Page 3 of Much Ado About Hockey

“Exactly. Find someone, go to a nearby store, call someone, call an ex-girlfriend, or marry the first person you find… and we can unravel it once you have the job.”

“I can undo this.”

“You can undo this.”

“Find… someone… and we can undo this later,” Jett whispered.

“Precisely. Now, get moving so I can make the announcement this evening if you can get a marriage license to me this afternoon. Get the marriage license, text me, and we’re golden.”

“Got it.”

“Now – get to it, and I’ll send you the details.”

Jett nodded erratically, his heart still thudding in his chest. He needed to find someone to marry him… fast. Scrolling through the contacts on his phone, he flinched, winced, and grimaced several times. Yeah – old girlfriends were not going to be a good idea. There would be apologies for imaginary stuff he was accused of, groveling, or demands for a big rock, a big wedding, or an even bigger honeymoon.

No, he needed a stranger… someone easygoing and low maintenance. He needed someone who would be thrilled to have a handsome and rich hockey star even looking their way – with no questions asked.

“I need a nerd,” he whispered as it clicked in his brain. “I need a bookish nerd that isn’t too smart so I can sweet talk her into getting married immediately… but where do I find a girl like that?”

And in that moment, he heard a car horn honk in the distance, causing him to look over his shoulder – spotting a coffee shop bookstore that he never noticed before. It was like the heavens were smiling on him, and he could use all the help he could get right now.

“Bingo…” Jett breathed.

Running across the grass like a madman possessed, he barely looked both ways as he burst into the coffeeshop, causing everything to pause for a moment. He raised a hand and gave a very distracted smile at no one in particular as he whispered ‘hey’ in the form of a greeting to no one in particular.

The place was full of books with tiny little leather chairs tucked in corners. Some of the chairs had little platforms on the armrest to hold a cup of coffee whereas others were neatly arranged around a teensy table the size of a dinner plate.

Angling his neck, he peered down a few of the aisles to see if someone suitable was possibly perusing the shelves for a book. He craned his neck the other direction – and heard a voice interrupting him the moment his eyes zeroed in on a curvy form in pink cashmere.

“Can I help you?” the older woman said, glaring at him.

“Uh, coffee, please,” Jett replied, scrambling to fit in and needing an opening to talk to his pretty pink princess in the back corner to see if she was single.Of course she is,he thought as he glanced up at the small menu. “Um, I’ll have whatever an ‘Emily Brew-tee’ is.”

“Emily Brew-tay,” she corrected, stressing the enunciation. “Like the author?”

“Of course,” he fibbed, beaming. “I love all her work. She writes amazing stuff.”

“Stuff?” the woman gaped, looking at him in shock. “Wuthering Heights?Her variety of poems? It’s not stuff, young man. Her many works are an art form and…”

“I was testing you,” Jett interrupted, tossing her a wink as he put down a twenty-dollar bill. “And you passed. I’m very familiar with her poems from when I was in college – and the movie was fairly decent, but I’m more of a sci-fi-kinda-guy.”

“How am I not surprised?” the dry tone and the finality of her words seemed to end the conversation as he moved back from the counter to go take a peek at his pink puffball. He was going to be there for a moment – and if the face matched the rest of the outfit. He’d been on a few dates where someone wore something hot that struck his fancy only to realize the girl was a ‘two-bagger’.

That joke was something the guys on the team always joked about because if they slept with an ugly girl, it would take two bags over her head to accomplish the feat. He wasn’t proud to have laughed at the joke, having indulged in a few ‘give-her-a-chance’dates of his own… and held his breath.

Peering around the corner, he hesitated before almost sighing in relief.

She wasn’t ugly… so that was a plus… but she wasn’t exactly his type either. He liked them tall, blonde, leggy, and with a little less brain than what this girl obviously had.

She looked smarter than what he was looking for, but if he was going to be married to someone for even a little while, she had to be somewhat pleasant to deal with, and truthfully, sometimes stupid girls were annoying.

Fine, he’d work with the whole ‘smart-girl-scene’ and see what happened. Squinting his eyes, he drank in her appearance, studying everything.

No ring on her finger.

In fact, no jewelry at all.

Good.

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