Margot stumbled into The Watering Hole moments before freezing into a human popsicle.
“Over here!” Breezy waved from the back booth that served as their unofficial meeting spot. She wasn’t alone. Her big sister, Neve, and Neve’s boyfriend, Tor Gunnar, head coach for the Hellions hockey team, were there as well.
“I didn’t know this was going to be a party.” Margot slid into the booth and removed her beanie. “What gives? First Breezy’s spending Valentine’s Day here, and now you two lovebirds?” She gave Neve a double-take, taking in the bold slash of red lipstick and daring kohl-black eyeliner.
“I had a thing tonight.” Neve shrugged under the scrutiny.
“Oh my God!” Margot clasped a hand over her mouth, realizing the date. “The burlesque show?” They’d done a four-lesson burlesque dancing class together back in November. It had been fun, but Margot had too many conflicts teaching night classes. Neve had stuck with it and the recital had been set for Valentine’s Day.
“Why didn’t you remind us?” Margot pressed. “We’d have gone and cheered you on.”
“Save your breath.” Breezy snorted. “I’ve already given her a stern lecture.”
“Sorry, not sorry. Tonight wasn’t for you guys,” Neve stated in her crisp matter-of-fact manner. “It wasn’t for anyone. Just me.”
“AlthoughIhappened to enjoy it,” Tor deadpanned before taking a sip from his pint.
“Mmm-hmm. I noticed that you kept the program open on your lap.” Neve winked at her boyfriend.
“Guys! Guys! Come on. Let me pig out on these bar peanuts without gagging,” Margot said with mock severity.
“What can I say?” Neve responded. “I love getting a rise out of my guy. Pun very much intended.”
“All right, ladies,” Tor cut through the giggling. “Not to rain on this parade, but Neve and I have dinner reservations at Julia’s in—” He checked his watch. “T-minus thirty minutes.”
“Julia’s? Look at you, Tor-nado. Pulling out the big gourmet guns. You must have moved heaven and earth to get a reservation tonight.” Margot teased. “But then, why not? There’s so much for you two to celebrate, what with the end of the lockout and everything.”
For the past four months, a lockout had halted the NHL regular season. A Titanic-sized tragedy for the city.
Neve and Tor exchanged a long look.
“Indeed. Among other things.” Neve coyly placed her hand on the table. A sapphire winked in the dim light as Breezy and Margot screamed.
“See?” Neve continued. “We aren’t alllll work and no play.”
“How? When? What! Oh my God!” Breezy blustered while Margot demanded, “Tell us everything. Leave no stone unturned. Sakes alive, I need smelling salts.”
“Today, before the recital,” Neve responded. “With the lockout over and my new position as head of Hellions Public Relations off to a great start, Tor thought we should kick off the rest of the season on the same team... in more ways than one.”
“I’m freaking out. When will you have the wedding?” Breezy squealed, clapping. Her own big day was in two months in Aspen. “I have ideas. So. Many. Ideas. You could go vintage. Or rustic. Or Jazz Age. Wait, what aboutThe Wizard of Oz. You could wear red ruby slippers and—”
“Stop right there.” Tor held up a hand while giving his new fiancée an adoring look. “Angel. I’m happy to let you handle every last detail and spare no expense. Have a yellow brick road and flying monkeys. Invite fifty bridesmaids. Hire a petting zoo. Get a skywriter. But we’re down to twenty-five minutes. I’ve booked your favorite table and have a bottle of Dom Pérignon on ice. Breezy begged us to come so let’s wrap this up and then hit the road.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be quick. I’ve... had an idea.” Breezy drummed her fingers on the table for dramatic effect. “A breakthrough idea for dealing with the Patch Donnelly situation.”
“Eeesh.” Margot wrinkled her nose. “There’s a guy whose issues have issues. I heard how he got served at his first practice back over that crazy bar brawl.”
Back in November, the Hellions goalie had almost torn off the arm of a notorious personal injury lawyer who was locally famous for his cringe-worthy commercials. No one knew what went down; simply that Patch had issued an epic beatdown.
This suit was just the latest blight in a long string of altercations that had culminated in Patch getting thrown out of the last game he’d played against the San Francisco Renegades, right before the lockout began.
Margot racked her brain but couldn’t think of a single reason why anything about Patch Donnelly could relate to her. She loved hockey—ahem, hockey players—as much as the next red-blooded woman, but she wasn’t exactly an expert on the finer points of the game. Certainly not enough to weigh in on player strategy.
Breezy shot Tor a pointed look. “He is going to be part of the starting lineup again, right?”
“I’m not prepared to comment on that.” But an uncharacteristic look of uncertainty flickered over Tor’s chiseled Scandinavian features.
“Why don’t you ask Margot to help you out.” Breezy clapped her hands. “See if she’d be willing to do you a favor, and volunteer to treat Patch to a few yoga sessions.”
