Page 31 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

“Have you had breakfast?” I blurt out.

“Um. No.”

“Want to get something?”

She blinks a few times. Her eyelashes are crazy long, and I don’t think they’re fake. It would be okay if they were; lots of girls wear false eyelashes these days.

Shit. She’s going to brush me off again.

“You don’t have to suck up to me. I’ll take the job offer of looking after Otis, if it’s still open.”

I want to punch a fist into the air.Yes!I grin. “That’s not what I was doing. But yeah, it’s still open. That’s great. We can talk about the details,” I offer in an effort to convince her.

“Look, maybe we should get this out in the open.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Get what out in the open?”

“You asked me out for dinner. I didn’t think that was a good idea. I still don’t think it’s a good idea for us to get personally involved if we’re going to have a business relationship.”

Dammit. She’s probably right. “I get it.” I hold my hands up. “Just business. A business breakfast.”

She still hesitates, then says coolly, “Okay. Let’s go get breakfast.”

She opens a closet door and pulls out a black puffy jacket. When she’s zipped it up, she wraps a big plaid scarf around her neck and tugs a knit cap down over her shiny hair. “I’ll just grab my purse.”

She hustles to the far end of the living room and a spiral staircase there. She jogs lightly up, disappearing. I hear footsteps above—I guess there’s a loft up there that’s her bedroom—then she returns, adjusting the strap of the bag across her chest. “Okay!”

We set off along 73rd toward Central Park, Otis trotting along, stopping here and there to sniff interesting spots.

This isn’t a date. It’s a business meeting. We have things to discuss. Important dog details.

We chat about weather and Nashville and how this trip was just a quick in and out. “It’s a fun place to visit when we have time to hang out,” I say.

“Is that your favorite city to visit?”

“You mean, to play in?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d say so. It’s also nice to go to Florida and California in the winter. Playing in some of the classic places is pretty cool, though.”

“Like…”

“Boston. Philly. Toronto and Montreal. And when I play in Calgary or Winnipeg, there are usually lots of friends and family there watching.”

“Is that where you’re from? I mean, Canada.”

“Yeah. I grew up in Regina. There’s no NHL team there, it’s kind of in between Winnipeg and Calgary.”

“Your family is still there?”

My throat tightens. “Just my mom.” I never mention Bryce and my dad to people who don’t know about them. It just makes things super awkward and uncomfortable and leads to other topics I don’t want to discuss.

“How’d you end up here in New York? Oh wait, you said you were traded here. It must be a culture shock compared to Regina, I assume. Not that I know anything about Regina.”

“It’s definitely a culture shock,” I assure her, smiling.

We pause at the lights at Columbus and wait. A woman walking a dog approaches, and her pooch wants to make friends with Otis. Otis, the little weirdo, growls and backs away.

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