9. Francesca

9

FRANCESCA

I was excited when Megan invited me to lunch on a Saturday afternoon. The team was playing at the Frostwolves arena and as much as I wanted to go to the game, I was afraid every time I watched the team, my eyes would go directly to him, and I'd give away our secret.

Megan said she was bringing Tonya, a new friend of hers from work. Tonya works for the Frostwolves in HR.

I open the door to the bistro and scan the booths and tables. Megan waves from a booth in the back. A blond woman, who I'm assuming is Tonya, is next to her in the booth. The woman looks to be in her mid-thirties with a blond hairdo cut into a shoulder-length bob.

I set my purse down on the bench across from them and slip off my coat.

"Hi Francesca. This is Tonya from HR."

Tonya takes a bite of the appetizer and holds her hand out to me. "Nice to meet you," Tonya says.

I shake her hand that's greasy from the cheesy nachos set in the middle of the table.

Tonya puts her thumb into her mouth and licks off the cheese. I can't help but notice that same hand goes straight back to the big nacho plate in the center of the table.

Megan holds out a plate to me across the table. "Help yourself to some nachos." Megan picks up the tongs from the edge of the serving dish and puts a few chips on her own plate.

"I was flippin' starving, you know? Sorry we started without you," Tonya says as she digs into the chips.

The waiter takes our drink order— each of us ordering a mimosa.

"I hear you're the new physician's assistant for the team. How's that? Do you like it so far?"

"I do like it. It's been great."

Tonya swallows the food in her mouth and studies me. She taps her chin with her greasy index finger. "You look so familiar to me. Do I know you from somewhere?"

I run my hands down the front of my jeans. "I don't believe so. I'm new to town."

Tonya tilts her head. "You just look so familiar to me."

I shrug.

"Where are you from?"

"Florida."

"Oh wow." Tonya's eyebrows raise. "Big change for you, right? What'd you do in Florida?"

My hands clench in my lap with my nails digging into my palms.

"Sports medicine."

The waiter sets down our drinks and I take a healthy sip of mine.

"Did you have your own practice?" Tonya leans her head back as the chip waves over her mouth. Her tongue meets the dangling cheese, and the chip disappears into her mouth.

Ugh. Manners please.

"And you're not a doctor, right? Just a physician's assistant."

Just? I'm not getting good vibes here.

"Correct." I nod.

I need to get this conversation going in a different direction and stop playing twenty questions with Tonya.

Tonya runs the top of her hand across her mouth.

"I wish I knew where I'd met you before," Tonya says as she holds her glass and studies me.

"What about you, Tonya?" I browse my menu. "What do you do for the team?"

"I don't have a fancy position like you do. I just work in human resources. I do offboarding for the team. So, when someone retires, quits, or gets transferred to another team, I help with that process. You know, retirement funds, pensions, contracts— that sort of thing."

The waiter stops by and takes our order. I get a salad, Megan gets a sandwich and Tonya gets a cheeseburger, fries, and a milkshake.

After he leaves our table, Tonya looks around and leans across the table. "You probably know all kinds of interesting things about the players, huh?" The odor of onion permeates her breath. "I've heard Buster and Moose are totally packing it, you know?"

I chuckle. "Totally packing it?"

She points towards her lap. "You know. Large packages. Is it true?"

I shake my head. "Oh, Tonya."

Megan bounces in her seat. "Tonya has been with a few of the players, but she hasn't been able to snag Moose or Buster to get proof."

The two giggle like idiots.

"I was with a married player on the team for a while, but we had to break it off before his wife found out, right? Talk about the best two months of my life."

"She refuses to tell me. Even though I keep guessing," Megan says and wipes her mouth with a napkin.

"I'd love to know how tall Paul "Feisty" Evans is. Any idea," Tonya presses.

I shrug. "I don't think I've even met him yet."

How tall someone is? Seriously?

"Well, his bio says he's five-eleven, but there's just no way."

"Yeah," Megan agrees. "There's really no way."

They both laugh.

What grade am I in? Seriously?

Tonya stops long enough for our waiter to place our plates on the table. She reaches across Megan's plate and grabs the bottle of ketchup.

"Anyway," she starts. "His web bio for the team says he's five-eleven, but he's more like five-seven— five-eight tops. Whenever we have the annual cookout for the team, I always try to stand right next to him, right? I'm five-eight— tall for a woman, you know? I probably shouldn't ask him to stand back-to-back." She lets out a cackle. "I'm sure you have access to all of that sort of thing in your position."

I shake my head. "I wouldn't share his medical information with anyone."

Tonya's shoulders drop dramatically. "Oh, come on." Her face becomes a snarl. "Well, it's not like his height is part of his medical information . Geesh."

This is an hour of my life I'm never getting back.

Tonya rubs her hands together. "I have an assignment for you, Francesca. You need to find out if the rumors are true about Moose and Buster— if they're really packing it. That's going to be your new goal. By the next time we have lunch, you can report back to us."

Megan grins. "Tonya asked if I've ever seen the size of Moose's shoes. They're huge ."

"And you know what they say." Tonya laughs.

I can't get through my salad quickly enough.

"We think Beth in the administration office might be sleeping with Buster, but we're not sure." Megan finishes her glass of mimosa. "We have it on good source, right Tonya?"

Megan grabs her side as she laughs with Tonya.

I shake my head. "Don't know either one of them."

Tonya purses her lips, "Well, you should know Buster. He's one of the biggest players on the team."

"I haven't met everyone yet."

"I still can't picture Buster with Beth." Tonya pushes her empty plate toward the center of the table and throws her unused napkin on the plate. "If you could see Beth, you'd totally get what I'm saying."

"She's right," Megan agrees. "She is like the mousiest thing you've ever seen. And her clothes, they're?—"

"Hello?" Tonya says with a laugh. "This is nineteen-seventy calling. I need my clothes back, Beth."

Megan lifts her finger between laughs. "No, no. It's this— this is the thrift store and I'm calling to get my clothes back."

My eyes dart between them like I'm watching a tennis game. I can't decide which one of them is more toxic. My stomach burns and my legs are shaky.

"A thrift store," Tonya proclaims. "That's it. It's worse than nineteen-seventy. It's a thrift store." Tonya shakes her head. "It's hard to believe someone in administration would dress like that. I've been surprised for years that they don't talk to her about it."

I motion for the waiter and practically shove my debit card at him. "Are you ready to pay, ma'am?"

"I am. I have to get going."

"What? Already? We were going to order more drinks," Megan says."

"I'm sorry. I have a lot to do this afternoon."

Once I'm out of the bistro, I take my time walking back to the apartment. It's chilly outside but the sun is shining and melting some of the snow.

I shake my head as I think about Megan. How did she get mixed up with that vulture, Tonya? I need to remember not to tell Megan anything . Thankfully, we only spent that first day together in orientation and the evening at the bar.

I can't confirm or deny the rumor about the penis size of Moose Thompson, but I can confirm that it felt quite substantial when he pushed up to me during our make-out session.

I giggle to myself as I picture what the look on their faces would've been if they knew what happened with me and Theo.

My giggle quickly turns sober when I think of the people that Tonya has hurt with her attitude. I frown as I think of Megan getting sucked into this toxicity with Tonya. I wanted nothing more than to make new friends here, but these women are not, and never will be, my friends. Today's lunch was a sober reality.