Page 98 of Pucking Around

“Of course, you should,” I say quickly. Weirdly, I think he’s relieved to hear my answer. Does he care what I think about this? “Can I ask…why sea turtles?”

He just shrugs. “Why not sea turtles?”

“You could’ve picked anything.” I wave my hand at the table. “A children’s hospital, a burn center, an after-school sports program for underprivileged youth. And yet you picked to give the largest donation of the night to a bunch of sea turtles. Tell me why.”

His gaze traces my features and I fight my blush. “You’ll judge me for my answer,” he says.

I go still. “I promise, I won’t.”

He shrugs again. “I make millions as a professional athlete. It comes at a cost that I will never pay.”

“What do you mean?” I step in closer.

“I mean to say that I uphold an industry that thrives on the decimation of the environment. I spend a third of my life traveling and living as unsustainably as possible. I play in arenas that create mountains of waste. Every day. Every game. For the whole of my life, this has been my life. I do harm, Rachel. Active harm.”

“Oh, Mars,” I murmur. “So, you’re donating to the sea turtles. You’re protecting them…from you.”

He nods. “This amount is utterly insignificant. But I’ve jotted down the name of the contact at the organization,” he adds. “If I like their business model, I intend to become a patron. I will fund them in their entirety.”

I sigh, shaking my head.Of course. Mars Kinnunen, ladies and gentlemen. Devastatingly handsome, rich, talented, environmentally conscious, and self-deprecating to a fault. Yeah, I’m gonna have to walk away now.

“Are you bidding on anything tonight?” he says as I turn away.

I huff a laugh, still trying to unscramble my brain. “Umm, well I was hoping to maybe bid on a yacht trip to the Caribbean or a month of free salsa dancing lessons.”

Before he can reply, Poppy comes hurrying over. She may be the only staff member on the Rays besides me who is wholly unafraid of this man. “Mars, you can’t hide in the corner all night, honey. We gotta get you mingling. Oh and, Rachel, can you track down the other fellas and corral them back this way?”

“Sure thing, Pop,” I say with a smile, watching as she drags a reluctant Mars away by the arm. She wastes no time introducing him to a group of silver haired ladies that all ‘Ooo’ at his approach.

I dart away before I’m the next one pulled in, ducking around the corner, moving deeper into the museum. I walk up behind Langley and Novy, each chowing down on appetizers.

“I’m telling you, it’s art,” Langley says.

“No way,” Novy replies. “This is not art.”

“It’s hanging in anartmuseum, asshole.”

I peek around them to see what they’re looking at. It looks like a blank canvas. I smirk as I see that the plaque next to it actually reads ‘Blank Canvas.’

“Hey, Doc,” Langley says in greeting. “Whoa…you look really pretty.”

I smile. I can’t help myself. Langley is just so sweet and sincere. “Thank you, Langley. You look nice too.” He totally does. All these guys are knockouts in their fancy duds.

Langley points at the art behind them. “Hey—is this art?”

I step closer, stealing a mini quiche off his plate. “Well, how does it make you feel?”

“Uhh…confused?” he says with a shrug.

“Bored,” Novy adds.

“Like I’m a little out of my depth here,” Langley adds, glancing around.

I laugh. “I think, at its heart, art is just supposed to make us feel something. It sounds like you’re both feeling plenty.”

“Whoa,” Langley mutters, eyes wide as he looks back at the blank canvas. “Trippy.”

“Hey, Poppy was looking for you,” I say.