Page 44 of The Puck Bunny

I continue dressing and smile as I button my lavender dress shirt. When I reach for the dark gray, window-pane, plaid suit jacket, he raises his brows and Finn comes over and looks me over, too.

“What’s the matter? Doesn’t anyone dress up after games around here?”

“Sure,” Finn says. “If we’re on our way to a wedding or a funeral.” He smirks and brushes my lapel.

I slap his hand away. “You’re funny. You know, you wouldn’t recognize a basement bargain from custom Italian suit if—”

“That’s custom Italian?” Jonas lets out a whistle. “You really earned that Hollywood Hockey name—an Italian suit for a post-game—"

“I’m taking my family to dinner, shitheads. Do you mind?”

Rafe takes my side, bemoaning the lack of style from some people. Most of the locker room is embroiled in the playful battle over what makes good post-game hockey style and I don’t know if there’s more laughing or throwing down of the f-word.

Either way, in spite of the fact that I’m enjoying the banter, I put it on my list of things to do—donate the Italian suits to a men’s shelter.

* * *

After more bantering with the press outside the locker room, I look around for my mother, more anxious to see her than I expected, but I see Sara.

She’s loitering around the hall, taking photos with Billie Mae.

I acknowledge her with a nod. Looking away without a smile goes against my grain and the strong inclination I have to talk to her, but I move on and find my family waiting.

Relieved that Chris isn’t here, I exchange hugs and easy banter with my family. As we’re talking, Jonas comes by and I’m in the middle of introducing him to everyone and when Jonas spots Sara.

He calls to her, snags her surprised attention.

All my ease disappears as he sweeps her up into the circle of our group. She looks like a wide-eyed child visiting the zoo for the first time—excited, beautiful, and like she doesn’t fit in. The last thing I want to do is introduce her to Mom and my family because everyone—including Sara—will get the wrong idea. And who knows what Sara will say?

But since the only other option is to be unforgivably rude to her, I have no choice.

“This is Sara Bellagamba, everyone. Sara, this is everyone—my mom, Aunt Mary, and my buddy, Lenny.”

Jonas stands there, grinning like he’s watching a show. He set me up and doesn’t care that he’s making Sara uncomfortable. I’ll have to deal with him later. Again.

“Is this your girlfriend, Jonas?”

“Me? No, ma’am. She’s with Quinn.”

Fuck. I give Jonas a look that says, You’re a dead man, but he doesn’t care. My mother’s smile goes impossibly wide and I close my eyes for a beat to let the strong urge to strangle Jonas subside.

But Sara, the normally shy one, has one of her spurts of boldness and speaks right up. “No, no. Jonas has it all wrong,” she says. “I work for the Brawlers front office. Quinn and I are acquaintances.”

Jonas snickers.

Mom nods, one of those motherly, knowing smiles, the kind that crinkle the corners of her eyes and light her face.

“How nice,” Mom says. “What do you do for the Brawlers?”

Sara blushes and I know she’s embarrassed by her lowly position. “She’s a public relations assistant and very good at her job. She’s gotten me some good publicity in a short time I’ve been with the team. My agent says he got a call yesterday for another local promotion.”

“That’s wonderful. Seems like we owe you, Sara.”

“Not at all. Just doing my job. Besides, it’s a lot of fun.” She leans into Mom and lowers her voice. “It doesn’t even feel like work, really. I hate to admit it, but I’d do the job for practically nothing.”

I hold back a snort at her inside joke about her lousy pay.

“Oh you’re so cute.” Mom turns to me and I manage a nod. “She’s such a doll, Quinn. So sweet. I think we should invite her to dinner with us. Surely, we can add one more person to the reservation?”