Page 3 of How to Puck Your Boss (L.A. Hawks Hockey #3)

Chapter Two

T his is probably the best idea anyone has ever had , Jack West thought to himself and immediately relaxed.

If anyone knew how liberating anonymity could be, it was him!

He had been called a traitor loudly, to his face, about three dozen times in the last few days by complete strangers.

Somebody had even thrown an egg at him. He’d played for the New York Predators for eight years, but since he’d moved to LA, his former fans had lost a lot of love for him.

Thank God, the person he was talking to didn’t seem to know anything about hockey — otherwise, she would have recognized him.

And if she found out that he played professionally, she would probably bombard him with questions and start acting strangely – something many people, especially women, did in his presence.

He liked the idea of just being himself. Jack – under cover, but Jack.

Not Jack “The Saint” West. Jack “The Traitor” West. Or Jack, “the hot rich guy I’d like to sleep with so I can tell my girlfriends” West.

Penny didn’t seem superficial like that.

She was unvarnished and more of a natural type, although you never knew what kind of person was hiding, behind the facade.

If he’d learned one thing in the last few years, it was that he could only trust a handful of people.

So, if Penny didn’t know who he was and didn’t want to know, he had one less thing to worry about.

As luck would have it, he found her funny and likable too — and hot, if he was totally honest about it.

This was mainly due to her confident I-know-who-I-am-and-I-own-it attitude.

Jack liked to flirt, but he never took anyone home with him during the season.

Relationships, affairs, even just casual sex distracted him too much from his game.

Flirting, however, was okay. Continuing to talk to her about death by vending machine was also much better than sitting here in silence, alone, thinking about the last few, incredibly exhausting days.

He knew that most people enjoyed Christmas.

For him, however, it had lost its shine over the last twelve years and meant nothing but loneliness.

This year should have been different: He had his family back, even if his relationship with his brother and sister was still a bit rocky.

And then, a few weeks ago, he had received a call that he hadn’t been able to ignore and… fuck, now he was thinking about it.

“That sounds fantastic!” he said aloud to drown out his own swirling thoughts. “I’m Jack and I don’t feel like talking about work or family at all.”

“Wonderful.” Penny’s shoulders dropped an inch in sheer relief. “Then we’re on the same page. So, what shall we talk about?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Jack’s mind went blank. What could he talk about when ice hockey wasn’t allowed as a topic? He tilted his head and frowned, looking out the window…

“Don’t you dare talk about the weather!” she said in mock warning.

He felt a smile play at the corners of his mouth. That was exactly what he had wanted to do. “That…is the demonstration effect. It’s difficult to talk about yourself without revealing something about your family and work.”

“Ah, I don’t know.” Penny shrugged. “I mean you already know I’m single, afraid of flying, like numbers and statistics, and know a lot about whiskey.

” She frowned. “God, I really talk too much when I’m tired — and oh, yes, you know that too!

The way I see it, it’s your turn to get rid of some useless information about yourself. ”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Her list had been nice, but it didn’t cover everything he knew.

Her face, her clothes, the way she swirled the drink in the glass, all of that said an incredible amount about her – above all, that she was a complete contradiction, which made her fascinating.

For example: Penny didn’t look like she knew anything about whiskey.

He would have thought she knew more about how to make a voodoo doll.

Or how to prepare an arrow with poison. She had short, brown hair – practical, but not fashionable.

Several bracelets made of fabric and wood adorned her right wrist, her ears were pierced several times, and she wore an ensemble that was more suitable for a safari in Africa, but not for a New York airport.

Everything about her screamed pragmatic and practical.

Normally, that would have put him off. At first glance, he would have labeled her a tree hugger.

She looked like someone who believed in chakras and the healing power of rain during a full moon.

It was her trashy sandals and the little pendant around her neck that had one of those stones that changed color depending on her mood.

Then, she had spit in his drink and started laughing and talking and… How could you keep forgetting that you shouldn’t judge people by first impressions?

Penny yawned loudly, which could be a comment on the fact that he had been staring at her unashamedly for at least three minutes and still hadn’t answered her questions — or simply the fact that she was exhausted.

Jack tended to believe the latter. As for her face, the little wrinkles around her eyes and mouth promised that she laughed a lot and her intelligent expression revealed that she liked to use her brain.

These were all attractive traits in women. He knew that half of his team would disagree with him, but half of his team wasn’t even twenty-three yet, so they were basically a bunch of horny teenagers who didn’t know shit.

“Jack, are you still here? Or was there something in your drink after all?” Penny asked, smiling broadly. “You still owe me answers. Are you single? Are you afraid of flying? What do you like and what are your areas of expertise?”

A grin spread across his face. “I like how you asked about my relationship status as casually as possible.”

“As casually as possible?” She put a hand on her chest, feigning concern. “I tried so hard to be obvious. But, hey, you started flirting with me, so it seemed like the next logical step.”

No, as soon as a conversation went in that direction, his next logical step was actually to end it immediately.

This, however, was harmless! It was flirting that wouldn’t lead anywhere.

“Yes, I’m single. I’m not afraid of flying, which is a good thing because some weeks I feel like I’m in the air more than on the ground, and what I like and my areas of expertise…

” Hockey and keeping secrets . That was the first and last thing that popped into his mind.

Of course it was! He’d been living and breathing hockey since he was eight years old, and his past was a chest with five locks.

But both those things touched on his job and his family. So, they were taboo here. He had to think beyond the ice for the first time in ages. And it took him a miserable amount of time to think of something else, because his life was hockey! But not exclusively. Or was it? No. Not exclusively.

“I like vegetables,” he finally said slowly.

Penny looked at him as if he’d just announced he was a terrorist.

He grinned. “Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds weird. But even as a child, I liked vegetables! I always looked forward to eating them. Never complained about them.” Probably because when he lived with his father, he almost never had any…

and was jealous of kids who were forced to eat them by their parents.

He cleared his throat and blinked away the memories that had been rising to the surface in the last few months. “I hate casinos, and I can pick locks. I’m pretty good at it, too, if I may be so modest.”

“Ah, a criminal broccoli fan,” Penny said, her face serious. “And I thought I’d never meet one.”

He grinned. “Well, now you have.”

“I’m honored. What’s your best quality?” she asked.

Being able to score goals . But again, he swallowed the words. She didn’t want to know anything about his work. Nothing about his hockey self. So, he searched for the other self he so rarely used.

“I think it’s good that I’m…controlled?” he expressed slowly.

Because if he wasn’t, he would have been serving a sentence in prison right then.

And he definitely wouldn’t be able to live a celibate life during the season.

“I rarely raise my voice. And I hardly ever get angry. Pissed off, yes. Truly angry? Almost never. Not in years, actually.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Would you describe yourself as naturally calm and composed or is that hard training? And if it is hard training…has calmness become your identity by now or is it still difficult to implement?”

He laughed hoarsely.

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m used to asking questions. And I don’t like boring ones.”

That wasn’t why he laughed.

He laughed because he had done countless interviews — and no reporter had ever scratched his surface properly, while here Penny was, delving into the heart of his innermost being after just a few minutes.

No one had ever asked him such a question. No reporter, friend, or woman. His dates usually asked him…well, about his life as a professional hockey player. Or if he could take off his shirt. “Ask as much as you want,” he said, dismissing it. “They’re just not easy questions.”

“Nobody wants to hear the answers to easy questions,” she murmured, clicking her tongue.

He let out a playful gasp, took another sip of whiskey, and then said, “I think it’s both.

Calmness has become part of my identity, but it’s still exhausting.

The thing is, I was so angry as a child and a teenager that, at some point, I thought…

enough was enough. Either I die of a heart attack at thirty or I let go of the anger. ”

She tilted her head thoughtfully but nodded. “How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“Seems to have worked.”

“Let’s wait till I’m thirty-one.”