Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

“What’s up, old man? You have kids doing all the work for you again?”

Otto Wolfman turned. He smiled but tried to hide it as he waved me off. “Who you calling old? If you take a look in the mirror, you won’t see the left wing who scored three goals the other night. I believe that man is enjoying a Philly cheesesteak back home in sunny Philadelphia.”

Oof. That one hurt. We got our asses kicked in Philly the other day. But this ball-busting with Otto was all in good fun. It always had been. I walked over to where he sat on the penalty bench, and we slapped hands before I passed him a coffee. For the last seven years I’d been playing at the Garden, Otto Wolfman had tended to the ice, but he’d also been here thirty-one years before that. The ornery old bastard reminded me so much of my dad, though I’d never told him that. Every Saturday morning, I came an hour or so before practice and brought him the sludge he preferred from the street cart down the block. I’d made the mistake of bringing him Starbucks once. Once.

He pointed to the young guy driving his Zamboni. “This idiot paid ten-thousand dollars to do this. Can you believe that? Some sort of an auction where a bunch of rich, Wall Street types bid on shit. What’s he, twenty-three?” Otto shook his head. “At least it’s for charity.”

I looked over at the ice. The guy navigating the Zamboni around the rink wore a giant smile. He was definitely enjoying himself. I shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

“Got the weekend off after practice this morning, don’t cha?”

“Yep.” I sipped my coffee.

“Any big plans?”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Apparently, I’m throwing myself a birthday party.”

Otto’s bushy brows pulled together. “Apparently? You sound like you’re not sure.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it. But then I told a woman I was so I could get her to spend time with me.”

“Would be easier to just ask her on a date, wouldn’t it?”

I frowned. “I did. Multiple times. She’s not sure she wants to go out with me. So I stupidly told her I was having people over tonight to make it seem casual. Figured she’d be more likely to say yes if it wasn’t just the two of us.”

“A woman shot you down?” Otto’s head bent back in laughter. “That makes my day.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“What’s so special about this woman that she’s got you acting out of sorts?”

That was a damn good question. She had big, green eyes, smooth, pale skin, and a long, thin, delicate neck that made me feel like a damn vampire. But those felt like bonus points with Georgia. What I liked best was that she seemed to know who she was, and while she could poke fun, she was also proud and unashamed. Too many women wanted to be someone else.

I shrugged. “She’s just kinda real.”

Otto nodded. “Real is good. But listen, Pretty Boy. Nothing good comes easy. When I met my Dorothy, I was working security at a nudey bar downtown. I was young and handsome back then, having the time of my life with the ladies who worked there. I had to get a new job just so Dorothy would go out with me.”

“I ain’t buying the young and handsome part. But I get what you’re saying.”

“You players have no idea what it’s like to work for a woman. I see the half-naked women who cozy up to you any chance they get. It’ll do you some good to have your redwood-sized ego chopped down a bit. I like this woman already. I bet you she’s a smart one.”

“Might be too smart for me. Graduated from NYU business school and runs a successful company she started on her own.”

“My Dorothy has been a librarian for thirty years. She’s read more books than I’ve had beers. And you know how much I enjoy my Coors Light. So let me give you some advice.”

“What’s that?”

“Smart women don’t believe the things you say. They believe the actions they see.”

I nodded. “Good advice…for a change.”

We sat side by side for a moment watching the ten-thousand-dollar Zamboni ride.

“He’s doing a pretty good job.” I jabbed my elbow into Otto lightly. “You better watch out. I bet he can afford to pay fifty K to replace you.”

Otto scowled.

I laughed. “That’s payback for the Philly comment. Now tell me how your treatment’s going.”

He flexed both his hands open and closed. “Not too bad. Except my hands and feet tingle all the time. Doc said it’s nerve damage from the chemo. It better just be temporary.”

Otto had been diagnosed with stage four colon cancer last year. He was getting treatment, but the outlook wasn’t great, especially since it had spread in the months after he’d stopped his first round of treatments.

“Anything you can do for it?” I asked.

“More drugs. Doc said physical therapy might help. But I hate that shit.”

I smiled. Hockey players lived in a PT office. I always dreaded going, too. Just tell me the exercises, and I’ll be on my merry way. “What about acupuncture?”

“Pins and needles? That’s what I’m trying to get rid of, jackass. But you know what might help?”

“What?”

“Warmer weather. If you happen to know anyone looking for a facilities manager out on the West Coast, put in a good word for me.”

I shook my head with a grin. Otto had no intention of going anywhere, and we both knew it. But I hadn’t yet told him I was in talks with the LA team, though somehow he must’ve gotten wind. “I would say these walls must talk, but I’ve never had a conversation about another team in this place.”

Otto stood. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “No fucking selfies while driving that thing!” He grumbled as he sat back down. “Bunch of morons with those phones.”

I smiled. Yep. There was no better way to start my Saturday than time with Otto.

• • •

“Thank you for helping me.”

Jenna set a tray of veggies on my dining room table. She smacked her hands together, cleaning them off, and looked around. “Helping would imply you did something to contribute.”

I reached to take a carrot from the tray, but she swatted my hand. “Those are for the guests.”

“So I can’t eat any before they come?”

“I’ll let you eat one. But don’t dip it in the dip. You’ll mess up how nice it looks.”

Jenna’s husband, Tomasso, walked over. He grinned. “She won’t let you dip, huh? I warned you she was bonkers about shit like this when she offered you help.”

Jenna’s hands flew to her hips. “You called me bonkers? Next time you want to have people over, you can order and make things look nice. I’m sure everyone will love Ritz crackers with Cheez Whiz.” She was all of about five-two, a solid foot shorter than her tree trunk of a husband.

Yet he shoved his hands into his pockets with a sulk. “Sorry, babe.”

I chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” She wagged a finger my way. “Go do something about that little furball over there. He keeps trying to get up on the coffee table where the charcuterie board is.”

I lifted my hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

I took the dogs into the kitchen and fed them, even though it wouldn’t stop them from trying to swipe something.

A little while later, the first guests arrived. I’d invited twelve people—or rather Jenna had. She’d said it was the perfect number to qualify as a party, but also not so many that I’d have to spend all night playing host, which would take away from my time with Georgia. I didn’t argue, since she was doing all the work, but the people coming were my friends—they wouldn’t give a crap if I ignored them. Which was exactly what I’d be doing once Georgia got here. The woman had gotten to me.

At about eight, almost everyone had arrived, except the person I was throwing this sham of a party for. My cell was on the charger in the kitchen, so I went to go check if maybe she’d texted.

There’d been a missed call around six thirty and then a text around seven.

Georgia: Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got my voicemail. I’m sorry for canceling last minute.

Shit.

I swiped into my voicemail and hit play next to her name.

“Hey. It’s Georgia. I’m sorry to call at the last second, but I’m not going to be able to come tonight. I wasn’t feeling so hot yesterday, and this morning I woke up sort of achy and wiped out. I took some Motrin a few hours ago hoping I’d feel better and laid down for a little while, and I actually just woke up. I never nap, so I didn’t expect to pass out for almost three hours or I would’ve called sooner. Now my throat is a little sore, and I’m running a low fever. I feel awful for canceling on your birthday, but I’m not going to be able to come. I’m sorry, Max. I hope you have a great party.”

I frowned. This sucks. When I read the text, I assumed she was blowing me off. But she didn’t sound so good, and that caused an ache in my chest. So I hit Call Back and leaned against the counter, waiting for her to answer.

On the third ring, I thought I was about to go to voicemail, but then she answered. Her voice sounded worse than on the message.

“Hey,” she croaked.

“You don’t sound so good.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel too hot. It hurts when I swallow, and my head weighs a hundred pounds. I’m really sorry I can’t come.”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

“I don’t think I’ve been sick in ten years. Not even a cold. I’m sort of a big baby when I don’t feel well. You must think I’m a total wimp. Hockey players play with broken bones and injuries all the time.”

“Nah. That’s different.”

She laughed. “Thank you for lying. How’s your party going?”

“It’s fine. Four is being his usual con self. He’s perfected the big-eyed, pitiful stare that women fall for. He sits at their feet and looks up until they lift him and tell him how cute he is. Then he eyes whatever they’re eating as if he hasn’t been fed in a year. Nine times out of ten, I get yelled at for not feeding him enough. Meanwhile his bowl of dog food is full in the kitchen. If he were a human, he’d be one of those guys who run shill card games that take tourists for all their money near Penn Station.”

Georgia laughed, but the laugh rolled into a coughing fit. “Sorry. Excuse me.”

“No problem.”

She sighed. “I was looking forward to meeting Four.”

“He was looking forward to meeting you, too. You’ll have to make it up to him.”

I heard the smile in her voice. “Just him? Not the birthday boy?”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

Jenna burst into the kitchen. “The caterer is here with the hot food for dinner.”

“Hang on a second, okay?” I covered the phone. “Will you do me a favor and tell them to come in here. I’ll be off in a minute.”

“Sure. I also need you to open more red wine.”

“Okay.”

Once Jenna shut the kitchen door, I took my hand off the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“It sounds like you’re busy. I’ll let you go.”

As much as I didn’t want to hang up, I knew I should. “Alright, yeah. I’ll check in with you tomorrow to see how you feel.”

“Have a great time at your party, and happy birthday, Max.”

“Thank you. Feel better. Get some sleep.”

After I hung up, I paid the caterers and opened a few more bottles of wine. I tried to keep my head in a few conversations, but my heart just wasn’t in it. So when I noticed Jenna going into the kitchen with an empty tray, I followed her.

“How much of an asshole would I be if I slipped out of my own party for an hour or two?”

“Where the hell would you go?”

“To Georgia’s. She’s not feeling well.”

“I was wondering why she wasn’t here. Do you think she’s lying and you want to go over and see if she’s really home or something?”

I shook my head. “No, I believe her. Thought maybe I’d pick up some soup and throat lozenges.”

Jenna smiled. “You really like her, huh?”

“I know I’m going to regret telling you this, but…the only reason I even had people over tonight was because she agreed to come to a party, but she wouldn’t go out with me.”

Her smile widened and she sing-songed her words. “Pretty Boy got turned do-own.”

“Why does that make people so happy to hear?”

“Because it’s entertaining to watch you be treated like a mere mortal—you know, like the rest of us.”

I rolled my eyes. “Will you hold down the fort for an hour or two? Just feed people and liquor them up.”

Jenna waved her hand. “Go.”

I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Jen.”

As I reached the kitchen door, she yelled after me, “Wait!”

I turned back.

“Take Four with you. Women are suckers for that little guy.”

• • •

I might’ve overdone it.

I’d bought so much crap on my way over that I had to set two of the bags on the floor to knock on Georgia’s apartment door. I’d decided not to call first, which right about now I was second-guessing. The woman didn’t even want to go out with me, and here I was showing up at her building and checking the mailboxes like a stalker to see what apartment she lived in. What had seemed like a good idea suddenly felt a little desperate.

But fuck it, I was here already—and with enough over-the-counter medicines to open a small pharmacy—so I knocked.

Once I did, my heart raced like I was thirteen, alone in the dark movie theater with Amy Chase. What the hell had come over me? I wasn’t sure, but when no one came to the door right away, I debated whether I would knock a second time. What if she was sleeping? I didn’t want to wake her if she was resting. Just as I’d decided to head back home if she didn’t come to the door in the next minute, someone opened the door to the apartment next to hers, and Four started to bark like a lunatic. His high-pitched chirp echoed through the hallway, and the old man who’d stepped out jumped. He was so startled, he nearly fell over. I tried to calm my six-pound guard dog while apologizing.

Then before I could shut Four up, Georgia’s door whipped open.

“Max?” Her brows pulled together. “What are you doing here?”

I bent and scooped up the bags of supplies, holding them like a peace offering. “I brought you some soup. And throat lozenges. And…other stuff.”

She patted a big knot of hair on top of her head. “I look like crap.”

Georgia had on a fluffy pink robe, not a stitch of makeup, and oversized, dark-rimmed glasses that were crooked on her face. Her eyes were puffy and her nose red, yet she still looked beautiful.

I reached out and straightened her glasses. “You look adorable.”

“You’ll get sick.”

“I’ll risk it.” She looked clammy, so I felt her forehead. “You have a fever.”

“I ran out of Motrin.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I came. Can I come in?”

Her eyes dropped down to Four. “Oh my God, he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I inwardly fist pumped. Nice call, Jenna. I’d have to remember to send her flowers.

Georgia opened the door all the way and stepped aside with her hands out. “Can I hold him? Or maybe keep him forever?”

Or a car. I might owe Jenna a car.

Inside, her apartment was really nice—exposed brick in the living room, a decent-size kitchen with stainless-steel appliances, high ceilings, and not surprisingly, there were flower arrangements all over. It also smelled pretty incredible. I walked to the kitchen counter and started to unpack the stuff I’d picked up at the drug store. Finding the Motrin, I peeled open the bottle and shook out two pills. Then I helped myself to the refrigerator and grabbed a water, twisting open the cap as I walked to the living room where Georgia already had Four on her lap on the couch.

“Take these,” I said.

“Thank you.” She swallowed the pills and chugged some water.

“Are you hungry? I brought some chicken soup.”

Georgia shook her head. “I haven’t had much of an appetite at all today. But maybe I’ll force myself to eat some in a bit, when I’m done loving on this little guy.”

She dug her nails into Four’s head, and he nuzzled against her chest. With his head in her cleavage, the little furball glanced back in my direction. I could’ve sworn he was gloating.

Yeah, I am jealous, you little shit.

I grabbed the other bag I’d brought and sat beside Georgia on the couch.

“There’s an old record store next to the pharmacy I stopped at. The sign in the window said they also sold movies, but the pickings were pretty slim.” I reached into the bag and pulled out two of the three movies I’d bought. “This one is silent, and this one isn’t. I didn’t know if you preferred one over the other.”

Georgia’s mouth hung open. “Black and white? How did you know I loved old movies?”

“You mentioned it the night we met.”

“I did?”

I nodded. “I think it was when you were telling me how little you had in common with your blind date.”

“I don’t even remember that.”

I shrugged. “I also got this one.”

Georgia took the movie from my hand, laughing. “The Phantom Menace? Didn’t you tell me this one is the worst of all the Star Wars movies?”

“It is. But I was hoping maybe it would bring me luck again.” I wiggled my eyebrows.

Georgia smiled. “You’re going to try to feel me up when I’m sick?”

I held up my hands. “I wasn’t going to, but if that’s what the powers that be wanted…”

She laughed and then grabbed her throat. “Oww… Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

Damn, her smile made my chest feel funny. I wondered if I might be coming down with something, too.

Georgia held Four up in the air, smiling at his tiny face. “I can’t believe this little guy is your dog. He’s so freaking cute. What you must look like walking the streets with him. Do you even notice the women fainting as you pass?”

When I smiled, she pointed to my cheeks. “Put those things away, Yearwood. I’m weak. Flashing those dimples isn’t playing fair.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled more, making sure to showcase what she apparently liked.

Georgia stroked Four’s head. “I’m surprised your party ended so early. It’s barely nine o’clock.”

I shook my head. “It’s not over. I just ducked out for a little while.”

“You left your own birthday party?”

I shrugged. “There’s plenty of food and booze. Most of them won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I cannot believe you left your own birthday party to come nurse me.”

I leaned to her. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What?”

“I only threw the party so you’d come anyway.”

Georgia stopped petting Four. “Are you serious?”

I nodded. “It didn’t work out too well, did it?”

“I don’t quite get you, Max Yearwood.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to be able to walk into a room full of beautiful, single women and cozy up to almost anyone you want. So why are you over here risking getting sick for someone who comes with a truckload of baggage?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We can’t control chemistry, I guess. Can you honestly say you don’t feel anything when we’re near each other?”

“I’m attracted to you, yes. I’ve admitted that.”

“Chemistry is more than an attraction. I want to spend time with you, even if it’s just sitting here right now.”

She studied me. She still seemed to be trying to figure out if I was feeding her a line of shit. I’m not sure if she made it to a final conclusion on the subject, because she suddenly started sneezing. Not once, not twice, but at least a dozen times. Each time, the pile of chestnut hair on top of her head bounced around and jerked back and forth. She reached forward to the coffee table, grabbed a box of tissues, and buried her face in them until she finally stopped.

“God bless you,” I said.

“Thank you.” Her nose and mouth were still covered when she looked over the tissues with watery eyes. “Still feeling that chemistry?”

I grinned. “I do find the way your bun flops back and forth kinda cute.”

She laughed and blew her nose. “You’ve taken one too many sticks to the head, Pretty Boy.”

“Maybe.” I felt Mother Nature calling, so I looked around the room. “Is it alright if I use your bathroom?”

Georgia pointed to a hallway. “Of course. First door on your right.”

After I relieved myself and washed my hands, I turned to find a hand towel. But the bar that usually had one was filled with something else. Thongs. Lace ones. Two black, two cream, and a red. I stared down at them longer than was likely appropriate. For a few seconds, I might’ve even wondered if she would notice one missing. But then I dried my hands on my pants and forced myself to exit the bathroom like a respectable human being.

Georgia was slouched on the couch in the middle of a yawn when I walked back in.

“Why don’t you have a little soup, and I’ll put on one of the movies I bought so you can rest, and I’ll get going.”

“Will you have some soup with me?”

I hadn’t eaten anything before I left the party, so I nodded. “Sure.”

Georgia went to stand. I put my hand up. “Stay there. I’ll bring it to you.”

“Thank you.”

In the kitchen, I rummaged through her cabinets until I found the bowls. Then I searched some more to see if she had any saltines. She didn’t, and I noticed her food stock was pretty sparse overall.

“I take it you don’t cook much?” I passed her a bowl of soup and a spoon and sat down with my own on the couch next to her. “Your cabinets are pretty bleak.”

“Yeah, not really. I work late a lot, and it sort of sucks to cook for one person.”

“Are you hinting that you’d like to make dinner for me? Because if you are, I accept.”

She laughed. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Now you want me to cook for you? Make up your mind, woman.”

Her smile widened. I could sit here all night breathing in her germs if she kept that smile on her face. Even her pale skin and puffy eyes didn’t stop me from wanting to kiss her. I had to force my eyes back to my soup.

When we were done, I took the bowls to the sink and washed them. Then I pulled out one of the movies and looked around.

“Do you have a DVD player?”

She pointed to the cabinet under the TV and nodded. “In there.”

“I’m glad you have one. I’m not sure why I assumed you did when I bought these. I don’t have one. I just rent stuff on TV if I want to watch something.”

“They don’t put too many of the really old movies on the streaming services. I have to order them on DVD.”

The cabinet under the television was jam-packed with videos and books. On top were a few framed pictures I hadn’t noticed before. I crouched down and picked up one of her and Maggie—from Maggie’s wedding, I assumed, since she was dressed in a wedding gown.

“You look beautiful here.”

Georgia smirked. “As opposed to what I look like now?”

“Nah. You still look good. You can pull off snot on your face like a champ.”

Her eyes bulged, and she wiped at her cheek.

I grinned. “I’m kidding.”

She squinted and shook her head.

I checked out the other framed photos. There was one of her dressed in a cap and gown with her mom at her college graduation, one that she said was her grandmother, and another of Georgia cutting a ribbon with big scissors, which she said was at the opening of her first distribution center. But the one at the very end was face down. I eyed it and looked over at Georgia.

“Did this one fall?”

She shook her head. “It’s of Gabriel and me. I laid it face down before he left after an argument we had, and I guess I forgot it was even there.”

Considering she’d said he left eight months ago and there wasn’t dust on the frame, I wasn’t sure she’d actually forgotten at all. But I was curious about the guy, so I put my hand on the photo and caught Georgia’s eye.

“Mind if I take a look?”

She shook her head, so I turned it over. I don’t think I had a picture of her ex in my mind, yet he looked exactly like I would’ve expected. Tall, thin, good-looking enough… He wore horn-rimmed glasses that made him look like the English professor he was, and he was dressed in a button-down shirt with a cardigan sweater over it and slacks. Georgia was turned to the side and looking up at him with a revered smile on her face. Jealousy coursed through me.

When I looked over at Georgia, I found her watching me. Rather than set the frame back down where it had been, I tucked it inside the cabinet between some books. Turning back, I winked. “I put it away for you.”

She smiled. “You’re so helpful.”

After I finished setting up the DVD player, I grabbed the remote and went back over to the couch. Georgia looked better, so I felt her head.

“I think your fever broke.”

“I actually feel a little better. The soup and Motrin must’ve done it. Thank you.”

Four was stretched out on her lap snoring while she ran her fingers through his fur. I shook my head. “He’s such a ham.”

During the movie, we sat side by side. Georgia rested her head on my shoulder, and at one point, I realized it was no longer only Four snoring. She had conked out, too. So I turned off the TV and attempted to extricate myself without waking her. But when I stood, Four started to dance around on her lap and woke her up.

I lifted him into my arms. “Go back to sleep. Me and furball are going to get going.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Oh, okay.”

“Do you want me to carry you to your room?”

“I think I’m just going to sleep here.”

I picked up a throw pillow that had fallen to the floor and laid it at one end of the couch. Then I lifted her legs and guided her to turn and lie down.

She tucked her hands between her cheek and the pillow and brought her legs up into the fetal position.

I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Feel better.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes. “And Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday. I owe you a night out to make up for spoiling your party.”

I smiled. “I’m going to hold you to that.”