My Husband's Entire Hockey Team Knew About His Mistress novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Surprise
Lena walks into the Wolves' hotel bar to surprise her husband and finds the whole team knew about his mistress.
At eight o'clock on Saturday night, Lena Sadler stood in a hotel lobby and read her husband's text for the third time.
The gala is done. I'm still at the bar with the guys. I got the offer, babe. It's real.
Under it, a second message had come in.
Wish you were here to celebrate with me. I love you so much, babe.
She smiled at her phone.
Six years of minor-league buses and rented rooms. Six years of her paying the agent so her husband could keep chasing this.
She had given up her own pro contract for it, and tonight it had finally paid.
She had driven two hours in her good dress to surprise him.
She had not told him she was coming.
"You must be Lena."
A woman in a cream blazer had stopped beside her, holding a leather folder with a wolf's head stamped on the front.
"Fan relations for the team. I've seen your photo on his phone about a hundred times."
She said it warmly, and she hugged Lena before Lena could offer a hand.
"I walked his offer up to him myself this afternoon," Amber said. "I wanted to see his face. You must be so proud."
"I am," Lena said. "Thank you for believing in him."
"Oh, he did all the work. The bar's on the second floor. Go celebrate."
Amber held the elevator door for her.
On the second floor the bar was loud and gold-lit and full of tall men in suits.
Lena knew them all from the photos on Stanton's wall. The Ironport Wolves, in one room.
She stepped in through the doorway, and the noise stopped.
The whole team turned their heads.
A defenseman put his glass down. A goalie looked at the floor.
Nobody smiled at her.
Nobody said, congratulations on the big night, Mrs. Telford.
She looked for Stanton at the tables and at the bar and found no one with his sandy hair.
"Looking for Telford?"
Beck Rylander stood in the hallway outside the bar with his arms folded.
He was the Wolves' captain, six foot three, with a nose that had been broken twice.
He had been trying to end Stanton's career since junior hockey.
"Not now, Beck," Lena said.
"I heard he got the offer." He said it slowly. "Honestly, I didn't see it coming. Telford isn't that good."
Lena stopped walking.
"Excuse me?"
"He's a third-line winger on a good day. I've watched him for ten years."
"You jealous little man," she said, and her voice shook. "He didn't get that offer by luck."
"No?"
"He earned it. He gets up at five. He has never missed a workout. I stood beside him for every one."
"I know you did," Beck said.
Something in his voice made her stop.
It wasn't mocking, and she didn't understand it.
"Say it, then," Lena said. "Admit you're just sick that he finally beat you."
Beck looked at her for a long moment.
Then he looked down the hallway toward the elevators.
"Fourteen twelve," he said. "Go knock."
"What?"
"Your husband isn't at the bar, Mrs. Telford. He hasn't been at the bar all night."
"His text said he was."
"I know what his text said."
She wanted to slap him.
She wanted to go back downstairs and drive home and never think about what his face looked like when he said it.
She walked to the elevator instead.
The hallway on fourteen was quiet and carpeted.
Room 1412 had a sign on the handle that said Do Not Disturb.
She stood outside it for a full minute with her heart pounding.
Then she heard a woman laugh.
It was a warm, easy laugh.
She had heard it ten minutes ago, in the lobby.
Lena's hand was already on the handle.
It was not locked. Whoever was inside had never expected anyone to come.
She pushed the door open an inch.
The lamp was on.
Her husband sat on the edge of the bed with his shirt open and his hands in Amber Dunning's hair.
The leather folder with the Wolves crest lay on the nightstand.
Amber's cream blazer was on the floor.
"Say it again," Amber murmured against his mouth. "Say what you texted her."
"I love you so much, babe," Stanton said, in a silly little voice, and Amber laughed again.
Lena stood very still.
The text had been a joke.
Something they had done together, for fun, on this bed.
She did not scream, and she did not cry.
She took her phone out of her clutch and turned on the camera.
She filmed the lamp, the folder, the blazer on the floor and her husband's hands.
She filmed until Stanton lifted his head and saw the light.
His face went white.
"Lena," he said. "Babe. Wait."
She stopped recording and put the phone in her bag.
Then she shut the door gently and walked back to the elevator on her own two feet.
She was not going to run, and she was not going to let them see her fall.
Beck Rylander was standing at the end of the hall.
He had followed her up.
He had watched her open that door.
"Everybody knew," he said quietly. "The whole team. I tried to tell you in March."
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