Page 39 of Her Hat Trick Daddies
“Patty cake, patty cake, baker’s man,” I sing, clapping our palms to the rhythm. She’s getting better at it every night, hertiny voice more confident, more in sync with mine. “Bake it up as fast as you can…”
“Fas’ as you can…” Luna echoes, beaming up at me.
Watching her, so full of life, so eager, steadies something inside me. This little girl deserves everything. Every chance. Every truth.
She deserves to know her fathers. And I have to be the one to give that to her.
***
The next day, I walk into my office and find a red box tied with a satin bow sitting on my desk. A small note is tucked beneath the ribbon:
Leighton,
Something to match.
– AW
I open it, and my breath catches. Inside is a stunning sapphire bracelet. My heart dips, heavy in my chest. I reach for the earrings my mom gave me. This bracelet… it matches perfectly. As much as I want to find Andy, throw my arms around him, and kiss him senseless, I can’t. Not yet. I need to stay focused.
So instead, I carve out a block on his calendar. He has a gap late in the afternoon, so I schedule our meeting there. Then Ikeep myself pointedly busy, pulling together articles from other interviews, refining notes, and building a more structured list of talking points to guide the conversation.
Truth is, before our last meeting went off the rails and veered into completely inappropriate territory, he was giving me solid content. Now, I’m going to follow up the right way.
As expected, Andy greets me with that wide, flashy grin as I step into the locker room. I’m sure he’s expecting a thank you for the bracelet, but I don’t give him that. Not yet.
“Follow me, please,” I say, gesturing with a dramatic flair. “I’d like to meet somewhere else today.”
We end up sitting in the stands, side by side, overlooking the ice. A lone goalie—not Levi, but his backup, I think—is down on the rink running drills solo. I make sure to keep a solid five feet of space between us at all times.
I can’t let what happened before happen again.
“Can you tell me about some of the challenges you face with your teammates on and off the ice, Andy?”
If he’s disappointed by the return to professionalism, he doesn’t show it. He answers my questions clearly and succinctly. When I shift gears and ask about his position more broadly, my legs crossed tightly, posture rigid enough to snap, he responds without a single term of endearment.
No “darlin’,” no flirting. Just facts.
Exactly how I planned it.
Butit’s what’s next on my agenda that sends my heart into a full-on breakaway. “Do you mind accompanying me on my next interview?”
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing in confusion. “With who?”
“David Decker.”
I catch Andy’s reaction from the corner of my eye as we leave the stands behind. He walks like he knows something’s coming—he just doesn’t know what.
“Thank you for the bracelet,” I say softly, low enough that no one else can hear. “It’s beautiful. But you didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” he cuts in, a quiet smirk tugging at his mouth. “And you’re welcome.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Just follows me the rest of the way, our footsteps echoing in the cold, cavernous stretch of the stadium.
But I can feel his eyes on me. Once. Twice. Maybe more. And each time I glance back, I catch him squinting, like he’s trying to read a secret off my skin.
But he has no idea that this is it. It’s wrong of me to hold onto this by myself any longer. This moment will change his life. All of their lives. Forever.
Maybe.
