Page 95 of Brooklynaire
“Smart girl. The practical implications of dating you aren’t really so great. Are you going to put a bodyguard onher?”
“Ugh. No. She’d hatethat.”
My best friend is quiet for a moment. “It’ll come upsomeday.”
“What are you, mymother?”
“Please. If I was I wouldn’t have started the conversation congratulating you on your sexlife.”
“Are you coming down the hall to meet with the tax guys now, orwhat?”
“See you inten.”
* * *
And if workwasn’t fun enough, my hockey team decided to really stink it up during games five and six. The Bruisers had led the series 3-0 going into the week. But after Monday’s debacle, they lose a remarkable two more games in arow.
I can barely leave the stadium after Saturday night’s game. The press conference is grim, and on my way out, every reporter in New York wants to shove a microphone in my face, asking me how I feel about my investmentnow.
No comment, fuckers. But I can’t say that. Hell, there’s a lot I can’t say. The fact that Dallas has just won the Western Conference slot makes me feelinsane.
I fucking hate that team. And my fragile male ego reallyreallywanted a chance to match off against them. Really alot.
But I can’t say that, either. So I let Ramesh and two of his team members encircle me as we make our way out to thecar.
It’s midnight already. I’m grumpy and probably poor company. But I pull out my phone to text Rebecca anyway, because I have no self-control.
And I find that she’s already beat me to it.Ack. Sorry about that shitshow of a game. Hugh looks like a bomb about toblow.
I’ll bet he does, I reply.Where areyou?
I see her start to answer me immediately.Packing for an early departure toDetroit.
Shit. Of course she is.Sit with me in the box onTuesday?
A couple of minutes go by without an answer. Ramesh pulls into the garage and I tell him good night. Inside, Bingley greets me, but I give him the silent treatment. He tried to embarrass mygirl.
Or, fuck, I guess it’s me who’s guilty. Bingley doesn’t have a humanbrain.
But why do we have technology if we can’t blame it when things gowrong?
Becca finally responds.I don’t think I can sit there in a box seat beside you and pretend I’m not undressing you with my eyes. I’ll watch the game with Georgia, as I usually do. And we’ll catch uplater.
Ah,well.
No problem, I reply.We can sit together during round four inDallas.
Awfully sure ofyourself! :)
Stick with me,babe.
Tell you what, she comes back a minute later.If our boys make it to the final round next week, I’ll sit beside you during the decidinggame.
It’s a date, I agree.If we win the Cup, I’m going to have to kissyou.
If we win the cup, I’m going to have to letyou.
I walk upstairs grinning tomyself.
