“Someday you’ll understand, Luca. And when that day comes, I can’t wait to make you eat your words,” I tell him while following him back into the room.

For the next few hours, I shake hands with every man and woman, approved by Romeo, who will be at the race tomorrow and either betting on me or against me. I’ve never liked this part of the gig, but Romeo assures me it's necessary. To some, I’m just a pretty face who likes adrenaline and they bet against me. To others, they can see the darkness living underneath my skin. They easily find that look in my dead expression that says I’m willing to do anything to win and bet on me. The only highlight of the night was the unexpected arrival of one of the PWHL’s board of directors. He and I had a great conversation, and if things go my way, I may be closer to helping Sam cross off another dream on her list. When it's finally three in the morning, Luca has had enough, and with more than one woman’s number shoved in his suit pants, he searches out Romeo, who gives me a chin lift with his approval that we can leave. He’ll take it from here, ensuring that tomorrow, either way, we walk away as richer men.

My phone vibrates loudly on the night table where I laid it to charge once we got back to Luca’s. With my eyes still half-closed, I reach for it, then bolt upright in bed when I see Sam’s name on the screen.

“Sammy,” I answer, my voice sounds scratchy. “Are you okay?” Not that I’m not happy to hear from her, but one look at my alarm clock lets me know it's noon here, which means it's nine in the morning at home. Our calls usually don’t happen early in the morning.

“Were you sleeping?” she asks with a slight laugh. I can picture her smiling on the other end.

“Yeah, sorry. I just woke up,” I tell her, collapsing back onto the pillows and scrubbing a hand over my face.

“Don’t apologize, I’m sorry to wake you. I was just going to leave you a message,” Sam answers, and this time I can hear the slight hesitation in her voice.

“What’s wrong, Pretty Girl. I can hear your worry through the phone.”

She laughs, but it's followed by a deep sigh. “I don’t want to worry you. I was just calling to let you know that we aren’t going to my aunt’s. Dylan was up in the middle of the night with a slight fever. She still has it this morning, but it's manageable. She’s just tired and not very hungry, so we’re having a day vegging on the couch.”

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. For the millionth time I wish I was there with my girls and not out here.

“Jameson,” Sam calls my name lightly over the phone and the tone of her voice soothes me somewhat. “I promise she is fine. It’s probably a virus. Kids get them all the time.”

“I remember from last winter,” I say, my chest heaving. My poor little girl. I remember her big brown eyes looking at me all glassy and the fact that she wouldn’t let go of my hand. She was the worst patient and Sam and I had to creatively find ways to get her to take any medicine.

“Then you know it will be over in a day or two. And next year we’ll likely go through the same thing. She’s a kid. They get sick,” Sam assures me, trying her best to make me feel better that I’m not there. “I just wanted to let you know. And also because she wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I want to talk to her,” I answer immediately. The phone rustles and then I hear Dylan’s little voice.

“Daddy!”

My eyes slam closed at her excitement to talk to me, but I can also hear the hoarseness in her voice. “Morning little Pretty Girl. Mommy said you aren’t feeling too good.”

“I hot. I doesn't feel good.”

I can picture her little face scrunching as she says it. I also hear Sam in the background asking Dylan what she did.

“Took medicine and Mommy let me watch Rapunzel.”

“Rapunzel. You lucky girl. Do you get to veg on the couch today?” I ask her. There's a beat of silence and Sam says something to Dylan.

“Yes. I stay home with Mommy.”

My lips twitch with a smile. I miss Dylan. I’ve never been good with having to stay away from her. “You get some rest today with Mommy. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“I see you tomorrow?”

Her question about breaks my heart and I’m seconds away from saying fuck the race and just getting on a plane to go home. “Yes, Dyl. I’ll be home tomorrow. Get some rest, little baby.”

“O’tay,” she answers and there’s another rustling noise.

“Kane, do not stress about her being sick. I promise she will be just fine. She just wanted to talk to her daddy, which is why I called you,” Sam explains, even though it does nothing to lift my mood.

“You can call me anytime, Sam. I like hearing from you. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you to see your aunt and sister this weekend. I know you were looking forward to it.”

She's quiet for a minute and I can picture her processing my words. I really hope she’s smiling. “It will be okay. I’m sure we’ll reschedule for a different weekend. So, you’ll be home tomorrow?”

I grin. “Yeah, Pretty Girl, I’ll be home tomorrow. As soon as my plane lands I’m coming to find you.”

“I can pick you up from the airport,” she replies and there's no mistaking the hitch in her voice.