Alex has turned around and that has made Len stop talking for some reason. Her big blue eyes bug out of her head. “You’re Alex Larue.”
“The one and only.” He smirks as he extends his hand. “And what is your name, beautiful?”
Len’s eyes fly to my face as she extends her hand. “Did you know this is Alex Larue?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Len Levitt. I volunteer here teaching kids budget and money basics,” she explains. “Are you volunteering here?”
“Yes,” he answers and I can’t see his expression but Len’s cheeks actually start to pink. “Although I had a hard time selling Ms. Bennett here on the idea.”
Len’s eyes shift to me again. “She doesn’t watch sports. She has no idea you’re a fan favorite for every team you’ve ever played for. The kids will be so psyched to meet you. Oh my God! You should come to her fund-raiser! Brie, invite him to the fund-raiser!”
She’s fangirling. Full-on. Alex glances over at me and winks. “Are you going to invite me to the fund-raiser?”
I sigh loudly. “Anyone who donates a prize gets an automatic invite. So yes, you’re invited. But it’s in the Hamptons and you’re probably busy.”
“As long as I’m not on a road trip I’ll be there,” he promises. “With bells on.”
“It’s formal, so you should probably wear more than bells,” I snark but it just deepens that grin on his face. “You might even have to buy a suit.”
“I’m a hockey player,” he reminds me. “We wear suits to every game. You know, I can get you some tickets if you ever want to check out a game yourself.”
“Like Len said, I don’t watch sports.”
Len shoots me a weird look and then steps closer to Alex. “It’s nothing personal. She barely watches anything. I’m surprised she even owns a TV. Or a house for that matter since she practically lives here. This place is her baby,” she rambles on. “In fact it’s more her baby than an actual baby would be. If she had kids they’d have to get a room here to see her, she’s here that much. Not that she would be a bad parent. She’s great. She’d be a great parent if she had a kid but she doesn’t have any and doesn’t want any—ever—so you know…anyway she’s got these kids and that’s why this place is her baby.”
“You should grab that coffee now, Len,” I blurt out before she can dig a deeper hole. Dear God, is this how most woman act around him? “And you should make it a decaf.”
“Right. Okay. Yes. Nice meeting you, Alex Larue.”
He chuckles. “You can just call me Alex. And why don’t I walk you out since I’m leaving anyway?”
“Actually, Len, I need you for a moment so stick around,” I interrupt because the absolute last thing I want in the universe right now is for Len and Alex to spend more time together while she’s become this unhinged crazy lady.
Len nods. “See you Friday. And good luck on your road trip tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” He glances back at me and nods, with the slightest trace of a smile dusting his lips. It’s a smile that saysSee, this is how a proper woman reacts to me.I return it with an eye roll.
I wait until I hear the front door close and see the top of his head pass by the window and then I unleash on Len. “Are you insane? Why are you insane? Why did you just verbally upchuck all over him? About me!”
Len shrugs sheepishly. “I don’t know you were just being so cold to him. And he’s a freaking celebrity, Brie. He’s the type of person you’ve been trying to get to volunteer here! He’s a guy who can bring us more attention and you were acting like he smelled like dog poop!”
She probably has a point but I’m still a little mortified. “‘The place is her baby. She would be a good mom but she doesn’t want babies—ever.’ What the hell was that?”
Len turns bright red and laughs nervously. “I’m sorry. I guess that was TMI, but he’s just…Did you look at him? He’s stunning. All rugged edges and rock-hard body. I mean come on…”
I can’t help but smile at her despite her insanity. “Is he good-looking? I can’t see his features. His ego is blocking my view.”
“Oh come on, he’s a millionaire athlete who has won a damn Stanley Cup. Your ego would be massive too. It’s part of his charm and that French accent is…” She fans herself. Actually fans herself.
“I don’t need him for a French accent,” I say in my heaviest French Canadian speak dropping Hs and rolling Rs. Len laughs. Then I tell her about the encounter with him and his teammate earlier at Starbucks. “Isn’t the way he seems to think he’s hot shit and that he can say whatever he wants annoying?”
“Nope. Not a bit. Because clearly he’s a good guy if he’s here, right?” Len replies. “You should ask him if we can use his name and his prize in the advertising. So many more people will buy tickets if we can say he’ll be there.”
“You think?” I sound as skeptical as I feel.
She nods so emphatically that her ringlets are flying every which way. “Ask Vic, he’ll tell you. Every hockey fan with money will be there. Alex is a darling of the league. He’s a media favorite even though he’s not a grade-A player. They love his witty banter in interviews and apparently he’s a locker room leader.”
