Chapter 2
Jordan was looking forward to tonight's charity dinner and auction with the team's season-ticket holders, and not to find out who he was going to have dinner with this time around.
For several years now, he had put up for auction a dinner with him. The bidding had become more animated as different groups of people tried vying for the meal, and he actually had a good time every year he'd done it. Of course, the first year was the best when a group of young women talked their fathers into pooling their money together for Jordan's attention. The past few years, it's been some finance guys who love to be entertained by his stories while their wives like to flirt with him in front of their husbands. The food was always pretty good too.
Tonight was going to be different because Charlotte Stone was here. As the captain, he had to go over final details with the event's planners and figured it would be a good idea to check the guest list, making sure he could remember names from last year and seeing if the finance guys were coming. The event planner didn't need to know that he was casually checking the list for Charlotte's name.
There was a buzz that night as he entered the locker room in jeans and a t-shirt, his new tuxedo folded over his arm with his black dress shoes in his hand. For a bunch of gritty hockey players, they actually enjoyed getting dressed up and hanging out with fans. The open bar and free food didn't hurt.
"Looking sharp, captain," Logan said as the team started to collect themselves before heading into the arena with the proper attire.
"I know, right? At least I smell better than most nights here."
"You're telling me. Seriously, you need to get some new shoulder pads."
"And you need to get a new face," Jordan retorted.
A few of the guys started laughing around him before they were hushed by the team's head of public relations. "Just a reminder that even though this is a private event, you are meeting the public so don't do or say anything stupid. And drink in moderation, boys. We don't want a Declan Reed incident."
Jordan scowled. That stupid pest in Los Angeles got drunk last week at a charity poker tournament, made a fool of himself and was arrested for a DUI. Jordan was so glad the worst he ever had to deal with as captain was the occasional hockey ego that needed to be gently put back in check.
The team walked down the wide hallway past the Zamboni before it opened up to the arena floor and empty seats rising up to the rafters. The ice had been covered with boards and black carpeting, and tables were set up with black table cloths and white roses in low vases in the middle. The lights were low except for a stage set up on one side of the floor, and there was a cocktail area on the other.
Jordan recognized a few faces from previous fan events and most of the time, he would make a point to talk to the fans he had become familiar with over the years. But this time, he scanned the crowd looking for one fan in particular. Just like her first night watching the game, it was Charlotte's blonde hair that made her stick out in the crowd. It was only as he got closer and put fewer people between them that he was able to really take her in, starting with her tall black high heels that made her legs look amazing. Her dress was a classic black strapless number with one of those fluffed-out skirts that hit her knees and was giving him very naughty thoughts about having his way with a 1950s housewife. A little flirting with a woman like that would be fun. But just flirting. A relationship right now was not in the cards for him since he had a championship to win. A little flirting, however, never hurt anyone.
Jordan swaggered over, taking a place next to her at the bar. She was drinking some sort of amber liquor on the rocks, leaving a dark red lipstick print on the edge of the glass.
"Um, Charlotte, right?" he asked casually, trying to downplay the fact that he recognized her as soon as he walked in.
She turned, her brown eyes quickly taking him in before a smile began to spread across her face. "Jordan King. It's good to see you again."
"You too. Can I get you a drink?"
Charlotte lifted her half empty glass. "Still working on this one, but thanks."
He gave her a small nod and flagged down the bartender. "So what's your poison, Miss Stone?"
"Captain Morgan."
Jordan looked over and gave her a slight smile. "I'll have what she's having," he told the bartender before turning his attention back to her. "So you like captains?" he asked flirtatiously.
"I just don't like drinking cocktails with little umbrellas and lots of fruit. Keep it simple."
He took his fresh glass off the bar and tipped it in her direction. "To simple."
She raised her own and the two of them took a sip, the liquor burning its way down his throat. It wasn't the fanciest rum he had ever had, but Jordan understood the appeal to someone like Charlotte, who seemed to want to go against what was expected of her. He had been trying to do the same thing lately.
"So, Charlotte. How—"
"Charlotte!"
They pair turned to see Jack Foster heading towards them. Jordan cursed inwardly. Blocked by his own team owner. Again.
"You having a good time?" Jack asked, giving her a quick peck on the check in greeting.
"So far, so good."
"Has Jordan started hustling you for cash yet?"
