Page 9 of The Parent Playbook
“Hey!” a voice says directly in my ear so loud that I jump halfway across the lobby.
“For the love of a hot dog, Troy! Why are you sneaking up like that?”
He cocks his head to the side with a funny look on his face. “Sneaking up? You were transfixed. I walked like every other normal person here. You, however, could hardly contain your drool.”
“Drool? Please. The dude was nice, but I’ve got more important things to do than entertain silly thoughts for a coat check guy.”
“Coat check guy?”Troy looks like he swallowed a frog whole.
“I’m not judging.” I give him a light smack on the shoulder. “I’m just saying that life is rather full right now, and you know it. Aren’t the golden boys going to be taking the stage soon?”
Troy’s face looks sour, which I don’t get. Troy has known me forever, and he’s heard me say much worse about guys that had tried to chat me up in the past.
“I’m not sure we’re talking about the same guy,” he says. “But there isn’t time now anyhow. You set to smile for the cameras?”
I groan, but only loud enough for Troy to hear. “If I must.”
“And you must. Remember the kids, Angel.”
“The kids. It’s all about the kids.”
It’s all about the kids, but I catch myself scanning the crowd for the coat check dude. He left his post … or did I read him wrong and he’s actually one of the staff who mingles to offer personal support to Richie Rich guests? I might have insulted him, handing him my coat like that, but I have bigger fish to fry now. A ballroom full of journalists, a team full of so-called philandering philanthropist hockey dudes, and yours truly will have to go on stage with a show of gratitude.
The gratitude is the easy part. It’s genuine. If only I could be sure that their motives were as pure as that. Everybody knows that Troy’s brother, Zach, needed the reputation boost when he set up the team, though Troy insists there’s a lot more altruism in his brother than Zach Hart will let people see.
Troy leans in as the crowd starts to settle. A bunch of men are walking toward the stage, which must mean they are the Ice Breakers. “So where’s your coat check guy?” he whispers, but I sense something in his voice.
“Oh, whatever, forget him,” but I’m already looking to see where he might have gone, the nice smelling, down-to-earth, sparkle-in-his-eye guy who tried to tell me that not all hockey players are chumps.
There he is.
And he sees me, too. Our eyes lock and he raises an eyebrow with one awfully cheeky grin, and my stomach drops.
He puts on a Stetson and walks up the steps to the stage.
CHAPTER 4
SCOTTY
The Stetson sits a little awkwardly on my head as I climb the steps onto the stage. Something about her … the smell of apples and fresh cut grass. It’s an unlikely combination, and my curiosity is going to kill me.
Whatever this strange sensation is that I’m having for the worst hockey fan I’ve ever met, it’ll have to wait.
I’ve got to be on show with the team for our next media session, this one far more ritzy than the small affair this afternoon where the conversation kept coming around to some scandal involving Zach Hart—but I don’t have time for celebrity tomfoolery. I’ve only ever been about the game.
“And we’re up.” Zach claps Doug’s shoulder as we settle into a line, a few of us hanging at the back, myself included.
I wish I had charisma. I’m just a regular guy from a small town who had a few minutes in the limelight, but Doug is a natural. He’s got the crowd in the palm of his hand.
“Tonight is about keeping it real for the kids. Happy Horizons Ranch has a great reputation here in Maple Falls, and the whole county knows it. But we want to make sure that children all over the state can access the same right to play, to have fun, to grow up the way they should. That’s why I’m here, and that’s alot of what has brought these boys together. Ladies and gentlemen,the Ice Breakers!”
On cue, the whole team steps forward and waves. I’m at the end of the line, and very happy being here. Assisting goals was my gig, not being the voice of the team.
Doug continues, on a roll now. “Over here, folks, you’ve got your hometown hero, Dan-the-Man Roberts, number twenty-nine!” The room goes wild before Doug moves his way along the whole team.
As he wraps up his introduction of the Ice Breakers, the applause and cheers from the crowd fill the grand ballroom of the Regent’s Hotel. “And now, I’d like to invite my assistant coach, Scotty MacFarland, to say a few words.” Doug’s voice booms through the microphone, his arm sweeping in my direction.
And my stomach just flipped. He winks at me, but I’d rather spend all day cleaning dog kennels than speak to a crowd like this. I am quite literally out of my league.
