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“Seriously?”
“Yes, I was blessed in that department.”
“That’snotwhat I meant.” Her cheeks flame red, and I hold back a laugh.
“Hey, I know my reputation precedes me, but I’m notthatbig of a player.”
She gives me a skeptical look.
“What? It’s true.”
“Okay.” She drags the word out and coughs “Tarantula Girl” into her hand.
“Fair enough.” I laugh. “But that was one of my mother’s setups.”
“Good grief. No wonder you came calling.”
Our gaze meets. “I think it was a good call.” Pink tinges her cheeks at my words. I lean back in the chair and break eye contact. This isn’t anything more than a business deal. “Friday’s game is away, but Saturday’s is at home. That could be our hard launch.”
“Hard launch?” That cute little nose of hers scrunches. “We’re not superstars. We don’t need a hard launch.”
“Okay, but wait and see.”
“Sure.” The word comes out as a scoff, but then she straightens as if something just occurred to her. “Wait. Isn’t it cold on the field?”
My mouth parts in disbelief. “It’s an ice rink, not a field, but yeah, it’s cold. Please tell me you’ve been to a hockey game before.”
“Nope.”
My eyebrows lift in disbelief. “Watched it on television, at least?”
“Not really.”
“You never came to a game and watched Ryan?”
“That would be a negative.”
“Do you even like hockey?”
“Eh, I could take or leave it.”
“Jesus. Of all the girls to fake date, I pick one who is lame as fuck.”
“Hey!” She smacks my arm. “Just for that, I need hazard pay for unpleasant working conditions.”
God, she’s cute.
“What are we talking about here? The way I see it, it’s just part of the gig.”
“No one should have to suffer through the cold.” She taps her chin. “An extra fifty for games.”
“Twenty-five.”
She leans back, crossing her arms. “Seventy-five.”
“That’s not how you negotiate.”
“I’ll need to purchase extra items like mittens and a hat. I left those behind in Boston. Seventy-five per game. Take it or leave it.”
