“I’m starting to win you over, aren’t I?”
She shook her head, refusing to give him an inch. For all she knew, he was playing her, attempting to sneak in and steal her upper hand. “I haven’t gotten much sleep the past couple of nights.”
“Sorry about that.”
She studied his face, sensing he was sincere about that apology.
“So…got a boyfriend?” he asked, repeating his question.
She shook her head, deciding the quickest way to shut this conversation down was to just answer. “No.”
“Dating anybody?”
Again, she shook her head. “I’m new to Baltimore, and my job is demanding. I’m focused on proving myself at the office, so that doesn’t leave a lot of time for a social life. I haven’t met many people outside work.”
“There are plenty of single men in the organization. Hell, you’re surrounded by a whole team of hot hockey players every day.”
McKenna huffed out a loud “ha,” followed by a “no thanks.”
Tank frowned, confused by her response.
Before he could question her, she raised a hand and lifted one finger. “I will never date a hockey player.” She added a second finger. “And I will never date someone from work.”
“Never is a long time.”
“And yet, still not long enough.” She was aware her tone had gotten way too forceful, so she turned away from him, packing up her notebook so he’d know that subject was closed. “Well, I think we’re done for the day. I want to get back to the office, make notes on what we discussed, and start building some of those posts. Then I need to grab dinner before the game.”
Tank’s face fell when she mentioned the game. “Gonna suck not being there.”
“It’s only two weeks,” she said, hoping to cheer him up.
She failed.
“Six games,” he muttered. “I’ve never missed six games in a season. Ever. Not even when I was a kid and had the chicken pox. That only took me out for four.”
McKenna didn’t know how to make him feel better, so she went for distraction instead. Picking up a copy of the publicity schedule she’d printed out for him, she pointed to it. “The day after tomorrow, we’ll meet here again and go to the VA hospital together. I’ll have some swag for you to sign and hand out. And no need to dress up. I think it would be cool if you just wanted to wear some Stingrays’ apparel.”
“Okay.” He glanced at the paper.
“I didn’t want to schedule anything right on the heels of the video, so there’s nothing public for tomorrow. I’ll stop by in the morning again and show you some of the posts I plan to create this afternoon. I’ll start scheduling them to release, one every few days to start out with, though I’ll slow that down eventually and put you back in the normal rotation with the other guys on the team.
“In the meantime, maybe you could come up with a list of other positive stuff we can include. What we’ve generated today is a good start, but I’d like to keep the posts coming out consistently for the rest of the season. So we need a lot more,” she said. “I was hoping… I would like…” She took a deep breath, recalling she was the boss right now. “Don’t leave your apartment until the VA visit. If you need food, get it delivered. I suspect the handful of reporters outside will give up sooner rather than later, especially since the temperature’s not supposed to crack the teens tomorrow. I’m not sure your scandal is big enough for anyone to risk frostbite.”
“Hope you’re right, Mouse.”
She pushed up her glasses, the damn things always sliding down her nose. “Why do you call me that?”
Tank’s grin widened as he stood. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me. The first day we met was in the hallway outside the PR department, remember?”
She nodded, because she did recall that. She remembered being blown away by Tank’s size and his charming smile, and she’d made a mental note right then and there to steer clear of the man, because she could tell he was trouble with a capital T.
“You were wearing a Mickey Mouse T-shirt,” he explained, “and you had your hair pinned up in these cute little buns on the side of your head. You reminded me of one of those Mouseketeers. You one of those big fans of Disney World or something? Because I’ve noticed you’ve got a Mickey key chain, and you seem to have more than a few Mickey Mouse T-shirts.”
While McKenna refused to admit it, now that she knew his reason for the nickname, she hated it a lot less. “Oh. The Mickey thing is my mom’s doing. Apparently when I was a one-year-old, I absolutely loved it whenever Mickey came on the television. I’d start laughing and clapping my hands. My mom started calling me Mickey after that. He and I share a lot of the same letters…M, C, K. The nickname stuck, and so did the gifts. Mom is always on the hunt for unique Mickey Mouse stuff. I own way too much of it for someone who doesn’t even particularly like Disney. I tried to put my foot down a few years ago, told her enough was enough. It didn’t work. She still gives me a new Mickey Mouse T-shirt or pajamas every year for Christmas. I guess it’s too hard for moms to break traditions like that.”
“Mickey, huh? I like it.”
McKenna pointed a finger in Tank’s face. “My mother is the only one who calls me Mickey.”
