Practice Makes Perfect

by Charlene Groome

  “Hi, Jared.” A young guy in a suit walks over, holding out his hand. “I’m Eddie. Can I help you?” He extends his other hand to indicate the direction.

  Jared shakes his hand and looks past the guy only to see Meghan standing at an employee’s desk beside an employee with her hand on her hip.

  “Meghan?” Jared asks. His throat is dry. He swallows and looks around. All eyes are still on him.

  Meghan scoots over to him. The room returns to lower voices and whispers.

  “I want to talk to you,” she says.

  He glances to her side to see a bunch of eyes fixed on him. “You do?” He rubs his prickly chin and smirks. Maybe this is a bad idea.

  “Can we go to my office? It’s next door,” she says.

  He nods slowly. “Okay.”

  “Follow me,” she says, stepping past him.

  His eyes travel from her tanned high-heel shoe to her muscular calf to the smoothness of her skirt on her backside. He can only imagine what her body looks like without the skirt and sheer blouse. Although she could keep the heels on. That’s always a turn-on. He stares at her until she walks into the next room where there is one desk, a few photos, and a stack of binders. He could lay her down right here on the desk and have his way with her. He’d love to play with her hair as he kisses her neck....

  “I’m glad you came by,” she says, waving to a chair. “Have a seat.”

  He shakes the fantasy out of his mind. “I . . . I don’t want to sit.”

  “Okay.” She leans against her desk. “What can I do for you?”

  If she only knew.

  “I’m bringing my nephew to the skate on Saturday.” He looks around at her bare walls. Jared notes the empty, cold feeling of the white walls and empty desk. “Is this really your office?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Just wondered.”

  “I’m still getting settled,” she says.

  “How long have you worked here?”

  She releases her arms to her sides and holds on to her desk, sliding her bottom back to sit. She crosses her legs at her ankles.

  He notices she isn’t wearing a ring on her left hand.

  If he can get her talking, maybe he wouldn’t have to leave so quickly. This conversation can end in a second and yet he wants to know who she is. Her eyes are bright, a little makeup, he guesses, but whatever it is, she is stunning. Her light skin tone is highlighted in pink at the apples of her cheeks and her auburn hair is pulled back into a ponytail, leaving wisps of hair shaping her oval face.

  “Almost three months.”

  “You need pictures or something,” he tells her.

  “I haven’t had time.”

  “You’re busy with events . . . what do you do?” he asks, realizing he doesn’t know what people in this department are responsible for.

  “I organize public events and schedule players to attend—”

  “That’s why you’re always e-mailing. You’re in charge of everything.”

  “Well, not everything,” she says, smiling now. “But I execute a lot.” She pauses, staring at him.

  He whistles. “Sounds serious. Execute. Killing events.”

  She sucks in her lips, but a burst of giggles comes out instead.

  “That’s what it means?” he asks, leaning against the wall so that he is looking straight at her.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t come here to see where I work,” she says, picking up her pen and tapping it on her desk. “Funny enough, I have to talk to you about something.”

  “You do?” He’s all smiles.

  “I want to make sure that we are on the same page. If you can’t make it to an event, I would appreciate an e-mail or phone call from you so I can get someone else.”

  His smile fades.

  “I’m committed to the team to make these events happen and if players don’t show up, it wouldn’t be much of an event.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She gives a shrug of her shoulder and says, “If you can’t make it, let me know. I spend a lot of time advertising who will be at an event and it seems like a waste if you don’t show up.” Her voice is sweet and light.

  “Got it.”

  “So, what can I do for you?” She’s all serious again, but her eyes look bright and happy. A good change from the women he’s used to being around.

  “The family skate. I wanted to tell you I’m bringing my nephew. That’s all,” he says, shuffling his foot.

  “Okay. You can e-mail me, you know. You don’t need to come all the way up here. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  “I figured since I was at the rink that I’d come by your office, check out the place.”

  “Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I’m not keeping track of what players are bringing who. It’s open for the players’ families. I’m just scheduling it. There will be some refreshments and snacks, that sort of thing.”

  “Thanks for doing this.” He pauses, putting his hand on his hip. “Did your boyfriend give you that foot massage?”

  Her face flushes. Her green eyes widen. “No.”

  “Too bad. You were run off your feet that day.”

  “How did you know? You were busy signing autographs.”

  “I was watching, well, kind of.” He swallows. “The crew. There’s a lot of behind-the-scenes people,” he says for a quick cover-up.

  “Wasn’t it like that in the last city you played in?”

  “Not like here. The turnout is bigger. . . .”

  “I’m surprised, but I guess Carolina doesn’t have as many hockey fans as Vancouver.”

  “They have fans . . . good fans.” He points at her and then brings his hand back to his side. “Wait . . . you knew I played in Carolina.”

  “I follow hockey.” She shrugs.

  Jared smiles. “Impressive.”

  “Not really.” She shrugs. “I work with the Warriors, I need to know what’s going on.”

  Even still, Jared is taken aback that she knew anything about him, let alone where he was traded. Didn’t she say she had only been working here for almost three months?

  “Trade deals go around in this city as breaking news,” she says with a snicker. “Plus, I used to work with guys who that’s all they talked about, trades and hockey pools.”

  Jared relaxes, enjoying the conversation. It doesn’t bother her that he’s in her space chatting about stuff that doesn’t matter?

  “And of course it’s news when you’re in the play-offs.”

  “You think we’ll make it?” he asks, throwing the question her way to see how serious she is about his sport.

  “I’m sure you’ll make it.” She gives him a seductive look that makes him imagine again just what he could do with her in his bed.

  “You have faith in us. The season has just begun,” he says, sizing her up.

  “We have a strong team,” she says, shuffling papers on her desk. “There’s no reason why we shouldn’t.”

  “I like your thinking,” he says, and means it.

  “When we’re in the play-offs, that’s when wagers start and people bet who don’t normally gamble. I suspect the same will happen here in this office.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been in this department before,” he admits.

  “Never?”

  “I’ve never had a reason.”

  “You came by to see me?”

  “I had to talk to you. Well, you probably have lots to do. I should get going.”

  “You have a game tonight,” she says.

  “I do.”

  “Do you go home and rest before?” she asks.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Not today?”

  “I will . . . I have things to do,” he stammers, thinking how interested she is.

  She is playing with her pendant, her hand at her cleavage, moving the jewel from side to side. She is such a distraction.

  “You’re busy,” he says again.

  He takes another step b
ackward. “I’ll see you at the skate.”

  “Yes and I’ll see you at the Vancouver Library for the Warriors Reading Campaign.”

  “When’s that?”

  Her shoulders sink. “Next Tuesday.” She looks down at her desk calendar and runs her finger over the dates. “Yeah, we’re promoting literacy. It’s an annual event.”

  Jared says nothing.

  “I sent the e-mail.”

  “All right then.”

  “You need to be there. People are counting on you. You did get the e-mail?”

  He nods.

  “Good. I’m starting to think you’re ignoring me.”

  “I’m not ignoring you. I apologize for not showing up yesterday—”

  “What is it? You don’t like publicity? Or are you too busy?”

  “What time’s it at?”

  “Starts at ten.”

  “Until when?”

  “Two. That’s it. It’s a short event.”

  “I’ll be there in the afternoon.”

  “Why not when it starts?”

  “I don’t like being at these things the whole time.”

  “Come on! They’re fun! You get to meet kids and talk to people. It’s all about promoting you and the team.”

  “Who else is going?”

  “Let’s see,” she says, looking down at her desk calendar. “Mostly everyone is supposed to go. You do like kids, don’t you?” She looks up over the page she is holding and sees him nod. “It’s an easy promotion. You just have to show up. The kids will be all over you.”

  “Am I supposed to bring something?” he asks.

  “No,” she says. “You just have to show up.”

  “Like the cookbook promotion?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Does anyone really care about those recipes? People don’t actually use the book, do they?” He chuckles. “That seemed like a ridiculous promotion.”

  “Not at all. It was successful,” she says.

  “Was it?”

  “Of course. Any promotional item that has the Warriors brand on it sells. I’m sure it was like that in Carolina. Only here can you sell a cookbook.”

  He shakes his head.

  “And run out of them,” she says. “I had to turn people away because we ran out of five thousand copies.”

  He scratches the hair on his jawline. “Who comes up with these ideas?”

  “Me.”

  He laughs. “Do you?” He lets out a blustery breath and walks backward until he’s at the open doorway.

  “When you show up to these events, it benefits you and the team. The public wants to see our stars as regular people doing good things.”

  “I’m here to play hockey. I don’t care about appearances.”

  “No?” She raises her chin. “Then why did you come by to see me?”

  “To tell you about the skate,” he says matter-of-fact. “I wasn’t sure if there was a requirement of how many people a player could bring.”

  “If you’re only bringing your nephew, it’s not a big deal. Some players have three kids, some are coming by themselves. It all evens out. Besides, it’s for fun. There are no rules.”

  “Great.” He walks backward out the door. “If you’re free tonight after the game, bunch of us will be at Buckley’s. If you’re up to it.”

  “Bars aren’t my thing.”

  “Oh. Okay. Me either. See you at the next event then.”

  “I’ll try and make it,” she says, playing with her necklace.

  Jared is fixated on the way her necklace dangles between her cleavage. She smiles at him and just when he thinks to leave, she says, “Thanks for stopping by to talk. I appreciate it.”

  He steps out into the hallway, turns around. She is swinging the pendant over the gold chain. He holds her stare, feeling a moment of desire he doesn’t want to let go of. Her green eyes have sucked him into wanting more of her. He can’t pass her up. He has to find a way to get Meghan to want him and then maybe his ex will come to terms with the fact that they are really over. His ex-girlfriend still thinks she has a chance with him. She keeps showing up to events and expects him to give her all of his attention. At the beginning, they hung out like couples do, except, Jared didn’t bring her to the rink or associate her with his teammates, afraid it would turn serious and he wasn’t ready for commitment. She, on the other hand, wanted more. She began to call him often and even showed up in LA when he was on a road trip. That was when he told her they needed a break. Jared didn’t hear from her for weeks. He thought he would never see her again, until he made an appearance at a Warriors event and she showed up telling him they belong together. What will it take for her to understand that there’s not going to be a second chance?

  He nods at Meghan in response. Jared gets one last look at her as he leaves. She has to be taken. Has to be, he tells himself as he saunters down the hall to the elevators.

  Chapter 6

  The Dome is closed to the public. Staff and the players are gathering around the rink. There are refreshments and snacks on oblong tables. Children are laughing, players are smiling, making the event an enjoyable place to be.

  “Can you please add more bottled water to the ice bath?” Meghan tells an employee. “And we’ll need another tray of layered dip and a bowl of chips over there.” Her eyes skim the table for anything else that might be missing.

  The food station is set up not far from the Zamboni doors. There’s room to gather, plus the entrance to the rink is wide open for people to come and go.

  “I’m here,” a voice says, catching Meghan’s attention. She makes eye contact with Jared.

  Her stomach rises and falls. “Oh, hi, Jared,” she says, smiling. She grabs hold of her bracelet and begins to twirl it around her wrist, remembering the flirting techniques. Her eyes drop to Jared’s waist where she sees a little boy standing beside him, looking up at her with the same blue eyes. His blond hair is a lighter shade and falls to his neck. “Hi there,” Meghan says, trying to guess the boy’s age. She sees a strong resemblance. The boy could pass for Jared’s son.

  “I’m going skating,” the boy tells her.

  Jared taps the boy’s shoulder. “This is my nephew, Beckham.”

  “I’m glad you could join us.” Meghan crouches down. “Did you bring your skates?”

  “Uncle Jare bought me some,” Beckham says.

  “He did? That was nice of him. You’re all set, then.” Meghan reaches over to grab a juice box. “Beckham, would you like a drink?”

  The boy takes it and says thank you.

  “You know, there are some games for kids starting in a few minutes,” Meghan says.“If you want to participate. There’s a bench over there,” she points. “If you want to put on your skates.”

  She smiles at Jared and then looks past him to see a woman with medium-length blond hair walking up to Jared. She is wearing a long coat with tiny pockets and big buttons. She has a pair of figure skates hanging over her shoulder.

  “My brother’s always looking out for him. I’m Jane,” she says, extending her hand.

  “Meghan.”

  “Meghan is the PR coordinator,” Jared says.

  The woman nods. “Where’s Becks?”

  Jared points to the bench.

  “He’d get lost in this crowd. Gave me a scare at the airport. He wandered off when I was checking in.”

  “He needs a leash,” Jared says jokingly.

  “He’ll learn,” Jane says, hearing her son call for her help to tie his skates.

  Meghan watches Jane walk away. “Your nephew is really cute. He looks a lot like you.”

  “So, you think I’m cute?” Jared teases.

  Meghan blushes. “Well—”

  “People do ask if he’s mine,” Jared says. “The Landrys have strong genes.”

  Jane returns. “He’s ready to go. So you’re the one who put this together?”

  “I had help.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  �
�Don’t be, it’s a team effort.”

  “I’m ready,” Beckham says, handing his mom his shoes.

  “You can leave them at the bench with the others,” Jared tells him.

  “Are you skating?” Meghan asks Jared.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll go grab my skates.”

  “Where is Uncle Jare going?”

  “He’ll be right back,” Jane says. “Probably going to the dressing room to get his skates.”

  “I wanna go!” the boy yells.

  “Catch up to him, then,” Jane says, watching her son walk as fast as he can in his ice skates. Beckham calls for his uncle. When Jane sees Jared stop to wait for the four-year-old, she smiles at Meghan.

  “Does your son play hockey too?” Meghan asks.

  Jane rolls her eyes. “Yes. He wants to be just like his uncle.”

  “Sweet.”

  “It’s a little much sometimes, but we know he’s proud of him. Do you have children?”

  “No,” Meghan answers. “Do you have other children?”

  “We’ve been trying for another one, but it hasn’t happened for us yet.” Jane clutches her jaw. “Aren’t you going for a skate?”

  “I didn’t bring mine,” Meghan says. “Actually, I don’t own a pair.”

  “Here, you can borrow mine,” Jane says, and she takes the skates off her shoulders.

  “No, it’s fine, thanks. I’m working.”

  “Is it hard to organize this kind of event? It seems like a lot to do with a team and staff.”

  “This one was easy. Everyone wanted to be here, it makes a difference.”

  “I guess so. I’m surprised my brother wanted to come out. He’s not really a social butterfly.”

  “I sense that,” Meghan says. “It would be great if Jared could make more appearances though. He has a lot of fans here.”

  “He does at home, too.”

  “I bet.”

  “I’ll work on him,” Jane says with a wink of her eye. “Here he comes. We better change the subject, don’t want him to think we’re talking about him. Might go straight to his head.” She smiles at her brother. “He could use a little grounding.”