Page 40 of The Sweet Spot

She was all over the place, and that made me love her more. “So you see me as uptight and wholly intolerant?”

I was teasing her, and she knew it. “I just see the controlled and buttoned-down side of you.”

“I see this as a challenge. So why don’t we hit the drag show tonight, and while it’s probably too late in the season to go berry picking, and I’m pretty sure it’s too late for the Pride parade, let’s hit some secondhand stores. I can’t tomorrow because of the game, but the day after?”

Her eyes sparkled, I was sure of it. “Okay, you’re on.”

We moved on to Yee’s Market, where a few peoplerecognized me, but most were polite enough to let me and Wolseley shop in peace. Like Norman’s, she knew all the staff, and some had even put away some of their best produce just for her. Because I’d never seen her out in the world, I had no idea how many people liked and gravitated toward her. I couldn’t blame them. She was funny, sweet, cute. How could you not like her?

I helped her carry the groceries home, and within minutes of putting it all away, Delia arrived. The two women got to work, and while I made a quick protein shake so I could get out of the way, I paid attention to the way Wolseley politely but succinctly went through what they had planned for the day. I grabbed one of Wolseley’s new dark chocolate almond protein bars, hung around a bit, and watched Wolseley instruct Delia on how to make the perfect steak. Weird, since she didn’t eat them and hated even touching the meat.

“Ryan mentioned that he liked olives, so we are going to make an olive tapenade-infused butter. I’m going to make a vegan version of it as well to see how it tastes.”

I left the ladies to their work and thought about my night ahead. I was going to prove Wolseley wrong—that I wasn’t a boring stick-in-the-mud.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Wolseley

Iwas nervous about going to a drag show with Brandon. In fact, I was freaking out. The last thing I imagined was an uber-masculine hockey player wanting to go to a drag show. Add to that how Brandon rarely did anything that wasn’t perfectly planned. Part of me also thought he wouldn’t be very accepting: that he was—how did I put this delicately—only interested in his preferred lifestyle choice. But the fact that he wanted to go to a drag show threw that whole notion out the window, which came as a relief to me since Caitlyn would be attending the show with her girlfriend.

I hated that I thought he was bigoted and homophobic based on nothing other than a perception and my own bias. My whole life, I’d gone out of my way to be tolerant and to encourage others to be tolerant, and here I was making an assumption. I was the asshole. And yet I still wasn’t sure about him, so I told him about Caitlyn’s girlfriend, an accomplished violinist, on our way to the cabaret to see how he would react.

“Oh, that’s cool. With the symphony here in town?”

I suddenly felt even worse. He wasn’t a raging homophobe.

“Yes. She’s offered me tickets. I should really go.”

“I’d be happy to go with you. I’ve never been to the symphony.”

And there was the disconnect. I’d made all these assumptions because he hadn’t done much. No symphony, no drag show, no berry picking, no secondhand shops, nothing that wasn’t of the norm. That wasn’t whatmanlymen usually did. I knew he visited the children’s hospital a few times a season, and he volunteered for all sorts of causes, and that was amazing, but he didn’t live life even a little. The entire Kodiaks season, he went to the rink, worked out, slept, worked out, slept, went to the rink, worked out, and slept. Hardly exciting. The man didn’t even go to the movies!

“I can get tickets from her. She always has some,” I said, a little surprised that he’d want to sit through a symphony, but then I had seen him meditate on occasion or read a book for hours. So maybe he could sit through a symphony without getting bored. We’d once talked about meditation, and I told him all about my trip to India and the cows. All the cows wandering around. Also, the monkeys. Then I had gotten back to the retreat I’d gone to and some meditation techniques I’d learned. He seemed interested. I loved that he listened to me and all my stories and tangents.

“I googled drag shows and got a bunch of five-dollar bills,” he said. “We have to show our appreciation for the performers.”

A spontaneous giggle escaped me. “You actually went to the bank and asked for five-dollar bills?”

“How else would I get them? I got fifty of them. Is that enough?”

I hated how cute and sexy this man was. Cute because he’d gone out and gotten all these five-dollar bills—the smallest bill denomination in Canada because no one wants you handing them one- and two-dollar coins—and sexy because he had on afitted black sweater that brought out his blue eyes, and jeans that made him look delicious. Since the majority of people at a drag show tended to be women, he was going to be very popular.

“I think you’re good,” I said.

We got to the venue, and Caitlyn and Kathleen were already there. They waved us over and had thankfully saved us some seats because the place was jam-packed. Some of the guests were dressed up in outlandish party dresses, and while I’d thought about it, all my fun clothes were back in Minnesota, and I’d had no time that day to buy anything.

Brandon and I sat down as Caitlyn made all the introductions. A server was on us in seconds, and I ordered a fruity cocktail while Brandon ordered a beer. As I surveyed the crowd, I couldn’t believe how many of the women had their gaze trained on Brandon or were whispering to friends while staring at him. The man had made quite the entrance without even noticing it.

“Not a lot of men here,” Brandon said, looking around the room.

“There usually isn’t,” Caitlyn said, her blonde pixie cut perfectly done. “Maybe a third of the crowd is male on a good night.”

“Their loss,” Brandon said.

Caitlyn and Kathleen hadn’t eaten so they ordered food. Brandon—always hungry—ordered a burger and fries because he said it was his cheat day. I perused the menu, and since everyone was getting something, I ordered the vegan lettuce wraps.

Brandon jumped straight into a conversation with Kathleen about the symphony and being a violinist. The next thing I knew, they were agreeing that their jobs were similar, which made sense. They both were dedicated to their craft, practicing,working hard, and keeping their skills honed. Caitlyn and I watched them chat, enthralled with the conversation. Who would have ever compared a hockey player to a violinist?

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