Page 61 of Her Hat Trick Daddies

“What exactly are these deliveries?”

“It’s a bunch of different things. Gifts as a thank you for helping me with something really important,” I add, hoping that’ll curb her curiosity and bump it up her priority list.

“Well, none of us have keys to the individual offices.”

Oh. Damn.

“Ah, shoot. Okay.”

There goes my plan to make this grand gesture a surprise.

“Are any of these items perishable?” Cecille asks, her tone a littlesly. Oh, she’s definitely on to something.

And yeah, some of them are perishable. Others aren’t exactly perishable, but they’re fragile, so… same difference.

“Yeah, actually.”

“In that case, I’ll ask the facilities manager to help. He’s got keys to every office.”

Of course he does. Cecille is always on top of her game.

“Awesome. Thank you. Seriously.”

“No problem.”

So, with that little kink hopefully sorted, I spend, like, half my morning glued to the phone, calling every shop, bakery, and restaurant I can think of, trying to line everything up for times when IthinkLeighton might be in her office. No clue if I’m getting it right, but I’m crossing my fingers. Then I sit down and write out this whole damn speech for myself and start memorizing it like I’m back in high school drama class or something.

Everyone likes to say I’m just a dumb jock, but hey—this is where that business degree finally comes in handy. I dowaybetter when I’ve got a plan… when I’ve practiced instead of just winging it.

Obviously. I’m sure Leighton’s picked up on that by now, especially after mystellarreaction to her dropping the news of her daughter on us.

My daughter.

Shit. I don’t know the first thing about her or toddlers in general. What if I meet her and she looks at me and immediately starts crying? What if I try to feed her and she dodges every single airplane spoon I send toward her mouth like she’s some kind of mini ninja? Do toddlers even eat normal food? I have no idea.

I’ve still got thirty minutes before I need to hit the ice for practice, so naturally, I start googling the dumbest things:

What do two-year-olds eat?

What size is a two-year-old?

What words can a two-year-old say?

Can a two-year-old hold a hockey stick?

I mean… that last one feels important.

The more I read, the more panicked I get, but at least it helps me think of something else to send to Leighton’s office. So I call up another shop and set that up, too.

Okay. I can figure this out. I have to figure this out. I’ve got money and I’ve got connections. I can provide whatever Luna needs, right?

Even if I don’t know anything right now, I can learn. I just have to treat this like training. Study hard, put in the reps, and practice until it becomes second nature. That’s all this is. Just… you know, with a baby instead of a puck.

If I approach this like hockey, maybe, just maybe, I won’t totally blow it.

Chapter 18

Leighton