Page 30 of Playing Dirty
"You look lovely," Carol says, sounding amused as she offers me a glass of wine.She’scurrently sporting a Renegades quarter-zip that appears suspiciously fresh, as if it were peeled off a mannequin in the gift shop mere minutes ago.
"I look like I'm here to audit them," I say, fiddling with my cuff button like that's going to help anything.
"A very chic auditor, then." She taps her plastic cup against mine with a soft clink.
Carol settles into the seat beside her wife, Elaine, who has managed to make a team jersey look like a runway piece with pushed-up sleeves, gold hoops, and a perfectly messy twist. I really should have let Sabrina talk me into the bedazzled denim jacket.
Carol bumps her shoulder against mine. "Try to have some fun, yeah? We’ve got the game tonight and the gala tomorrow, and then you’re in the clear. Easy breezy."
"Easy breezy," I murmur. I am many things, butbreezyhas never been one of them.
By the time the buzzer sounds and the players begin filtering off the ice and back into the tunnel, the crowd has fully arrived, and the energy in the building has shifted noticeably. The Zamboni rolls out to resurface the ice while the jumbotron loops through highlight reels in a continuous celebration of past Renegades glory.
I'm halfway through my glass of wine when the lights finally drop, and a spotlight stabs down onto center ice. The announcer begins to introduce the starting lineup, each name met with a mounting roar until he reaches Cillian's and draws it out,O'ROOOOURKE, and the crowd erupts so loudly I feel like my eardrums are going to burst.
The Golden Boy has arrived.
The players line up at the blue line for the anthem, helmets pinned under their arms. When the last note fades, the house lights vanish entirely and the music kicks back in with bass so loud I can feel it vibrating. Thousands of people surge to their feet as one, and the entire building begins to pulse like a giant, black-and-gold lung.
The puck hits the ice.
Instantly they're all flying, hurtling across the ice at speeds that seem frankly inadvisable. They are giant men, but theymove with a surprising grace, and Cillian is the most graceful of the lot. He weaves through the chaos like gravity is just a suggestion.
A few minutes in, Cillian snags the puck near one of the blue lines and, without even seeming to look, sends it flying across the ice to a teammate who knocks it in.
"WHOOO!" the woman seated next to me shrieks, surging to her feet. Her arm collides with mine in the excitement, and a sudden wave of pale pink rosé sloshes directly onto the lapel of my blazer. She gapes at me in horror. "Oh my God, I amsosorry! I tend to lose my mind during the opening period."
"It's fine, really," I laugh, holding the fabric away from my body to prevent any further dripping.
"No, please, let me help!" She frantically snatches a stack of napkins from the cup holder and begins dabbing.
She's undeniably stunning, with a mass of honey-blonde curls piled into a clip, a team jersey knotted to reveal a sliver of her waist, and a meticulously curated full-glam makeup look that I've always envied on others but usually find a touch too overwhelming for my own face.
“Well I caused it, so it’s the least I can do.” She smiles and extends a hand. "Brittany."
"Margot." I shake it, smiling back.
"Margot.Sucha cute name. And you've got a really classy look going, so it suits you. Is this your first game?"
"Is it that obvious?" I laugh, tucking the wine-soaked napkin into my empty cup.
"You've got first-game energy. It's adorable." She angles toward me, fully committed, and I like her instantly.
I laugh. "Yes, I pretty much know nothing about hockey. I tried to watch a YouTube video explaining the rules in the parking lot, but I think I came out more confused than when I started."
"Don't even worry, I will be your hockey guide. By the thirdperiod you'll be screaming at the refs with the rest of us." She tips her chin toward the Solstice crew. "And I'm assuming based on your friend's clothing that you're rooting for the Renegades?"
I steal a glance at Carol and Elaine, who are currently deep in conversation with a few people from marketing. "I suppose I am. It's a work obligation, mostly. To be honest, I've never set foot in an arena before, but... go Renegades, I guess?"
"That's the spirit!" she says, her smile wide and encouraging. "What sort of work? Is that how you scored the VIP seats?"
"Yep. I'm a sommelier and do some client relations stuff. We signed a partnership with Cillian, so I'm sort of here flying the flag."
"The wine thing! I heard about that. Well, you ought to havefunwith him." She winks and nudges my ribs.
"Oh, no," I say quickly. "It's not like that."
"Don't worry, babe, you don't need to perform anything for me. I am a non-judgmental zone." She waves a hand breezily. “Full disclosure, in the spirit of girl code, Cillian and I hooked up a few times back in the day.Verycasual though, and I'm actually trying to lock down Betts these days if I can."
