Page 25 of Yule Know It When You See It
“Do you know where Axel is? He hasn’t shown up yet today, and we really need to work on that piece.”
“Uh-huh,” Desiree says under her breath.
Simone’s gaze snaps to mine. “Who?”
“Sports.”
“Oh, right.” And her eyes are back to her phone. “Didn’t he tell you?”
“Tell me—what?” I hesitate to ask for a millisecond, primarily to hide the anxiety and vexation punching at my gut.
“He’s at the arena.”
Exasperation plagues my very core because she couldn’t have meant thehockeyarena. Right?
“As in, the hockey arena?”
Simone graces me with another glance, but coats it with indignation. “What else would that mean?” Her foot begins to tap, and I have about thirty more seconds before she deems me a waste of her valuable time.
“But I thought the Hawks game is tomorrow?” I rummage through scattered papers on my desk, finding the schedule and noting the date I circled and highlighted.
“Yes, but theypracticetoday.” Simone turns her back and adds, “You should probably be there too. Don’t you think?”
Of course, I should be there. Why hadn’t he said anything?
“Yes, ma’am.” I jump into action, lock my computer, and slip on my jacket.
“Foodie,” Simone shouts from the threshold of her office. “My office.”
Desiree does a two-fingered salute and squeezes my bicep as she passes. “Text me, yeah?”
“Sure thing.” I smile, grab my purse, and hurry to the train station.
* * *
The United Center atrium is completely decked out for the holidays, with tinsel, garland, and lights hanging from every fixture and bordering all windows and doorways. There’s a photo booth area for fans to take photos with custom Hawks holiday décor and a small stage where entertainers perform before the puck drops.
No attendants are working the ticket booth, so I approach the only food stand with an employee standing at the register. “Excuse me? Do you need a pass, ticket, or anything to watch practice?”
The older woman with peppered hair pulled into a bun lifts her warm, slightly-sunken eyes to me and smiles. “Nope. It’s free. But it doesn’t start for another hour or so.”
Another hour? Then what the hell is Axel doing here?
“Is there something else going on before then?”
The attendant nods and points toward one of several gate entrances leading to the arena. “Open skating for the public. You can rent skates from me here if you want to give it a go.”
Ice skating. It’s been nearly twenty years since I donned blades. Is Axel—skating?
“Yes, please. How much?” Digging into my purse, I produce my wallet.
“Five bucks. What size you need, sweetheart?” The woman lowers her head behind the counter.
“Seven, please.” I pluck a five-dollar bill from my wallet and hand it to her.
The attendant places a pair of gleaming white skates with brown laces and black scuff marks on the toes and heels from previous wearers. Bright purple guards cover the blades. The laces are tied together, and I drape them from my shoulder just as I had in my youth.
“Thank you.” I wave at the attendant before heading through the gate.
