Page 22 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wolseley
I was nervous about going to a drag show with Brandon. In fact, I was freaking out. The last thing I imagined was an uber-masculine hockey player wanting to go to a drag show. Add to that how Brandon rarely did anything that wasn’t perfectly planned. Part of me also thought he wouldn’t be very accepting: that he was—how did I put this delicately—only interested in his preferred lifestyle choice. But the fact that he wanted to go to a drag show threw that whole notion out the window, which came as a relief to me since Caitlyn would be attending the show with her girlfriend.
I hated that I thought he was bigoted and homophobic based on nothing other than a perception and my own bias. My whole life, I’d gone out of my way to be tolerant and to encourage others to be tolerant, and here I was making an assumption. I was the asshole. And yet I still wasn’t sure about him, so I told him about Caitlyn’s girlfriend, an accomplished violinist, on our way to the cabaret to see how he would react.
“Oh, that’s cool. With the symphony here in town?”
I suddenly felt even worse. He wasn’t a raging homophobe .
“Yes. She’s offered me tickets. I should really go.”
“I’d be happy to go with you. I’ve never been to the symphony.”
And there was the disconnect. I’d made all these assumptions because he hadn’t done much. No symphony, no drag show, no berry picking, no secondhand shops, nothing that wasn’t of the norm. That wasn’t what manly men usually did. I knew he visited the children’s hospital a few times a season, and he volunteered for all sorts of causes, and that was amazing, but he didn’t live life even a little. The entire Kodiaks season, he went to the rink, worked out, slept, worked out, slept, went to the rink, worked out, and slept. Hardly exciting. The man didn’t even go to the movies!
“I can get tickets from her. She always has some,” I said, a little surprised that he’d want to sit through a symphony, but then I had seen him meditate on occasion or read a book for hours. So maybe he could sit through a symphony without getting bored. We’d once talked about meditation, and I told him all about my trip to India and the cows. All the cows wandering around. Also, the monkeys. Then I had gotten back to the retreat I’d gone to and some meditation techniques I’d learned. He seemed interested. I loved that he listened to me and all my stories and tangents.
“I googled drag shows and got a bunch of five-dollar bills,” he said. “We have to show our appreciation for the performers.”
A spontaneous giggle escaped me. “You actually went to the bank and asked for five-dollar bills?”
“How else would I get them? I got fifty of them. Is that enough?”
I hated how cute and sexy this man was. Cute because he’d gone out and gotten all these five-dollar bills—the smallest bill denomination in Canada because no one wants you handing them one- and two-dollar coins—and sexy because he had on a fitted black sweater that brought out his blue eyes, and jeans that made him look delicious. Since the majority of people at a drag show tended to be women, he was going to be very popular.
“I think you’re good,” I said.
We got to the venue, and Caitlyn and Kathleen were already there. They waved us over and had thankfully saved us some seats because the place was jam-packed. Some of the guests were dressed up in outlandish party dresses, and while I’d thought about it, all my fun clothes were back in Minnesota, and I’d had no time that day to buy anything.
Brandon and I sat down as Caitlyn made all the introductions. A server was on us in seconds, and I ordered a fruity cocktail while Brandon ordered a beer. As I surveyed the crowd, I couldn’t believe how many of the women had their gaze trained on Brandon or were whispering to friends while staring at him. The man had made quite the entrance without even noticing it.
“Not a lot of men here,” Brandon said, looking around the room.
“There usually isn’t,” Caitlyn said, her blonde pixie cut perfectly done. “Maybe a third of the crowd is male on a good night.”
“Their loss,” Brandon said.
Caitlyn and Kathleen hadn’t eaten so they ordered food. Brandon—always hungry—ordered a burger and fries because he said it was his cheat day. I perused the menu, and since everyone was getting something, I ordered the vegan lettuce wraps.
Brandon jumped straight into a conversation with Kathleen about the symphony and being a violinist. The next thing I knew, they were agreeing that their jobs were similar, which made sense. They both were dedicated to their craft, practicing, working hard, and keeping their skills honed. Caitlyn and I watched them chat, enthralled with the conversation. Who would have ever compared a hockey player to a violinist?
“Baking is hard too,” Caitlyn said, feigning hurt at being excluded from the conversation. “I have to get up early, carry heavy bags of flour, and work complicated machines. It’s not all icing and decorating.”
“What about me?” I said. “Cooking all day long, buying fresh ingredients, coming up with new recipes. It takes a lot of training.”
“All right, all right, we get it,” Kathleen said. “We’re all superstars.”
First our drinks came, then the food. We were just finishing up when the show started. The MC for the night, Veronica Versace, a gorgeous drag queen with violet-colored hair with matching violet eyeshadow and what looked to be a colorful vintage Versace dress, called us all to attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! We’re so happy to have a packed house tonight. For the newcomers, we always have a charity that we donate to at the end of the night, and tonight’s charity is the Welcome Table. For those of you who don’t know what the Welcome Table is all about, Welcome Table is a nonprofit whose mission is to offer free meals to those in need. Last year alone, Welcome Table served more than a million meals. So make sure to open your wallet for out last performance today! We hope to raise five thousand dollars!”
The crowd hooted, hollered, and clapped, and to my shock, Brandon was right in there, cheering away. Who was this guy?
“First up, I’d like to introduce to you Jasmine LeBlanc, who is only looking for a little respect.”
Jasmine LaBlanc came out on stage wearing a bright red dress that hugged all her many curves. She waved to the crowd and did a little pirouette for us, then the music came on, and she lip-synched to Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” The crowd went wild, flashing their five-dollar bills and screaming for more. I shouldn’t have been surprised when Jasmine beelined for Brandon. She got really close, and he smiled at her, just as seductively as she was smiling at him. She sang him a few lines, and when he handed her a few fives, she blew him a kiss and went on her way.
Just like Jasmine, Coco Fox, Belle Rider, Crystal Blaze, and Sapphire Sutton also paid Brandon a few visits. In fact, Sapphire was bold enough to invite him on stage for a dance, and when Brandon accepted, the crowd erupted. I was screaming and laughing so hard that I lost my voice for a second. Brandon shimmied with Sapphire, who was half a foot taller in her clear platform heels, and then he gave Sapphire a hug and peck on the cheek when the dance was over.
When he returned to the table, he was flushed and beaming. I’d never seen him have so much fun, not that I usually found myself in places with Brandon that were overly fun. He ordered a round of drinks for the table as the ladies prepared for one ensemble song, the final act to collect donations for the Welcome Table. Brandon had six or seven bills left, just enough for each lady. I wish I’d brought more money with me, but Brandon had done a good job waving his money around.
The ladies lip-synched to Blondie’s “Call Me,” spending a lot of time serenading Brandon. To please all the performers, he pulled out hundred-dollar bills for each of them, and as an added bonus, each got a hug and kiss. I was sure a few of them were blushing under their makeup. When all was said and done, and Veronica and the ladies were counting up the cash, she made her final announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for your donations tonight! We almost reached our goal of five thousand dollars. Can you believe we were only two hundred dollars short? Come on, we must have some people here who can chip in a few bucks.”
I knew Brandon was going to do it, but I jumped up first. “I have twenty-three bucks. It’s all I have left, but it’s yours.”
Coco Fox came to collect it, and suddenly, hands were going up all over the place. Ten minutes later, the ladies had collected another four hundred dollars.
“My goodness, this has to be the most generous crowd. But I think we have to single out one of our guests tonight. He’s a special man, and he’s been very generous. Please come up here, Brandon Warde. The ladies want to thank you in person.”
Brandon jumped up, getting right into it. Each of the ladies pulled him in for a hug, and when they were done, he whispered something to Veronica. She nodded and spoke into the mic again.
“Mr. Sexy Warde—oh, that should be your drag name—wants to say something.”
I looked at Caitlyn and Kathleen, and we both shrugged. What was Brandon up to?
“Thank you for all the kind words, ladies. And may I add, you are all sexy yourselves. But I do want to say one more thing. I’ve heard about Welcome Table, and I know only good things about them, so I am going to match the donations tonight. We are at fifty-five hundred, so if anyone else wants to pitch in a few more dollars, I’d be happy to part with more cash.”
“You sexy devil,” Veronica said. “Did you hear that, everyone? Open your damn wallets because this man is opening his.”
Everyone clapped as Brandon returned to his seat. He gave a reluctant wave of thanks the first time the old, constrained Brandon made an appearance.
By the end of the night, he was in for a total of seven thousand dollars, not including the money he’d already donated that night .
“Okay, that was great,” he said as he drove me home. “The queens were so much fun.” I’d never seen him so excited. Normally, he was so serious and mellow. I loved this side of him.
“You realize everyone in there was taking pictures and video. It’s probably all over social media.”
He pffted that. “Who cares? If people don’t like it, then they don’t have to look.”
He pulled up to my building and insisted on walking me to the door, even though the building was well-lit, the street was busy with foot traffic, and I was feet from going inside. When we got to the door I turned to wave, but instead, he pulled me in for a hug. I think I sighed. Or maybe moaned. Whatever I did, I was probably going to regret it, but it felt so nice, his hard chest, the smell of his woodsy cologne—even though I could smell all the sweeter scents from the drag queens who kept hugging him—and I didn’t want to let him go. And strangely, he wasn’t letting me go either. Then I panicked a bit and froze. No, I wasn’t going to prove Tangi right.
I broke the embrace and smiled. “Thanks for the fun night. We should do it again,” I said absently and hurried into the building. I hated leaving him that way, but I liked my job, and I didn’t want to screw it up with a meaningless fling that would end in heartache, just like all the other times.