“I did.”
“For the Blackhawks?”
“Yes.”
“During your time there, you centered their, uh, let me see…” She browses her notes once again and then, eyes still focused downward, says, “Second line, yes?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She finally looks up and over at me. “Well, I’d say coming to Phoenix to play for the Bears has certainly turned out to be a fortuitous opportunity. Not only are you firmly entrenched on the top line, where you put up some impressive stats last season, but you’re also the captain of the team.” Flashing me another flirtatious smile, she adds, “That’s quite impressive, Lennox.”
I bow my head humbly. “Thank you,” I say. “But this is just the beginning. We want to make the playoffs this year. And hell, if we work hard and play hard, we could even be hoisting the Stanley Cup in June.”
Laughing, she says, “I can see why you’re the captain. You certainly believe in your team.”
“I do,” I state emphatically. “We’re a good, solid bunch, and I think a lot of people will see that this year.”
We talk a little bit about my personal goals for the season, which really all share the same theme—give it my all and do my very best—and then we reach the end of the interview.
The room goes quiet, and Meredith sighs heavily.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s just…” She sighs again. “Can I ask you an off-the-record question?”
I’m filled with a little trepidation but still say, “Yeah, sure.”
Meredith leans back, holding her pack of notes tightly to her, like a shield or something.
Shit, what’s her question?
How bad could it be?
At last, she says, “All this potential for success, both with the Bears and personally, yet there’s no one special in your life to share these achievements with. No wife, no serious girlfriend—so I’ve heard, anyway. Is that true, Lennox?”
Ahhh, this isherquestion, not one she’s been told to ask. She wants to know if I’m unattached. That’s why this one is “off-the-record.”
Chuckling knowingly, as I see where this is going, I say, “I have no problem answering that, Meredith.” My eyes meet hers, holding them as I go on. “I’m fully unattached, and I have to say I like it that way. I’m not into commitment in my personal life, only with hockey. Anyway, I like having options. My motto is ‘Let’s just have some fun and keep things casual.’”
Licking her lips and never looking away, she says, “Isn’t that funny? My motto is pretty much the same.”
I raise a brow. “Oh, it is, is it?”
“It definitely is,” she declares emphatically. “In fact…” She flips open her cell phone case and takes out a business card. After jotting something down on the back of it, she hands it over to me and says, “If you think of anything you’d like to add to the article, my business number is on the front. But, Lennox…” Our gazes meet once more, and this time the heat is scorching. “If you want to tell me more about your motto, and maybe even show me exactly what that means, call my personal cell number on the back.”
Fuck.
I pocket the card, thinking maybe I’ll call.
Or then again, perhaps I won’t.
Because yes, I like to have fun, but the other thing I mentioned also holds true—it’s all about having options.
And I don’t plan to change anytime soon.
“That traitorous bitch!” I exclaim as I toss my phone onto my work desk in my at-home office and let out a huge, irritated huff. “How could she do this to me? Leave me all alone in the single-woman hellscape?”
I just finished talking to my best friend and fellow real estate agent, Claire Weller, and to say she had some news would be an understatement.
