Page 55 of Hard Hitter
“She’s, uh...” He had to think of a way to describe her without giving her identity away. “Well, she’s smarter than me.” He held up a hand. “Don’t say it—that’s pretty much everyone.” That got him some chuckles. “Okay, she’s thoughtful. Classy. Not into bling.”
Castro shook his head. “Bummer. It’s easier when they’re into bling. Expensive, but easier.”
Pens were dug out of bags and shared. It was quiet for a moment while two dozen heads bent over their work. O’Doulfinished his breakfast while his teammates wrote down their suggestions, and then Jimbo collected them.
“You have to read ’em out loud,” Castro demanded. “We’re entitled to a little entertainment for our trouble.”
“I’ll read ’em,” Jimbo volunteered. He picked up the first card, which was Leo’s.“Buy her treats from her favorite bakery.”
“Not bad, College Boy,” O’Doul said.
“Always works for me,” Leo shrugged.
If only O’Doul knew what Ari’s favorite treat was, it would be a winner. “Next.”
Jimbo flipped a ticket.“Write her a poem.”
“Christ, have you met me?” O’Doul grabbed the paper from Jimbo’s hand. “Crikey puts twenty into the kitty.”
When Jimbo read off the next ticket, O’Doul almost fined Bayer for suggesting that hesing her a song.
“But you always do okay on karaoke night,” the other player argued. “And I saw it in a movie once. Chicks dig that shit. Doesn’t matter if you do it well. Only that you do it.”
There were murmurs of agreement. “Someone pass me a piece of paper,” Castro announced. “Some of this shit might be useful later. I’m gonna take notes.”
“Buy her shoes,”was the next suggestion Jimbo read.“Chicks love shoes.”
“No,” Leo argued. “They likeshoppingfor shoes. Would you like it if somebody else picked out your shoes? I wouldn’t.”
“Good point,” O’Doul agreed, tossing the idea aside. A whole room full of dudes, and not a clue among ’em. “Next!”
“Sully says,Take her ice skating,” Jimbo announced next.
“Gosh, how ever did you think of that?” he asked the backup goalie dryly.
“Dude. Your skating is better than your poetry. And if she can’t skate, she’ll have to hold onto your hands.”
“Awwwwww!” the whole room chorused. Several wadded-up napkins were hurled at Sully, but O’Doul filed the suggestion under maybe.
The next card said:“Cook her dinner.”
“Not bad, Massey,” O’Doul had to admit. “I can do linguini with clam sauce.” Then again, Ari was Italian. Maybe his linguini wouldn’t stack up so well. Another maybe.
Next Jimbo read off two travel suggestions.Take her to Europe. Take her to Disney World.
“Those are fine ideas—three months from now,” he growled.
“Have some patience,” the contributing player urged. “Not my fault it’s play-off season. Don’t take my twenty bucks.”
Jimbo readlingerieoff the next card.
Just as O’Doul was picturing Ari in a smoking hot negligee, Castro began shaking his head violently. “Bad idea, man. Seriouslydangerous. I got into so much trouble for buying my girl size large once when she was a medium. If you’re not a hundred percent sure of the size, you might not get any lovin’ for a week.”
Jesus. There was more risk in romance than he’d realized.
The next suggestion wasn’t bad.Get her a book. Shows you’re thinking about her beautiful mind, and not just her beautiful tits. And, hey, there had to be something in the bookstore she’d like, right? That was a keeper.
There were two cards left. The first one said simply:Edible underwear. “What the fuck?”
