Page 2 of Hockey Halloween
She rolls her eyes playfully in mock exasperation. “You didn’t answer the question.”
Taking a sip of my beer, I play along. “Fine. I’ll admit it; I’m a big fan of the movie. The history behind it, the action scenes, the Brendan Fraser of it all. What’s not to love?”
She lights up. “God, finally. Someone who gets it. I’ve spent years defending that movie.”
“You’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd.”
“I knew I liked you.” She winks.
I smile and gesture toward the bartender. “Can I get you something? Not embalming fluid, I promise.”
“Dealer’s choice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand. “As long as it’s not something blue or glowing.”
“I’ll see what I can do. By the way, I’m Ford. Nolan Ford.”
“Very Bondesque of you,” she comments, showing not a flicker of recognition at my name. “I’m Willa. Willa Somerset.”
“Lovely to meet you, Willa.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Nolan.”
I can’t remember the last time someone other than my family used my first name, but it sounds marvelous coming from her.
While the bartender works on our order, we fall into an easy conversation about the movie. We trade our favorite scenes, complain about the historical inaccuracies, argue playfully about sequels, and fangirl over Brendan Fraser.
“Seeing him together with Rachel Weisz was totally my bisexual awakening as a teen,” Willa shares. “When I swear that movie changed my life, I mean it.”
Her honesty makes me laugh freely. “I don’t normally find men attractive in that way, but I can totally see it.”
Her lips curve into a sly smile. The bartender slides our drinks over—two Old Fashioneds, each with a clear ice cube and a thin orange peel—and I hand Willa her glass.
Raising mine, I toast, “To unexpected meetings.”
“To wrong dates and the right company,” she counters, clinking her glass to mine.
I pause mid-sip as her words sink in. “So, if you weren’t expecting me, who were you expecting?”
Willa shrugs, her expression cheeky. “Some guy my friends set me up with. I was told he’d be waiting at the bar, dressed in a costume that matches mine. But honestly, fate did me a favor sending you my way instead.”
“Well,” I say, my tone warm, “I’m more than happy to play the part of your date.”
“What exactly does that entail?”
“Oh, you know. A little adventure, a little danger. Maybe rescuing you from a curse or two,” I reply. “If things go sideways, I’ll channel my inner Rick.”
She grins. “How ambitious of you.”
“I aim to impress.”
“I’m game if you are.” She takes a slow sip of her drink, then sets the glass down. “Okay, Nolan Ford. Tell me something real.”
That catches me off guard. “Real?”
“Yeah. Something honest. No movie references or smooth lines.”
I glance at the drink in my hand, then back at her. I don’t want to talk about hockey right now, so I have to pick something else.
“Alright. I have two little sisters from my dad’s second marriage. They’re fifteen and seventeen years younger than me. I FaceTime them every day, especially when I travel. They’re absolute gremlins who live to make fun of me. I still wouldn’t trade them for anything.”
