Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player novel Chapter 209

Chapter 209

TESSA

“ACHOO!”

Debbie lets out another fake sneeze – her hundredth of the day. It’s so dramatic it actually makes me jolt, and my plastic fork nearly catapults a strawberry across the room. There goes my carefully curated ZEN state — the one I spent all afternoon cultivating so I could juggle a fruit salad in one hand and tomorrow’s report in the other.

I lower my fork slowly, inhale, and press my lips into something that might resemble a smile if you squint. I’m too tired to check. “Yes, Deborah? Can I help you?”

She dabs at her perfectly dry nose with a tissue, as if she’s starring in some tragic commercial for allergy meds. Then she tilts her head at me. “Aren’t you done with work?”

“If I was done.” I say evenly, “I wouldn’t still be here. Revolutionary concept, I know.”

Her eyes narrow like she’s cracked a conspiracy wide open. “Since when do you leave when you’re done? I was under the impression your plan was to work yourself into an early grave. Or, best case scenario, keel over at seventy–eight – death by paperwork avalanche.”

My fork clatters onto the container. I stare at her. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“Of course not. Have you even looked at your phone today? Or, I don’t know, the time?” Her whole act is so shady I don’t even waste breath asking what her deal is. I pick up my phone and- oh. Flooded with messages. Mostly from Cameron. Something about his car breaking down.

It takes me a good fifteen minutes to connect the dots. “Oh. Right. Owen’s barbeque. That’s today.”

Debbie nods like she’s just solved world hunger. “Exactly. So what time are you heading out? You should learn how to have fun, too. It can’t just be work, work, work with you. I’m clocking out want me to walk you out?”

I give her a look. “Walk me out? What does that even mean? I don’t have a ride. I’ll just head home. Walking to Owen’s would be… yeah, no. And taxis are out.” Her face twists like I just confessed to hating puppies, but I ignore it and start gathering my things. “There’s always next season, Deborah. Don’t look at me like I just ruined your playoff run.”

“You really never change, Tessa. It’s actually scary,” she keeps complaining, but I’ve already checked out.

Emilia won’t be home for hours – she and Liam are probably halfway through the barbeque by now so that gives me a whole evening to myself. I can finish my report, clean up the spreadsheets Adrian dumped on me, and still have time to scroll house listings while rewatching the episode I missed.

A place big enough for me and Em. Maybe pet friendly. Not more than twenty minutes from the office, closer to the bakery. The thought alone makes my head throb.

When we finally leave, Debbie’s still on her soapbox about “unhealthy work habits” and “quality of life.” I press my fingers to my temple. “I’ll buy you dinner if you shut up.”

Her mouth snaps shut. “Do you really think I’m that easy to bribe? That my genuine concern for you can just disappear with food? Is that how little you think of me?”

I’m already checking which restaurants are still open. “What do you want? You like Thai, right? Or Chinese?”

Her lips purse. “I’m not that easy, Tessa.”

“So… Japanese?”

Her eyes light up. “Yes, please.”

She’s giving me the name of her favorite Japanese place when we run into someone vaguely familiar. I know it’s bad the moment Debbie squawks and digs her razor–sharp nails into my arm so hard I nearly drop my phone.

“What the hell, Deb?”

She doesn’t answer – just drags me in the opposite direction like we’re fleeing a crime scene. “This way’s faster, okay?! I thought they were off today… what the hell is that bastard doing here?” The last part’s muttered under her breath, too low for me to catch, which only pisses me off more.

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