Page 44 of Zero Pucks Given
Grayson smiled, then jerked his head to the left. “Manny’s taking photos as we speak.”
I turned and looked around. Tourists were wandering along the path by the river below us, and there were other restaurants on either side of this one with a smattering of customers.
“Across the river,” Grayson said, leaning across the table and pointing. “Rightthere.”
I spotted the telescopic camera lens across the river, balanced on the edge of a stone railing. He was aiming right at us.
“He told us to just act natural,” Grayson explained. “He’s taking mostly candids tonight, with a few closer shots after dinner. Apparently, I’m taking you on a walk along the river.”
“Oh, exciting,” I said dryly. “This kind of feels like being on an arranged date.”
“Except instead of being set up by a friend, it’s a multi-billion-dollar sports franchise,” he muttered.
“Exactly!”
We smiled, then ordered margaritas when the server arrived. He returned with the drinks and a basket of tortilla chips with three different kinds of salsa.
“I love this time of year,” I said, sighing happily. “That narrow window of time when it’s pleasant outside.”
“It’ll be triple digits this time next month.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
Grayson sipped his margarita, tongue licking up the salt from his lips in a way that made my core tighten. “But you’re right. This weather is when I don’t mind living in Texas. It’s probably still snowing in Wisconsin.”
“Same in Minnesota,” I agreed.
The server, a college-aged girl, took our order. But then she lingered a few seconds and asked, “I’m not supposed to do this… but can I get a selfie with you?”
Grayson smiled. “If I say no, will you spit in my food? Just kidding, get in here.”
The tall hockey player stood up, and she put her arm around his waist and took a quick selfie.
He glanced at me while sitting back down. “What?”
“You seemed to enjoy that.”
“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean.”
“It means you were a lot more enthusiastic about her than you were about our first date together. You even made a joke about her spitting in our food. I can’t imagine why you’re so friendly with her.”
“If you’re implying it’s because our server has a large chest—”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, yes. And because she was batting her doe-like eyelashes at you.”
“You should know by now that I hate it when fans fawn over me.”
“Do I know that?” I teased. “Because on our first date, you seemed annoyed that I wasn’t worshiping the ground you walked on.”
“I was surprised by your attitude, sure,” he admitted. “You were outright hostile on our date. And don’t try to pretend you weren’t.”
I paused to eat a chip, then said, “It’s possible I was less than friendly.”
He nodded once. “That joke I made about the food? It’s pretty much my canned response. I’ve made it a thousand times before with a thousand different servers, both men and women.”
“You’re good at faking the enthusiasm.”
“I’ve always been able to fake it when I need to. Especially in front of the cameras.”
