Page 11 of Zero Pucks Given
“Unfortunately,” she replied, getting a good look at me like I was an animal at the zoo. “So, you’re the famous Grayson Steele.”
“Unfortunately.” She wasn’t fangirling at all. If anything, she looked annoyed to be here.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Steele Wall,” she said, extending her hand.
I shook it formally. Was she making fun of my nickname?
“Let’s get this over with,” she said. “We need photos, right? Tell me where to stand. I’m good at following directions.”
Manny and I exchanged a glance, then he positioned us underneath the restaurant sign. Josie and I stood adjacent to each other, not touching or giving any other indication that this was a date. He snapped a few more photos, and then she opened the door and went inside without me.
What was her deal?
Carlo himself was waiting inside to welcome us to his restaurant. Patrons inside stared as we were escorted to our table. It was that way everywhere I went in this town. I was used to it by this point, but I still hated it.
We were seated in a private room partitioned off from the rest of the restaurant. Carlo told us to enjoy our meal, then bowed his head and left us in peace.
Well, notpeace, exactly. Manny was there to snap a flurry of photos while we looked at the menu.
“This is fun,” Josie muttered.
I found myself smiling at her. “Welcome to my world.”
“The team is paying for everything, right?”
“Yup,” I replied. “I hope you like wine, because I’m going to order something expensive.”
“I actually prefer beer,” she admitted. “But if someone else is buying? Hell yeah, I’ll drink expensive wine.”
When our server arrived, I selected a bottle of red that cost morethan the mortgage payment on my condo.
Then we stared at each other in silence.
“How long have you been a hockey fan?” I asked.
“I’m not.”
Chuckling, I said, “Okay.”
“I’m serious,” she insisted. “I hate hockey.”
“Then why did you sign up for the contest?”
“I didn’t,” she replied.
I laughed, but she didn’t so much as smile. She was being serious. What was going on here?
A long silence stretched. Josie glanced at her phone like she had zero interest in being here. I cleared my throat.
“Ah, I see what’s going on,” I finally said. “Bob put you up to this, didn’t he?”
“Bob?”
“From Marketing,” I said. “He set this up. He told you to pretend like you don’t want to be here, didn’t he?”
“Idon’twant to be here,” she insisted.
The server returned with our wine. The bottle was covered in dust, emphasizing just how expensive it was. After giving me a taste, the server filled both glasses and then we ordered our meal.
