Page 12 of He Has Game (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
“I’m glad you’re twenty-one,” I say, pouring the water into my glass.
“Did you even read the—” Mary asks, scowling as she sits.
“Yes. I thought I’d get to know Vivvie from close up, if you don’t mind. It’s a lot to expect of us to go from strangers to engaged in one week.”
Mary scoffs and takes a giant gulp of wine.
“You only need to act, Finn. I know you can do that.”
“What about Vivvie?” The girl is skittish like a kitten for real and Mary doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“Vivian will be fine because you’ll only be acting. And behaving yourself.”
“It’s all right,” Vivvie says. “But I do think Finn has a point. We need to get to know each other for real if anyone is going to believe we’re engaged.”
“Okay, then tell us something about yourself, Finn,” Mary says. “Something we wouldn’t know already.”
“I’m ticklish,” I say. “I love cold weather and surfing in the ice-cold ocean.”
“Like a cold-blooded reptile,” Mary says.
“No, that’s not fair,” Vivvie says, frowning at Mary and I wonder how many glasses of wine the older woman has had. This is harsh even for her.
“Okay, you’re right. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation about why he made a move on the Boylston Foundation CEO’s wife right under his nose at the—”
“He didn’t,” Vivvie says, sounding very sure of herself, which is unusual.
I look at her. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s not you. Besides, why would you?”
I study her for a minute and she doesn’t flinch, but she does take a sip of her wine, making her skin flush a tantalizing shade, like she’s ready—stop it.
“You happen to be right.” I take a good gulp of my ice water, hoping I won’t need to dump some of it on my lap before the night’s out, to cool off my dick.
“Whatever.” Mary waves her glass. “You did something to anger Mrs. Boylston, let’s put it that way.”
She’s right. I nod.
“It’s your turn, Vivvie,” I say. “Tell me something about yourself, something not a lot of people know.”
“I love Byron—the poet—making snowmen, drinking margaritas and . . . hockey.”
“Why the hesitation about hockey? You’re not trying to flatter me, are you?”
Big blush. “No, no, I really do like hockey. It’s why I wanted this internship for the team. Why I worked extremely hard to—”
“Vivian beat out a lot of competition to get the internship. Wrote quite a press release. She’s very talented. And smart. Keep that in mind.”
“I never had any doubt.” It’s true. I pegged her as bookish. I never pegged her as a sex kitten, though, and I’m finding she has that capacity. I’m fucked if she discovers it for herself.
“Okay, well you have your dates and places of your short background to memorize and a few other details, so that should do it. Finn, you should plan on picking Vivian up and bringing her home from the upcoming gala, and also plan on spending every minute with her while you’re there. No dancing or flirting with anyone else. Got it?”
“We’re all set.”
“Good. You two are dismissed for the evening. I need some sleep.” Mary stands and walks toward the door, expecting us to follow, so we do.
HelpingVivvie put on her coat feels natural, if a little awkward. I’m out of practice because, hell, I’ve never done it before myself though I’ve seen it done by others and in movies. I’d bet half my left ball Vivvie is out of practice too.
