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She quirks a brow. “So you’ve stalked him before?”
“I don’t have to; we’re friends on Facebook so I get to see every photo he’s tagged in.”
Noel runs out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward her room, and returns with her laptop a few seconds later. She grabs my arm and drags me to the couch where we plop down.
I shake my head as I watch her type Weston Kershaw into the search bar. The first photo that pops up is one from his photoshoot with Sportsnet. He’s shirtless and sitting on a Zamboni. His chest and arms are oiled up, showing off his chiseled body and his hair is tousled to perfection.
“Wow, he’s a beautiful male specimen, huh?”
I lean forward and tap on the next photo, which is of West and a gorgeous woman. “A beautiful male specimen who has an unending conveyor belt of leggy models to date.”
We spend the rest of the evening looking through photos of him, trying to find unflattering ones. There aren’t any.
CHAPTER FOUR
MELANIE
The rest of the week has gone by much faster than I wanted it to. It’s now the day of dread: Friday.
Noel’s pep talk has completely worn off, and I’ve dealt with a headache and a queasy stomach off and on all day.
This morning, Madden even asked if I was feeling alright. He said I looked tired. Just what every woman loves to hear. I briefly considered feigning illness to get out of going tonight, but being dishonest just doesn’t sit right with me.
A little after five p.m., Odette walks into the office. Despite it being a fairly warm October day, she’s wearing a red Eagles jersey and matching knit hat complete with a pom-pom on top. She’s grinning so big her cheeks are pushing her glasses up. I can’t help but smile at her excitement. I supposed I’d be pretty thrilled too if this was my first NHL game.
Madden must’ve heard his wife come in and opens his office door. He chuckles as he takes in her ensemble. “Well, look at my sporty little wife. I could get used to this.”
She blushes and hands him a jersey she has draped over her arm. “Here’s yours. Go ahead and get changed.” He kisses her cheek before grabbing the jersey and ducking back into his office.
Odette glances over at me. “Melanie, did you bring a change of clothes?”
I look down at my black trousers, leather flats, and pink blouse. “I’ll be fine. I packed a coat to bring with me.”
Madden comes out of his office looking very pleased with himself. All he’s done is remove his suit jacket and replace it with a jersey; his collared shirt and tie are peeking out slightly above the jersey collar. I stifle a giggle as he walks toward his wife.
That’s when I notice the name on the back of his Eagles jersey. Kershaw, with West’s number, twenty-two, emblazoned on the shoulders. Madden hugs his wife and I see her jersey matches his.
I swear under my breath and have to grind my teeth together to keep myself from bringing my palm up to smack myself in the forehead. If we end up on the Jumbotron tonight, I swear I will die of embarrassment on the spot.
Madden and Odette turn to me, and Madden rubs his palms together. “Alright, who’s ready for pizza?”
I gulp and try my best to smile.
* * *
Eating pizza was a horrible idea. I should’ve gotten a grilled chicken salad with oil and vinegar dressing to offset my nerves. My nerves are currently at the level of Elizabeth’s mother in the movie Pride and Prejudice.
We’re entering the arena and my brain feels fuzzy with anxiety. The crowds of people aren’t helping either.
I tried to be present in the conversation during dinner, but I can hardly recall what we even talked about. Madden and Odette are blissfully unaware of my near-panic attack, holding hands and grinning. We walk toward the steps and I expect them to take the stairs going up, where the box seats would be. But to my horror, they start going down instead. I take a deep breath, reminding myself they’ve never been to a game and probably don’t know how to find their seats.
“Hey,” I call to Madden. “Do you need help finding our seats?”
He glances back at me, a look of confusion passing over his face. “I don’t think so, this should be the right way.” He turns and continues walking.
We keep walking down closer and closer to the ice, and with every step, my body becomes more numb. We don’t stop until we’re all the way down near the front row, right in front of the plexiglass.
“Here we are!” Madden announces.
