Page 23 of Slap Shot

“Doubting me already?”

“Hell no,” I tell her, and her confidence doesn’t waver. “But I will be impressed. Last I checked, I don’t even have peanut butter in the pantry.”

“I’m not a show-off, but I’ve always loved proving people wrong.” She flashes me another smile and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Start your clock, hockey guy.”

I fumble with my phone and hit the stopwatch, trying my best not to laugh. The seconds start to tick by, and Madeline moves around the kitchen like she’s been here a dozen times.

I watch, mesmerized as she pulls a package of ground beef from the fridge, unwrapping it and dropping it in a large pan on the stove. As she adds seasoning from a mixture of spices I had no clue existed, and puts three tortillas on a plate.

“Am I allowed to talk?” I ask. “Or will I break your concentration?”

“I’m used to cooking in a kitchen half this size with six people around me.” She reaches for a knife and weighs it in her hand. Keeping her eyes on me, she does that spinning thing again, and I’m on the edge of my seat. I don’t know why I think that’s hot as hell. “I can handle two things at once.”

“What was your first job?”

“I worked at a McDonald’s.” She grabs a block of cheese from the fridge and sets it on the cutting board she found. “I’ve always liked to cook, and I worked my way up from kitchen to kitchen until I landed my dream job at CARVD.”

“CARVD,” I repeat. “Let me guess. It’s a vegan place.”

“You’re funny.”

“Have you ever considered opening your own restaurant?”

“There’sa lotthat goes into restaurant management, and I’d want to make sure I was financially secure before embarking on an endeavor like that. I’ve dreamed about it, though.”

“Really? You should go for it.”

“Maybe one day.” Madeline bends over and rifles through a lower cabinet, holding up a cheese grater I didn’t know I had. I have no clue where the hell these gadgets are coming from. “How long have you been playing hockey?”

“Since I was a kid. I was born and raised in Georgia, and the sport isn’t as popular down there as it is everywhere else in the country. My parents found camps to put me in, and I learned to play while everyone else I knew was playing lacrosse and football.”

“No ambitions to be a lax bro?”

“Not a single one. My parents paid for me to play on a travel team. They supported me when I went to Denver and won the Frozen Four—that’s the collegiate hockey national championship.”

Madeline finds another pan and puts it on the stove after adding olive oil to it. “Sounds like you’re very dedicated.”

“I guess so. I grew up being told if I’m going to do something, you might as well give it your full effort. That means putting in hours and hours of work. I’m sure you did the same with your cooking. Can you do the knife thing again?” I ask, and she laughs. Flips the knife in her fingers then stabs it on the cutting board. “Sensational.”

“I’ll teach you.” She hums and doles out a spoonful of the cooked meat into one of the tortillas. After adding cheese and shredded lettuce she dug out from the fridge, Madeline folds the tortilla. She sets it in the pan with the oil, flips it two times, then slides it on a plate. “Here you go. A knock-off Crunchwrap Supreme.”

“You’re joking,” I say, and her smile is proud and assured.

“How much time do I have left?”

“Eight minutes. I can’t believe you made this from the stuff I have in my kitchen. It’s a real lifeChoppedepisode.”

“Those were the rules, right? I like to follow instructions.”

“I thought you’d hand me a piece of bread with mayonnaise on it. Not—” I grab the wrap and take a bite. I don’t bother holding back my moan. “Not heaven in the form of ground beef and melted cheese. Hell. This is delicious.”

“And you didn’t even have to stop at Taco Bell.”

“Yeah. I’m upping your pay to two hundred and fifty thousand, and I’m not going to let you argue with me.” I use my thumb to wipe away a piece of cheese from the corner of my mouth and grin. “You’ve got yourself a job, Madeline.”

She takes a step back and puts a hand over her chest. “Really?”

“Really.”

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