Overtime

Mid-September

“‘The latest Cobra off-ice controversy. An insider’s look—for once boardrooms rather than bedrooms.’” Ford Delgado sucked his teeth, shutting off his phone and stuffing it into his pocket as he slouched back in the passenger seat of his older sister’s SUV. Another article about a disaster with the Dartmouth Cobras to stress over?

How about no.

He sighed as his younger sister, Silver, found a spot to park in the underground lot of the condominium, trying to figure out where her head was at. “You know better than to read this shit.”

Flicking her long, pale blonde hair over her shoulder, Silver effortlessly slid the big SUV into the small tight space. As she cut the engine, she glanced in the back seat at their older sister, Oriana, who unstrapped her son from his car seat. Biting her bottom lip, Silver looked like she wanted to voice her objections. Again.

Instead, she turned to Ford, her green eyes cold. “If the big words are too hard for you, I can have Amia explain it with some crayons.”

“Right after she teaches you some manners?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my manners, you condescending—”

“If you two don’t mind, I’m going up to see our father. And introduce him to his grandson.” Oriana walked past the passenger’s side, her high, light brown ponytail swinging, baby strapped in the carrier against her chest, and massive diaper bag slung over her shoulder. She gave them a long-suffering look before starting toward the elevator. “And if you kill one another before I get back, please don’t leave a mess.”

Cursing under his breath, Ford bolted from the SUV, sprinting across the quiet parking lot to take the diaper bag.

Silver got there at the exact same time.

They both held the strap as Oriana turned to glare at them in a way that always made Ford feel like a chastised toddler. Maybe he deserved it this time, but Silver was infuriating. Intentionally so.

Besides, fighting with her was much more entertaining than what they’d be dealing with in a few minutes. He gave the strap another tug the second Oriana started to turn. Their nephew, James Weston Callahan Perron—more commonly known as Westy—gazed up at them from his snug spot on his mother’s chest, casually blowing bubbles as Silver fumed. The baby cuteness seemed to calm her down. She smiled at her nephew, then rolled her eyes at Ford, mouthing ‘Jerk.’

“I’m sorry.” Silver shoved the bag at Ford, then folded her arms over her breasts. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t think Westy should be here either. Why are you doing this to yourself, Oriana?”

Lifting her hand to let Westy hold her finger, Oriana shook her head, then held her free arm out to pull Silver in for a hug. “No matter what he’s done, he’s our father. And who knows how much longer he’ll be around? He’s been calling for weeks. He’s even been to therapy. He’s serious about changing for the better. And he wants to see us.”

“I don’t trust him.” Silver stroked Westy’s cheek with a finger, then pressed her eyes shut. “That’s why I didn’t bring Amia.”

“There’s always next time. Maybe he’ll change your mind.” Oriana continued toward the elevator, stopping Ford before he could step on behind Silver. “And for God’s sakes, Ford. Be nice to Silver.”

Clearing the doors a second before they closed, Ford stared at his older sister. “Me? How is this my fault?”

“Would it have hurt to read the article?”

“Another article speculating stupid trades that will never happen?” Ford jaw hardened as Silver muttered under her breath. Something about him being a child. An improvement from her usual insults, at least. “Yeah, sorry, not wasting my time.”

Oriana shook her head, inhaling very, very slowly as the elevator rose, the glass walls showing the perfect view of the Halifax Harbor, glowing in the early morning light. Her eyes were distant, not seeing any of it. “This article’s about a move that could happen. I’m sure Dad will bring up the possible relocation, so we have to be prepared.”

“I don’t think he cares much about individual players.” Ford frowned as Oriana and Silver exchanged a look. “What am I missing?”

“Not players, Ford.” Oriana swallowed hard. “The team.”

His heart surged up to his throat as he pulled out his phone, but they’d already reached the penthouse. He couldn’t read the article now. He should have when Silver had sent it last night. Or before Oriana had picked him up this morning. Or even on the way here, when Silver had reminded him.

But he’d refused to believe a reporter could discover anything he didn’t already know. He was just as invested in the team as his sisters. More involved lately since they both had kids who took up a lot of their time. A step he was nowhere near ready to take, so he did his part to make sure they were free to spend time with their growing families. Between Silver and Oriana, their family only controlled about a third of the shares after he’d sold his majority to the current owner, Lorenzo Keane, but they all sat on the board and both he and Silver held management positions.

If there was any risk of the team being moved, wouldn’t he have heard about it already? Silver might have read something and overreacted, but Oriana wouldn’t. The information had been serious enough to worry her.

What had he missed?

You’d know if you’d read the fucking article, dumb ass.

Grinding his teeth, Ford stashed his phone in the pocket of his suit jacket, jerking the smooth black material straight before following his sisters into the penthouse condo.

Anthony Delgado had once owned a mansion, along with many other properties, but between poor management of the team and his own finances, their father had been forced to sell almost everything. He’d been close to claiming bankruptcy at one point, but his new wife, who’d once been his secretary, had managed to bring him back from ruin and helped rebuild to modest wealth with some shrewd investments. Ford didn’t know much about the woman—his stepmother? Shit, that was weird to think when ‘Dad’ had only been in his life for a few years—but Silver absolutely hated the woman.

Which didn’t say much, Silver hated a lot of people. Including him, once.

Now she loved him like only a little sister could. In the most irritating way possible. Not that he was completely innocent, but he wouldn’t just put up with her taking jabs at him whenever she was in a mood. Which she had been since Oriana had come to get them.

He wasn’t loving this little family trip himself.

At least they were too old for hair pulling and pinching—which they’ve probably done if they’d grown up together, rather than him being raised by the man he’d once thought was his father, Roy Kingsley.

A shame, because that would have been fun. Growing up together. Not pinching her. Getting under her skin by not taking her shit like almost everyone else did was satisfying enough.

Except when it led to him walking blind into a situation like this one. He didn’t want to see his father any more than Silver did. They were here because the man had somehow convinced Oriana to give him another chance to be involved in her life. Even after he’d hurt her again and again. Even though the man was a toxic asshole who treated his kids like amenities. Even though they’d all gotten to a better place as a family without Anthony Delgado’s manipulation.

Ford’d had one father almost destroy his life.

He refused to give that power to another.

But Oriana needs me.

The elevator opened to a long entryway with marble walls and floor to ceiling windows that gave a breathtaking view of the Atlantic. He took a moment to look out, letting the expanse of the ocean calm him as Silver stepped up to his side. Oriana stopped halfway to the door, shooting him a bracing smile.

Silver squeezed his arm. “Hey, it’s gonna be all right. No one fucks with us when we’re together. Not even him.”

Letting out a rough laugh, Ford slid his arm around her slender shoulders. “Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“Well…” Silver’s eyes sparkled, her lips slanting in a playful smile. “I was probably expecting a bit much. Never asked if you actually can read.”

“Bite me!”

“Don’t.” Oriana’s tone was firm, but she seemed to struggle not to laugh as Silver snapped her teeth at Ford. She faced the door as the lock clicked, head held high, shoulders stiff as it opened. “Hello, Father.”

Ford stepped up behind her with Silver, rubbing Silver’s arm as she tensed. Anthony Delgado looked about ten years younger than the last time Ford had seen him. A massive heart attack had changed him from a dangerously powerful man into an unstable cruel one. Ford had once tried to use that instability to his advantage to please Kingsley. Things had changed a lot since then. Ford had changed.

Oriana had welcomed him into the family, forgiving him for all the fucked up shit he’d done. That she’d consider forgiving their father wasn’t that surprising.

Maybe Ford should give the man a chance.

Thick white hair neatly styled, dressed in a charcoal suit, broad shoulders squared, the only indication that Anthony had ever been incapacitated was the cane he barely seemed to lean on anymore. He gave Oriana a hesitant smile as she approached him.

She smiled back, cupping the back of her son’s head as Anthony drew her in for a gentle hug. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you. And I’m pleased you agreed to come see me.” Anthony looked over at Silver and Ford. “All of you. Please, come in.”

Trailing Silver, Ford pulled the door closed behind him, hardly breathing as he listened to his father asking Oriana about the baby, showing actual interest. Once Anthony was seated in a white leather, wingback chair in the sitting room, he let Oriana place Westy in his arm, speaking softly to the baby as Oriana stood by his side, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“He’s beautiful, Oriana.” Anthony stroked his grandson’s cheek with a finger. His brow furrowed slightly. “Are you certain his birthmother won’t… She won’t try to take him back, will she?”

“No. She wasn’t ready to raise a child, she’s trying to build a life for herself and wanted him to have a family who could give him the love and support she never had.” Oriana reached down, smoothing her hand over her son’s dirty blond tuft of hair. “And we will.”