Suzy:That’s the spirit. Would you like me to send Rich or Leslie to pick you up?
Gemma:No thank you. I’ll take care of it. See you soon.
* * *
Standing safely next to her grandmother, Leslie made introductions. “Gemma, this is Derrick. Derrick, Gemma.”
Gemma extended her hand to a man who towered over her. He shook it firmly and with purpose.
“Nice to meet you, Gemma. I hear you’re just passing through the area like Ron and myself.”
“I am. I’m here for two more days before I have to leave town for Texas.” They walked over to the kitchen island, and each pulled out a barstool.
She had to hand it to the man, he knew how to dress sharply. He wore an immaculately-tailored black suit with a crisp white dress shirt and a burgundy pocket square. With such a large frame, there was no way the suit had been purchased off the rack. It had to be bespoke.
“And what’s waiting for you in Texas?” Derrick asked, appraising her with interest.
“Work.”
Suzy moved around the kitchen, pulling out a few glasses. “Our Gemma is a professional figure skater.”
“Oh, a twirl girl.” He chuckled. “Are you free tonight? Maybe you could come down to the rink and see howrealskaters skate.”
Everyone else in the room visibly tensed.
A nerve in Gemma’s face twitched. Trying to keep her voice calm, she blinked slowly and said in a flat tone, “You don’t consider figure skaters to be real skaters?”
Oblivious to his insulting words, he continued. “No. What you do is tricks and frilly spins. Real skating is stuff that requires speed, agility, strength, and solid edgework like hockey.”
“We do all of that in figure skating. How else do you think we’re able to do jumps that require throwing your body into the air and landing with a force that’s about five times our body weight?”
“Luck. If you ask me, figure skating isn’t even a real sport.”
The temperature of the room dropped ten degrees. Suzy and Mr. T watched worriedly as Gemma clenched her fists. There were so many things she wanted to say to the arrogant hockey player.
Before she could make a snarky retort however, Ron sprang out of his stool. “Derrick, have I shown you the majestic view of the lake? Why don’t you follow me outside.”
“Sure.”
The two teammates stepped through the glass door.
“Who does he think he is. Not a sport? Not a sport! I can list fifty reasons why figure skaters aremoreathletic than hockey players.” Gemma pounded her fist against the kitchen island. “Reason number one, figure skating blades have a sharp, pointy edge called a toe pick. Reason number two—”
“I won’t argue with you, Gem. Figure skating is a sport. It’s just as difficult as hockey and requires a completely different skill set.” Leslie approached her with slow and even steps. “Derrick was out of line. I’m sorry for foisting him on you. I’d heard that he was, er?.?.?. oblivious about some things when he opened his mouth, but I didn’t imagine he’d be this bad.”
“I’m sorry too, Gemma. I’d hoped Derrick might help break up the streak of bad luck you’ve had with men of late.” Suzy sighed. “Once we feed him, we’ll send him back to the hotel.”
Mr. T rubbed his hands together. “Does this mean I can show the young man how we handled those who stepped out of line in the Navy?”
Gemma’s lips curved up. Hearing Mr. T wanting to go into drill instructor mode made her feel lighter.
“Normally I’d say no, but in this case, I think asmalldose of Chief Petty Officer Tomlinson would be welcomed,” his wife said.
His eyes glowed. “You’re the best Suzy-kins.” He pecked her on the cheek.
That’s another guy to cross off my list. But maybe this morning won’t be a total waste. I’ve been wondering what Mr. T was like back in his Navy days. I guess I’ll finally get to find out.
* * *
