Page 14 of Playmaker

“What size do you wear?”

I looked around my office, hoping no one was close enough to hear even my side of this conversation. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is if you’re my guest. Are you going to tell me your size, or do I have to guess?”

I sat up straight at my desk. “Don’t worry. I’ll find something appropriate to wear.” And then I could have smacked myself. Where would I find the time to hunt down and shop for something to wear to an exclusive country club?

“If that’s how you’re going to play it, fine. Text me your address. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Wait, what?“Seven in the morning?”

“Bring sunscreen.” He hung up.

I stared at the phone for way too long, trying to process what had just happened. I was getting at least one golf lesson at the country club. That was good. No matter what happened after, I would have some valuable information.

But I was very suspicious of what was going to happen when Mr. Cooper showed up at my place on Sunday morning.

Thank goodness I had Darcy.

Chapter5

That dress wasn’t hiding any ugly

Callie

I gaveCooper the address of a nearby coffee shop to meet at. I was still suspicious—which could be a me issue—but this whole thing was odd. Hockey superstars didn’t just offer this kind of help to random people. I wasn’t a kid with cancer, or the guy who’d worked at the arena since he was sixteen. In case something went wrong today, I didn’t want him to know where I lived.

As a manager at the movie theatre, Darcy’s shifts were variable. He’d worked closing at the theater last night, but he still got up to make sure I would pass muster. We’d looked at some golf clothing online, and I’d ordered something to wear. It arrived yesterday, while I was at work, and when I tried it on, it didn’t fit.

Clothing was a constant struggle with my figure. Too much bust, not enough of the rest. To get a top to fit around my breasts, what I’d ordered was so baggy that I looked like I’d borrowed someone else’s clothing, and the skirt was too short. So I’d scrambled in my closet to come up with something that would pass the club dress code.

Darcy frowned, but admitted it was a lot better than what I’d worn to the benefit. The skirt was long enough, even if it was a drab brown that didn’t look like anything I’d seen on the Briarwood website, and there was a collar on the white polo shirt. It was a little grayish after a lot of washes, but no one could say the outfit was too loud. I ironed the skirt and shirt, so I should be good. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, my moisturizer had SPF, and I’d packed a water bottle and more sunscreen, along with a visor and a sweater in a tote bag. Prepared for any eventuality.

To make sure I’d be ready on time, I’d set my alarm early, so I still had twenty minutes before I needed to head out to meet my golf pro.

I’d promised Darcy, again, that I’d use lots of sunscreen—I was about as pale as a human could get between freckles—when there was a knock on the door. I looked at him, in case he was expecting someone. He shrugged from where he was sprawled on the couch under a blanket and let me do the honors. Was it a neighbor complaining about something? This early?

I opened the door and froze. There was a big hockey player in the doorway, with a smirk on his face and a large shopping bag in his hand. Blond hair, blue eyes, and according to Darcy, awesome abs. None of which were supposed to be here, at my door.

“Cooper?” Had I missed something? I definitely wouldn’t have invited him to the condo. Darcy sat up on the couch, eyes big with shock.

“Yep. Step back, we have work to do.”

I did just that before I realized what I was doing, and he passed me, heading inside with a glance around. He spotted Darcy, hair disheveled, staring at Cooper like he was a ghost. A hot ghost. Darcy looked like he wasn’t sure if he should scream or drool. I was thinking instead about slapping Cooper upside the head.

But I followed Cooper like a mindless sheep till I pulled myself together.

“Hi, I’m Cooper.” He headed to Darcy as he spoke.

“I know.” Darcy’s eyes were even wider as he shook the hand Cooper held out, holding his blanket up like a blushing virgin in a Gothic horror story. Darcy was wearing a T-shirt and boxers, for fuck’s sake. What did he think Cooper was going to do?

“And you are?”

None of your business.Before I could blurt that out, Darcy responded.

“I’m Darcy. Callie’s roommate. I’m a fan.”

“Of Callie’s? Glad to hear that.” Cooper’s big smile was still on his face as he turned back to me. “Okay, Callie, let’s get moving. We’ve got a tee time to make.”

---