Aiden nodded and she pulled him into the living room where she grabbed a large vase from a shelf by the television.
"If you guys would like something to drink, the bar is set up in the corner over there." Charlotte pointed with her flowers to bottles of liquor and her fancy highball glasses that she only pulled out on special occasions. "Aiden, I got you a special Detroit Pirates cup for tonight and there's some apple juice in the fridge. Want to follow me?"
"Awesome!"
She and her date headed for the kitchen with his mother following behind them wearing what Charlotte now noticed was very questionable footwear.
"Rachel, if you go down that hall, second door on the left is my bedroom. I promise I have shoes in my closet that are much better than what you're wearing."
The woman gave her a knowing smirk. "I'm wearing Cookie Monster slippers. I'm sure whatever you have will be more appropriate for this dress."
"I gave those to her for Christmas," Aiden explained.
"Once again, proving you are an amazing gentleman," Charlotte said.
The two of them deftly maneuvered around the chefs in her kitchen to get some water for her vase. She had to admit that she actually couldn't remember the last time anyone bought her flowers, and she wasn't sure if it was sweet or pathetic that she finally got some from a six-year-old.
Charlotte put the flowers on her coffee table in the living room and left the boys to check on Rachel, who came out of her closet with a strappy pair of black Jimmy Choo shoes.
"Those look much better."
"It's not hard to compete with Cookie Monster slippers when you have a shoe collection like that." Rachel started to head for the bedroom door. "You coming?"
Charlotte shook her head. "I just need to refresh my lipstick. I'm on my way."
Her guest gave her a knowing smile as if she thought that Charlotte was stalling to make sure she looked perfect, which was actually the case. But this definitely was still not a date.
Charlotte had just turned the bathroom light off when she heard the doorbell ring again, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves before telling herself there was nothing to be nervous about. She looked out to see that Adam had already answered the door and was introducing himself and Rachel to Jordan King, captain of the Detroit Pirates, who was currently standing in her living room.
Charlotte walked out of the bedroom and down the hall, growing more confident as each step of her three-inch heels made a decisive "click" on her dark hardwood floors. The sound got Jordan's attention and he turned, a smile growing bigger on his lips as she got closer.
"Miss Charlotte Stone," he said, bowing slightly as if he was Fitzwilliam Darcy and this was some damn Jane Austen novel.
"Mr. King, I presume," she replied demurely.
He walked over to her and gave her a polite peck on the check. "I hope I'm not running late."
"Not at all," she said. "Dinner is almost ready, and you can give me your coat and help yourself to the bar over there in the corner."
Jordan smiled and handed her a dark sheepskin coat with a polite "Thank you," before heading to the bar she had meticulously set up.
"These look really cool," he said as he reached for one of her cut-glass tumblers. "Anything you recommend, Adam?"
"Charlotte stocked the bar with some good stuff so you can't go wrong." Adam looked very proud of himself for actually answering with a coherent sentence.
Jordan got some ice from the bucket and some bourbon from the shelf, his muscles flexing under his well-tailored suit. Not that Charlotte was paying attention to his body so closely. Except she was.
"So how do you all know each other?" Jordan asked.
"We actually all sit together at the arena," she explained.
Jordan turned and smiled at Charlotte. "The dead guy's tickets, eh?"
"Right, those tickets."
Charlotte could feel herself getting warmer. He not only remembered the fact that she got those tickets the night they met a few weeks ago but seemed to find his embarrassment that night more amusing now. Perhaps he wasn't the typical hockey player with the typical hockey ego. Perhaps.
"So just to clarify," Jordan said. "You two are married."
