The following morning, I make my way to John’s office as soon as I hang up with Jeremy. Who will no longer be my agent as of midnight.

John’s secretary waves me past after giving me a flirty smile.

“Could I speak to you for a moment, John?” I ask as I pass through the doorway. He looks up from the binder he’s reading.

“Dawson! Of course! I’ve always got time for my star player.”

I try not to grimace. He is going to change his tone very quickly, I’m guessing.

“I wanted to let you know personally, sir. I’m leaving the league.”

The jovial smile falls off John’s face immediately. “What?”

“I’ve enjoyed my time as a Shark immensely. I promise I never had any intention of leaving the organization before my contract ended. However, my personal circumstances have changed.”

John forms words silently, but no sound emerges.

“My agent will be putting out a statement tomorrow. In the meantime, please keep this between us. Any old friends of yours will hear soon enough.”

John’s mouth tightens, and I receive confirmation of where Lionel Vanderbilt received his information.

I stride out of his office and head for the airport.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

VIVIENNE

I can’t quite place the expression on my mother’s face. She looks…apprehensive? Uncertain?

“Vivienne, you need to go out to the front foyer,” she tells me again.

“What is it?” I grumble, irritated. I wave to the papers spread across the table. “Joan and I were just about to get started on the seating arrangement, and you know how long that will take. If we start now, we’ll be lucky to have it done by dinner. And I’ve got to approve the bouquet now or else—”

“Vivienne, you need to go out there. Now.”

I heave a sigh and stand. “Is there some sort of problem?” I ask, walking toward the doorway. “Because I seriously cannot handle—” I swing the door open and freeze.

Jace is standing in the middle of the front foyer next to the center table that always holds a fresh floral arrangement, no matter the time of year. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets as he studies one of the paintings on the wall. He looks over, and his eyes meet my stunned gaze. The random assortment of butlers, maids, and agents currently in the foyer glance between us uncertainly.

I don’t say anything, and neither does he. My mind can’t process his presence. Is he here to apologize? Yell at me again? Did something bad happen? I’m angry at him. But happiness is the emotion that hits me first. And I’m mad about that, too.

Jace shifts his weight and pulls his hands out of their pockets. “Can I talk to you?” he asks quietly. “Outside, maybe?”

I don’t move or speak, and he shuffles again.

“What are you doing here, Jace?” I finally ask.

“I came to talk to you.”