Page 57 of Pucking the Team

“Good for you.” She held up her hand.

It took me a moment to realize she wanted to high five. Our gloved palms slapped together.

“But,” she said. “I didn’t even know you were dating.”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised that she would have known one way or another.

“I’m obsessed with fashion,” she said, with a shrug. “I was in Paris last year when you were on the runway for Dior, and then I saw you again in Milan. You’re always the epitome of elegance, your experience and professionalism shines through, and your new advert, the hot-air balloon one, love it.”

“Oh, well, thanks. Coming from you, a huge star yourself, that means a lot.” I smiled.

“Ah, there’s Wolf, he’s mine.” She pointed at the rink. A guy dressed all in black and with a black helmet was taking shots in fast succession at the goal. The goal defender was working hard to deflect as many as possible. “We just had our third anniversary last week.”

“Congratulations.”

“So are you with Eduardo?” she asked me.

“I…not really and—”

“It’s too soon, right, to hook up with someone else. I mean, this time last week you were planning a wedding.”

“That is true.” I paused. “But Eduardo, and Dylan, Ben and Theo have all been really supportive without being intrusive.They’ve offered me a safe haven, for a few days, a week perhaps, while I sort myself out.”

“They’re all good guys.” She nodded. “The whole team are. A few are rough around the edges, if you get my drift, but basically they’re all decent human beings who just love hockey.”

“I got to see my first game in Cardiff the other night.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Took me a while to pick up speed; you have to be quick to keep track of the puck.” I laughed.

“So true.” She closed her eyes and groaned, then rubbed her back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, honey, I’m fine. Listen…” She frowned at me and swallowed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“And you can say no…it just kind of feels like it’s fate or destiny or something you sitting here today.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. “Go on…”

“It’s a proposition really, and feel free to say no…”

I waited for her to continue.

“I have a new venture,” she said, her face lighting up. “I’m really excited about it, it’s fashion, you see. A line of clothing that’s the Mae French brand. Naturally it’s very country, lots of denim, tassels, sequins, and all that jazz.”

“Sounds great.”

“Half the profits are going to Welcome Home, which is The Vipers’ main charity, for sick kids, to get them out of the hospital and in their own homes, you know, they’re happy then. Kids need to be at home with their families.”

“I agree.”

“And the plan was for me to model the range, it’s my name after all, but now…well, it’s not going to work.”

“What do you mean?”