“You’re a reporter?”
“Mostly freelance. I pitch stories to the big pubs, and they decide if they want them or not.SIhas agreed to run my profile of your career. I’m thinking, ‘small-town boy turns big-city star.’ If you’ll return my calls, that is.”
“Why didn’t you contact my publicist?”
She shakes her head, smiling. “I’m not looking for press releases. I want the real story, things that aren’t already all over the place, straight from the horse’s mouth—or the hockey star’s.”
“I’m not sure it’s as exciting as you think it is.” I glance over at my cousins, who are watching all of this curiously.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She glances at the group as well. “Walk with me?”
My insides still, and I remember the last time an attractive woman showed up at the table saying these exact words.
I wonder if Dove’s going to reach out like she did before, like she did when we had never even shared a bed.
She doesn’t, so I do. “We can talk here. I’m with my family.”
Her eyes move around the table once more, and she holds out her phone. “Let’s share contact information. I’ll send you some dates and times to sit down and chat.”
“I don’t give out my personal information, but Haddy…” I lift my chin at my cousin.
“Here.” The woman slides her blazer back to reach into her pocket. Her shirt stretches over her ample bosom, and I turn away, my eyes going to Dove’s face.
Her eyes are on her pint glass, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. She’s definitely less playful than the last time awoman approached me this way, but she’s been distracted all week, really since we got back from the wedding.
“My credentials.” A press pass bearing the name Susan Jackson along with her ID badge for the magazine are placed in front of me. “It’s a legit offer.”
Haddy slides off her stool and walks around to where we’re standing.
“Hayden Knight.” My cousin extends her hand. “I’m the publicity director for the Champions and Maverick’s cousin, and I agree with you. His story is fascinating and worth telling. Give me your information, and I’ll be sure he sits down with you.”
Haddy’s a baller, and I want to give her a high-five. Jessica, orSusan’seyes narrow, and she glances from Haddy to me before nodding.
“Of course.” She taps her phone against Haddy’s, and I see the fluid motion of their contacts being exchanged. “I hope you will follow up this time. It would be a great story to go along with winning the Cup.”
She nods to Haddy then lifts her chin at me. “Have a nice night.”
With that she walks away, and I turn to Dove, silently exhaling. She takes a long drink of her beer, not giving anything away.
“That was new,” I say quietly.
“Was it?” Her blue eyes blink up to me then down again, and a slight smile curves her lips.
Is she mad at me? I’m ready to take her hand and go home.
“You’re a real celebrity now, Mav.” Haddy taps on the screen of her phone quickly. “Susan Jackson is one of the top sports journalists in the country. She did the profile of Wilbur Huckle last year.”
“Who is that?” Owen squints over the edge of his pint glass.
“Ahh…” Haddy continues swiping up on her phone. “Legendary shortstop for the Mets.”
“Bruh.” Akers strides up to me, grabbing both my shoulders. “Was that Jessica Rabbit?”
“Where were you when I needed you?” I push his hands off me. “You totally left me hanging.”
“Did you take her for yourself? You said she was my mistake to make.” He hooks a thumb at his chest. “Mine.”
“Yeah, I did, and you were nowhere to be found.”
