Page 17 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)

Chapter Seventeen

Brandon

A cloud was hanging over Wolseley’s head the next morning. More like a storm cloud and possible tornado. She looked sad and angry all at once, something so foreign when it came to her. She was always the bright spot in my day, so I had to get to the bottom of this. I hoped it had nothing to do with that Daniel asshole.

“You okay?” I asked, pouring myself a cup of coffee. Today was a training day, so I had a few extra hours before I had to be at the rink. Enough time to enjoy breakfast and not mind my own business.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

“You don’t look fine.”

She was stirring what looked to be some kind of oats. She had a cut-up banana, strawberries, and blueberries in a small bowl. Next to that was an avocado, tomato, and some of her homemade bread.

“I am. I really am,” she said absently.

“You didn’t hang out last night after the game. Jill said you weren’t feeling well. Is that it? ”

She looked up at me now, and her eyes seemed a little bloodshot. “Something like that. I’m fine now.”

I wanted to press, but I stopped myself. If she didn’t want to talk about it, I had to respect that. So instead, I sat down while she assembled an avocado toast for me, along with my hot cereal packed with a scoop of protein I couldn’t even taste. I devoured it all, watching her slowly clean up and pull out her notebook.

“I have a short day today,” I said. “Just some training. I have an idea. Why don’t I treat you to lunch instead of you making it?”

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “But I have lunch planned,” she said, pointing to her notebook.

“Can’t you do it tomorrow? I bet there are some places you want to try. Let’s do that?”

I was pretty proud of myself for thinking of it. I had no doubt that taking her out to lunch would cheer her up.

“Um, okay,” she said reluctantly.

“Good. I should be home by one. You pick the place.”

We had a light training day, and with the season just around the corner, Coach Anthony had a lot of pep talks and videos for us to watch. The final roster had been selected, and Landon, my road trip roommate, had made the team, but I planned to keep my eye on him. The last thing the kid needed was to lose his spot.

I got home to find Wolseley at the kitchen island, furiously writing in her notebook. Life would be so much easier for her with a tablet, but other than her phone, I didn’t see her use much in the way of electronics. I was afraid to ask why and have her launch into a long story about e-waste, even though I kind of loved her random stories.

“Hey,” I said.

She turned and smiled, but that cloud hadn’t lifted.

“How was practice?” she asked.

“Training day, and it was boring. I’m going to change, and then we can head out for lunch.”

She nodded and returned to her scribbling. Five minutes later, we were out the door, and when we got into the car, Wolseley gave me an address to a restaurant called Passionfruit. I plugged it into my GPS, and we were on our way. According to my GPS, it was less than a ten-minute drive.

“Why’d you pick this place?” I asked.

“I’ve been told by my fellow chefs that it’s the best vegan restaurant in town, and since I haven’t had a chance to check it out, now is the time.”

When we got there, the place was packed for a Tuesday afternoon, and I thought we’d have to wait for a few minutes, but Wolseley went up to the hostess, they chatted for less than a minute, then the two of us were escorted to a small booth.

The place was rustic, the booths and chairs made from what looked like repurposed wood. Lighting was at a minimum, and with the dark brown paint, it made it a little like walking through a dense forest, but then I guessed that was the idea.

“How did we bypass the line?” I asked.

“I told them who you were.”

I smiled, and she smiled back. “Sneaky,” I said.

“But effective.”

I grabbed the menu, but she quickly snatched it.

“I don’t want to be that person, but today, I’m making an exception. Lunch is on me because I’m going to do the ordering. You better be hungry because I want to try a lot of things. ”

She permitted me to order a sparkling water, then she bombarded the poor server with ten different dishes. Red cabbage salad, the passionflower hummus—whatever that was, but it didn’t sound like Wolseley’s hotmus invention—the passion pizza, the everything burger, chickpea fries, marinated vegetables, mushroom dumplings, an artichoke dip with house-made corn chips, mac and cheese, jackfruit tacos, and finally dessert, which consisted of passionflower pie and passionflower sorbet. Wolseley told the server that the food didn’t have to come all at once, which seemed to relieve the poor young woman.

“What are they using in place of dairy?” I asked as the server scooted away.

“Usually, it’s made from almonds or cashews. Think almond milk or cashew milk.”

“Ah. Right.”

I watched her look around the packed restaurant, eyeing people, or was she more interested in what they were eating? Hard to tell with Wolseley.

“Ever think about opening another restaurant?”

She fixed her gaze on me, her large, doe-like brown eyes looking a little sad.

“I don’t know. I’d love to, but after the disaster at the Oak—the name of my restaurant—I don’t have the stomach for it. Or the money. But mostly the stomach.”

“I’m sure it’s still fresh,” I said. “Give it some time. You are a great chef. You haven’t made me something I haven’t liked.”

She frowned again, and I immediately regretted bringing up the subject. She was already upset about something, and I’d gone and made her feel shitty again, even with the compliment. But since I’d done that, maybe now was the best time to see if she’d open up.

“You know that I know that something crappy happened to you. You said it wasn’t about Daniel, so what gives? ”

She bit her lower lip as if mulling over what she wanted to say.

“Tangi said something to me that surprised me. It was hard to hear, and I got upset. It’s not a big deal, and I’ll get over it.”

“That doesn’t sound like Tangi.”

Wolseley puffed out a breath. “See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. You like her, and you’ve never seen that side of her.” She paused. “To be honest, I’ve never seen that side of her either.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want to tell me?”

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s between me and her. I’m just going to chalk it up to what she says is her baby brain, or whatever it is with her hormones.”

I blinked a few times. Tangi was pregnant again? Why did that still sting? She had a kid with Ethan. She was married to the tool.

“She’s pregnant?” I asked.

Wolseley’s face instantly blotched red. “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say anything. She wants to wait a little longer, just in case. You know, the first-trimester thing.”

“I won’t say anything.”

But I kept thinking about it until the server deposited the hummus and homemade pita chips. I was starving and dove right in, while Wolseley first tried the pita chip, then dipped her fork into the hummus before finally going all out and dipping a pita chip into the dip. I wolfed it down, but I could see she was thinking about it.

“They use apple cider vinegar as their acid. Interesting choice,” she said. Nothing about her tone sounded haughty because Wolseley wasn’t like that.

“I didn’t notice.”

“Part of my training,” she said, flashing her sweet smile. It was nice to see it again.

After I mostly devoured the hummus and pita chips, the artichoke dip with corn chips came next. I could tell it wasn’t made with real cheese, but it wasn’t entirely bad. Not the first thing I’d pick. But the corn chips were good.

“You didn’t like it?” she asked.

“Not really. Kind of bland.”

“Noted,” she said.

The jackfruit tacos were actually good, the marinated vegetables were delicious, and the mushroom dumplings exceeded my expectations, although I was ranking them close to the artichoke dip. The star of our lunch were the burgers, fries, mac and cheese, and pizza. I could have eaten it all myself, but Wolseley had to eat, and I was getting full. We still had dessert to come.

“Great choices,” I said. “The mac and cheese almost tasted like the real thing. But that pizza blew me away.”

“The pizza was great,” she said, as we ate the cabbage salad last to cleanse our palates, according to Wolseley. “I think I can make better mac and cheese.” Her devious smile made me laugh.

Our dessert came, and it was nice getting to share that and the meal with her. I was pretty sure the passionfruit pie was going to be tasteless, but it was mixed with strawberries, which gave it a much richer flavor. The sorbet was a bit bland, but it went well with the sweet pie.

“Thank you for lunch,” she said after I’d asked the server for the bill.

“We should do it more often. It was fun.”

A little frown formed again, and now I was truly stumped. I thought the outing would cheer her up, but now I’d gone and potentially upset her again, and I had no idea how I’d done that.

“Okay, what did I say? ”

“Nothing. It was nice. Thank you,” she said.

As we drove back to my place, I kept rolling things around in my head, and I was coming up empty. Part of me wanted to call Tangi and ask her what the hell she’d said, but Wolseley wouldn’t like that, so I kept playing it over and over again, determined to find a way to break Wolseley’s funk.