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“This is way better than the gas station shit I’m used to,” Ari says, pointing at the flute in her hand. “Now that I know what I’m serving to those VIPs at events, I’m a little bitter.”
“I don’t get to drink this stuff when I’m working, either.” I tip my glass in her direction. “Let’s enjoy it while we can.”
She looks at the door to the suite, and seeing that it’s closed, turns back to me.
“So you told me you guys did it, but I want details. Did you get a Brazilian?”
I cringe. “Yeah, but it was humiliating. Never again.”
“Your vag ain’t nothin’ special to them, girl.” Ari waves a hand. “They wax pussies all day every day.”
“Trust me, it was humiliating.”
She arches her brows, curious. “Well, now I need to hear about it.”
I sigh and glare at her. “Well, first of all, you didn’t tell me it’s called a Brazilian. You just said I needed to get everything waxed down there.”
“So what?”
“So I walked into the salon, in front of a waiting room full of customers, and announced that I needed to get my vagina waxed.”
Ari howls with laughter, taking a break to say, “No, you didn’t say that!”
“Oh yes, I did. People started laughing, Ari. And then the lady hands me a paper with their services listed, and I see that vagina waxing isn’t on there, and I about died.”
“Well, it had to be all downhill from there.” She starts laughing again.
“Um, no. The technician told me to cover myself with a washcloth, so I did, and then she came in there and just whipped it off!”
“She can’t wax your junk if there’s a washcloth on it, girl.”
“I know, but she didn’t warn me or anything.”
“Oh, Lindy. This is why I love you.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe I paid someone ninety bucks to rip my pubic hair out. It hurt like hell.”
“But…he liked it, right?”
I smile at the memory. “He did.”
“And did the cherry popping hurt worse than the waxing? What’s my man Victor working with down there?”
I give her a playful shove. “We did the deed. I’ll leave it at that.”
“Bullshit! I tell you everything about my sexual escapades.”
“Yeah, and sometimes I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Well, Douglas is surprisingly good in bed.”
“Douglas?”
“I met him on Match. Tinder got me feelin’ like a free hooker.”
I nod, my glass already half empty. “And why doesn’t Douglas go by Doug? He sounds kind of uptight.”
“Oh, he is uptight. He’s a lawyer. But he lets loose in the bedroom.”
“Is he a good guy?”
She shrugs. “I think he is. He hasn’t met Mateo, but he bought him a car bed and a bunch of toys for Christmas.”
“Aw, he did?”
Ari smiles. “Yeah. I like him.”
“I like him, too.”
She asks about my new job and catches me up on the latest with Bruce, which is that he’s still a blowhard. Then she makes me promise we’ll go order food and drinks from him during the game—and of course, complain about everything.
When my dad and the guys show up, they’re uncharacteristically quiet. I think they’re all pretty blown away to be here.
“Old Style can,” my dad tells the server for our box.
“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t serve Old Style.”
Dad gives him a look. “I’ll take whatever horse piss you do have, then.”
There’s a pause. “Yes, sir.”
When the lights and music signifying the start of the game come on, Don rushes over from the small buffet set up in our suite to his seat.
“This is the way to watch hockey,” he says, sounding as impressed as I was when I watched my first game from beside Lily West.
Victor and my dad have become fast friends. They’re already talking about tearing down the broken-down one stall garage that sits behind our house and building a new one during Victor’s offseason this spring.
I told Victor there will probably be a lot of beer drinking for every little bit of work that my dad does, but he assured me he’s looking forward to it. I think he likes being around my dad as much as I do.
“There he is!” Dad yells when Victor skates out and his name is called.
Ari smiles at me, enjoying his enthusiasm as much as I am.
As soon as the puck drops, the room goes silent. Everyone watches the game, Ari grumbling occasionally that the puck is moving too fast for her to see. Since starting my new job a couple weeks ago, I’ve gotten to watch nearly every home game from a VIP box. It’s the biggest perk of the job.
Jonah picked up right where he left off when he returned, and he holds St. Louis scoreless for the first two periods. Unfortunately, the Blaze don’t score, either.
My dad and the guys must like the “horse piss”, because they’re keeping out server busy just fetching the four of them beers. They’re all feeling jolly by the third period, when we all jump out of our seats as Victor assists Anton in scoring a goal. Well, all but Don. He kinda stumbles into the wall instead of jumping out of his seat. He’s definitely gonna need to sleep this night off tomorrow.
