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He shakes off the Slade charm quickly and shifts his weight from one side to the other.
“Come on. Let’s go before you change your mind and don’t want to be seen with me in public.”
I laugh and then we both start to skate for the exit.
Chapter Fifteen
Slade
Penelope and I make it right before the morning rush and get our order placed.
I grab the plastic number off the counter that she hands me and then follow Penelope to a small table in the corner.
We both take a seat, waiting for our food and her drink to come out.
“Thanks for buying… again. You should have let me pay this time. You did break my fall this morning and you’ve spent a fair amount on my latte habit already,” Penelope says.
She pulled out her card the second after we ordered and slid it to Mary, but I intercepted the transfer and slid the card back. Then pulled out my wallet and handed Mary my card.
It wouldn’t matter what I make; I’d never let Penelope pay for a meal. Not because I don’t think she’s capable of providing for herself and covering my order as well, but because I want to take care of anything she wants or needs.
Not to mention that I make far more than I’ll ever spend with my Hawkeyes contract, even without the inheritance that kicks in here in a month from now.
“I’m happy to pay. I still have a lot to make up for,” I say. “But I will take an exchange of information if you’d like to give it of your own free will.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything you want to tell me. Maybe your childhood? How growing up with Sam Roberts as a father would make for good breakfast conversation.”
She smiles. “Sure, I can tell you about my childhood, but then I want to know about yours.”
My smile drops at her request.
Now, I wish I would have asked for something else.
I don’t like telling people that I was raised with a silver spoon and that I don’t get along with my parents. People assume I’m just another spoiled rich kid who’s ungrateful for everything I was given.
Nor do I like pointing out that my father considers me a massive disappointment and thinks that a hockey career is beneath our family.
“I grew up in Michigan," Penelope says. "My parents met during my dad’s rookie year there and married pretty quickly after. As a kid, I remember my dad traveling often and watching his games whenever they were televised. When my dad got traded to Seattle, my parents divorced.”
I knew this part.
Or at least I knew that Sam was divorced when I started skating my freshman year of college, but he never spoke about his ex-wife. I just remember walking into his office and seeing a picture of a beautiful young blonde in her high school cap and gown on his desk—Penelope’s high school graduation picture.
I should have recognized her at that frat house party the minute I saw her, but she was several years older than in the picture and no longer wearing braces, a cap, and a gown.
She didn’t look like Sam’s daughter.
She looked like… mine.
I never believed in love at first sight. And even when I first laid eyes on Penelope in that loud, overcrowded party, I didn’t realize it then, either. But now I recognize it for what it is. I fell for Penelope the minute our eyes met, and she smiled at me but getting to know her as Pen over those six months is what sealed it for me.
“Your mom didn’t want to move to Seattle?” I ask.
“It wasn’t the move that made her file. When I got older she told me that my father only had room for two loves in his life. Hockey being number one and then her. But when I was born, I took the number one spot and hockey took second. She was no longer on the starting lineup.”
“Shit, that’s sad. Was she bitter after that?” I ask.
