Page 10 of Play Book

Has he just offered to take me to bed and show me a good time?

It’s been a while since I’ve had sex.

And somehow, I know he won’t disappoint me.

“What are you doing Friday night?” I ask after taking a beat to think about it.

No-strings sex with a hunky hockey player sounds like fun.

“Picking you up at seven?”

“Make it seven-thirty.”

“Then I guess it’s a date.”

I’ve just opened the gallery the next morning when Bertie sweeps in, the scent of her perfume hitting my nostrils before I even see her.

“What did he do?” she demands as she strides up to me.

“Bertie, I’m sorry. He’s just not my type,” I say.

“I need to know what he did. How else can I fix him?”

“It’s not up to you to fix him,” I say gently. “He is who he is.”

“I promised my sister, on her deathbed, I’d help him find a wife, and I can’t do it if I don’t know what he does wrong,” she says. “Look, I knew the two of you weren’t going to work out. Don’t be ridiculous. But this was the only way for me to figure out exactly what he does wrong.”

Relief floods me, but I also feel a twinge of guilt.

How can I tell her that her dead sister’s child is an arrogant misogynist with zero redeeming qualities?

“Come on,” she says, making a hurry up motion with her hands. “Let’s hear it.”

“Well, he’s a misogynist, first and foremost. Talking about how I’d need to stop working so I can take care of him.”

“Oy.” She rolls her eyes.

“He followed me to the ladies’ room because he thought I might get lost.”

Her eyes widen.

I fill her in as best I can, hoping I won’t offend her, but she appears to be taking mental notes.

“I appreciate your honesty,” she says when I finish. “Now tell me about the young man who took you home.”

“Canyon. He plays for the Phantoms and?—”

“Canyon Marks!” She throws back her head and laughs. “Now that’s the guy for you.”

“You know him?”

“Been a season ticket holder for years,” she says. “But anyway, he was the first overall draft pick when he came into the league. Been watching him since he started playing in Toronto.”

“He’s not into relationships,” I say. “We’re just friends.”

“Please tell me you’re going to see him again.”

I grin playfully. “Well, a girl has needs, you know? And he looks like the kind of guy who’ll show me a good time.”

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