Page 29 of Power Play

“So what’s up?” I asked her.

“Well,” she turned and smiled at me and there was something in the edge of that smile that made me stand upstraight. There weren’t mercenary motives or calculation in that smile.

It was fear. Worry.

Everything in me was activated.

There were podcasts dedicated to my fearlessness on the ice. To the way I played like there was no tomorrow. Everything on the line.

I loved that analysis. Appreciated the way everyone saw me like that. I worked real hard to be that guy.

But put a woman in front of me who was scared? I lost my shit. I went full bodyguard.

“Are you sick?” I asked her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Is Tess sick?”

“No,” she laughed softly. “We’re both fine.”

“Then what?”

“I…I have to ask a huge favor.”

“Okay. Shoot.” The favors people asked me for usually fell into two categories. Money or some signed shit she could auction off for money.

I stepped past her to the cupboards and pulled out my supplements and vitamins. The green drink I had every day that tasted like ass but made me feel like Superman. Especially after the week of celebrating.

“You want a coffee?” I asked her. “How about a green drink? I’ve got some of that kombucha stuff. Or if you’re hungry I’ve got some…” I opened the door to reveal all the food made by my chef – Andrea, who I had briefly dated two years ago and then sent to culinary school. Now she was a private chef for a bunch of the guys. Win, win for everyone.

“Lamb chops?”

“It’s 8:30 in the morning.”

“Not time for lamb. I get it.” Her loss, because the lamb chops had been A plus. I pulled them out and some pasta thing. Oh, there was cold shrimp in there too.

“Tess hungry?” I asked, opening containers and dishing up some food before putting it in the microwave. Janice chuckled and shook her head.

“No, she doesn’t eat shrimp and pasta for breakfast,” she said.

“Well, I’m sure I’ve got other stuff.” I opened up my cupboards, but outside of the supplements, they were empty. “Hmm. I could order something?”

“You know,” she said, with a fond smile on her pretty face, “my friends ask me about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” I said, unsure of where this was going.

“What you’re like.”

“And you say I’m awesome?” I asked, licking some lemony sauce off my finger.

“I say you are exactly what you seem to be,” Janice said.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Of the highest order. You are yourself. All the time. Kind. Decent. Simple.”

The number of times I’ve been called simple in my life? If I wasn’t so well adjusted, I’d have a complex. But it was the truth. I liked hockey. I liked women. I liked my family. I liked my team. I liked being nice to people. Helping them if I could.

I also liked lamb chops and pasta for breakfast. If that shit made me simple, whatever, man. I’d take it.

“You,” she cleared her throat. “You told me if I ever needed anything I should just ask.”

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