Page 55 of Love on Ice

“Because of the photo of him kissing you?” she asks.

“Yes, but it wasn’t a romantic kiss, it was a trying to stop me shaking kiss,” I explain to her.

“Never heard of such a thing. A kiss is a kiss.” She smirks.

“Not with him.”

“I think it’s very gentlemanly of him to want to help you,” she whispers across the table. Before I have a chance to argue back, the waiter brings out the bottle of Krug and pops it for us before pouring us each a glass. “Cheers, darling,” she says, holding up her glass to me. I clink it and take a sip.

“He’s incredibly cute,” she states, grinning over the rim of her champagne glass.

“Mom!”

“What? I have eyes. I’m not dead,” she argues.

“And he’s seven years younger than me.”

“It’s not taboo nowadays.” She shrugs.

“Nothing is nor will ever happen between us. It’s one big misunderstanding,” I add.

“Never say never, sweetheart.” She grins.

“Am I that much of an embarrassment when it comes to dating that you want me to fake date a hockey player, to try to revamp my image?”

My mother’s face softens. “You’re not an embarrassment, the men you date are.”

“Mom,” I groan.

“Well, it’s true. I am also worried about you. The fact that he came to your home and screamed profanities at you. You didn’tdeserve that,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand over mine.

“I know,” I answer softly.

“You father and I wish we never introduced the two of you,” she says, shaking her head.

“You didn’t know.”

My mother takes another sip of her champagne. “Not sure what is wrong with New York men that they can’t see what an amazing catch you are. Maybe it’s time you date outside of asshole society men.” I burst out laughing because my mother hardly ever swears, it’s the Southern Belle in her. “Excuse my French, but it’s true.”

“My life is amazing, Mom, I don’t need a man to complete it.”

“I know you don’t, sweetheart, that isn’t at all what I’m implying. I just want you to be as happy as I am with your father.”

“I think what you and Dad have is pretty rare,” I tell her, taking a sip of my champagne. “I hope you are giving Sam this talk, too.”

My mother huffs. “That boy is blind to what is right in front of him,” she says, shaking her head.

“Don’t tell me you’re still waiting for Sam and Kimberly to get together?”

“I don’t understand why they aren’t dating. Anytime I see the two of them together they seem to have great chemistry.”

“They do. But they’re just friends. Plus, Sam is a perennial bachelor, he won’t give up dating younger models to settle down.”

“You might be my only hope for grandchildren.” She sighs.

“Gee, thanks. I’m not over the hill yet.”

“But I am.”

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