Page 17 of Across the Boards

Before I can respond, Sarah leans across the table, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “What are you two whispering about over there? Planning your escape?”

“Just discussing Carter’s scientific analysis of urban livability metrics.”

Tommy snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“Don’t mind Tommy,” Sarah stage-whispers. “He thinks any conversation that doesn’t involve hockey statistics is suspicious.”

“That’s not true,” Tommy protests. “I also understand conversations about food and Game of Thrones.”

“He’s a man of diverse interests,” Brody agrees solemnly.

“Speaking of diverse interests,” Sarah says with the casual air that immediately puts me on alert, “the charity gala next month is coming together nicely. The hockey wives’ auxiliary just confirmed their donation for the silent auction.”

And there it is. I’ve been waiting for Sarah to bring up the gala since she mentioned it this morning. My best friend has many wonderful qualities but tact isn’t one of them.

“That’s nice,” I say neutrally, studying my menu with sudden fascination.

“It does,” Sarah agrees, not deterred in the slightest. “You know what else looks good? The new cocktail dresses at that boutique on Fifth. We should go shopping before the gala.”

I lower my menu to give her a pointed look. “Sarah.”

“Elliot,” she mimics my tone perfectly.

“I haven’t said I’m going.”

“You haven’t said you’re not going.”

“I’m not going.”

“She says, unconvincingly.” Sarah turns to Brody. “Don’t you think Elliot would enjoy the gala? It’s for literacy programs in underserved communities. Books, Brody. She likes books.”

Brody, to his credit, looks slightly uncomfortable at being dragged into this. “I think Elliot can decide for herself what events she wants to attend.”

I shoot him a grateful look, which he acknowledges with a slight nod.

“Of course she can,” Sarah agrees quickly. “I’m just saying, as her best friend who wants her to have a social life beyond Netflix and technical manuals, that the gala would be fun. Plus, the open bar is top-shelf.”

“You had me at open bar,” Tommy interjects, earning an elbow in the ribs from his wife.

“Not helping, babe.”

The waiter arrives to take our orders, providing a welcome interruption. As Sarah and Tommy argue over the merits of swordfish or sea bass I notice Brody watching me with a thoughtful expression.

“What?” I ask, self-consciously tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just remembering something.”

“Care to share with the class?”

His lips quirk up. “You always ordered risotto at team events.”

The fact that he remembers such a small detail from three years ago catches me off guard. “I did?”

“Mushroom risotto,” he confirms. “You said it was the only thing worth eating at team functions because everything else was ‘hockey player food.’”

I laugh, the memory suddenly crystal clear. “Oh god, I did say that. To be fair, there were a lot of chicken wings at those events.”

“No defense needed. You were right.” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. “That’s what made you interesting.”

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