Page 36 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

Once she was gone, Amanda smiled at Greg. “Is Rebecca really working or did she just not want to go through a family meal—even one with a celebrity guest?”

He laughed. “What is it with you guys? She likes coming here for dinner. She really had to work.”

“That makes one of her.”

“I like coming here too. I think you’re spending too much time at home. This is reminding me of the old days when you and the ’rents argued all the time.” He turned to me. “Don’t worry, Chris. Dinner will be delicious and I’m sure my family will behave themselves.”

Dinner was delicious. Bonita turned out to be the cook or maid or whatever the politically correct term was. She cooked and served the dinner. I wasn’t sure whether to compliment her or Jeannie, so I told them both how good it was. Dinner conversation was fun. The family did argue a little, but I could tell that they cared about each other. But after dessert, the subject of auctioning off a date with me came up again.

“Mummy, human trafficking remains illegal in Canada. Leave Chris alone.”

“It’s such a good idea though. Usually the prizes are the same year after year. I’m chair of the event, so I wanted to present something really special for the live auction. And these days, people are looking for experiences over possessions.”

Well, if I didn’t want to be the next experience on the plate of the charity gala, I was going to have to come up with something. Besides, having Jeannie Richardson owe me a favour might come in very handy. “How about a hockey game?”

Jeannie blinked. “Do you mean tickets to a suite? Unfortunately, that’s something most of the attendees will have done already.”

“No, I was thinking bigger. When the team’s out of town, you can rent the whole arena. So the winner could bring two teams to play. You get the scoreboard, lights, and everything. Nothing like playing hockey in an NHL arena.”

“Wow, that’s a great idea,” Gregory said. “My beer league team would think they’d died and gone to heaven.”

“It would bring out the competitive parents too,” said Amanda. “They would outbid each other to get their kids’ team the ultimate experience.”

Jeannie beamed. “Sounds perfect. But what about the most important part—how would you be involved, Christopher? The point of a celebrity donation is the presence of the celebrity.”

I was beginning to see Amanda’s point. Her mother was relentless. “I could coach the winning bidder’s team. And I’ll get an ex-teammate to coach the other team.” Jes Larson would do that for me, and we’d have a ball together.

“Are you sure that’s not too much of an imposition?” Amanda asked me.

I shook my head. Coaching I was good with. Separating fighters would be easier than fighting off a woman.

After my donation had been decided, we continued to chat about random stuff. Jeannie was definitely sizing me up, and that was good. If she thought I was a straight shooter, we would be that much closer to doing a deal.

The subject had switched to family matters. Apparently Amanda was interested in getting her own place, but Jeannie was enjoying having her at home.

“It’s so lovely to spend time with my daughter after she’s been away from Vancouver for so many years. You’ve grown into such an interesting woman.”

“Yes, because nothing says full-grown woman like living in the same room you did as a teenager. It’s practically a shrine to my high school years.” Amanda raised an expressive eyebrow.

Jeannie waggled a finger at her. “That’s not my fault. You’re the one who likes everything to be exactly the same. I knew if I threw out one teddy bear, it would turn out to be your special totem.”

They continued to argue, but I wasn’t really listening. Visiting her home was giving me a lot more insight into Amanda. She was becoming a lot more human and a lot less scary. Then I heard my name.

“I’m sorry, what did you say, Jeannie?” I asked.

“No, Mummy. Please,” pleaded Amanda.

There was a dramatic pause as Jeannie took another sip of wine. Then she shifted towards me.

“I was just asking if the poster of Captain Lucky was still on the back of her bedroom door.”

Oh ho. “Amanda? You had a poster of me in your bedroom?”

Her pale cheeks were bright red. “It was a long time ago. I was a teenager, for heaven’s sake.”

“You had a jersey too,” her mother added. “Signed.”

Amanda put a hand over her face. “It’s not a big deal. Every teenaged girl in Vancouver probably had a crush on Chris back then.”

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