“Okay.” He continued watching the game. For someone who didn’t like hockey he seemed to be captivated by it.
She shook her phone like an Etch A Sketch. “Invite them now.”
“Okay, I will.” He took out his phone and she nodded, encouraging him. She couldn’t imagine his parents declining the invitation.
A few minutes later Cary’s phone lit up and he chuckled, sharing his screen with Tyler.
We’d love to! Mom.
Cary pointed out, “She always signs her texts with ‘Mom.’”
“That’s cute. I’ll get Vegas to add them to the guest list.”
As promised, Tyler explained the rules to Cary, and they laughed and joked like it was two weeks and four days ago.
Was she obsessing over nothing? Did he remember the kiss?
She didn’t think so.
“That’s my favorite part.” Tyler pointed to the players as they lined up to congratulate their goalie. “I like it when they rub his head. I do that with Rory.”
“Your favorite part of the game?”
She nodded. “Yeah, and I get annoyed when the telecast cuts it out. It’s like when they don’t show the ending ofSaturday Night Live. I like the hugging. It’s nice.”
“Got your text.” Vegas raised his phone. “The Kingstons are on the list.” He nodded once at Cary. “Ready to roll, man?”
Cary smiled at Tyler. “So, I’ll see you at the show?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, it’s my family’s concert.”
“What time does it start?”
She glanced at her watch. “Around eight, I think—”
“What’s around eight?” Sebastien interrupted, eyes bloodshot, clearly intoxicated.
This asshole.
She softened her voice and said, “My family’s benefit concert.”
“You guysstilldo that, huh?” Sebastien hiccupped and his turkey neck flapped, skin folding inward. “How many years now?”
She used her eyes as daggers. “Thirty, if you must know.”
“You don’t say?” He stroked his beard. “I want a list of producers for the Westgrays by the morning.”
“I sent you a list a few weeks ago.”
“Send another one.” A droplet of spit stuck to his beard and she turned up her nose. “More pucks on the net.”
I’m sending the same list and you’ll never know.
Her boss squinted, trying to focus. “We’re hitting the bar, Cary. Are you coming?”
“Big day tomorrow,” Vegas said, throwing him some rope.
“Yeah, I’m kind of beat.” Cary rubbed one eye with his fist, although he didn’t seem tired at all.
