His Game, Her Rules

by Charlene Groome

The waitress sets the drink on the table and walks away.

  “I still don’t know how long this hockey job will last.” Eileen pulls her glass in closer and holds her straw with two fingers. “Uncle Gary says that it could be three months. It all depends on how much time Ritchie needs.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Brooke asks.

  “I’m told he had some family issues to work out. Nobody’s told me the details and I didn’t want to pry.”

  “You have what it takes! Don’t let the guys get to you. If you let them see you’re bothered, they’ll discover how to push your buttons,” Kelly says, tucking her red strands behind her ear.

  “Yeah, and then it will be hard to stay focused, never mind their good looks,” Brooke adds.

  “Hmmm,” Eileen says and takes a sip from her straw. “Somebody doesn’t want me working there. I’ve had a disturbing phone call, and a threatening note left on my car after practice. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

  “That’s scary,” Brooke says, alarmed. “Did you tell anyone at the rink?”

  Eileen shakes her head. “I don’t want to come across a wimpy girl, you know?”

  “Yeah, but this is serious!” Kelly says. “You need to tell someone. How about your uncle? At least you can trust him.”

  “Then he’ll get all worried and report it. I can’t take any chances.”

  “Your safety is more important than the job,” Brooke says. Her small oval face is powdery and her hazel eyes are outlined in liner, making them appear bigger than they are. She is a petite woman with a big heart.

  “You’re right,” Eileen says, thinking what her mom would have said. “But I’m not going to let some jerk dictate my career. I’ve worked really hard to get here; I don’t want it to be over yet. I just started.”

  “I still think you should say something to your uncle, at least let him know what’s going on, or better, call the police,” Brooke says.

  “Always watch your back,” Kelly adds. “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

  “No idea. I can’t even guess.”

  The waitress comes by again. “Are you ladies ready to order?”

  “I think so,” Eileen says, looking at the menu. “I’ll have the grilled chicken salad, no croutons, and dressing on the side with lemon slices, please.”

  “Must you be so healthy?” Kelly snarls. “Go on and order a burger and fries. We won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

  Eileen smirks and hands the waitress her menu.

  “And I’ll have the rice bowl with two chilies, please,” Brooke says, looking radiant in a summer dress, her hair left down falling past her shoulders.

  “Make that two,” Kelly says and hands the waitress the menus.

  “Elle, have you made any dates with the guys yet?” Brooke asks, changing the topic to something lighter.

  “Are you kidding? No!” she says. “I’m not interested in any of them. They’re all a bunch of big egos. They only care about hockey and getting laid. I’m not into that. I have better things to do with my time.”

  “They are men.” Kelly cocks an eyebrow. “And you’re stuck with all twenty of them, lucky girl.”

  Brooke finishes her drink and pushes it aside. “I bet you’ve been hit on already.”

  Eileen fiddles with her drink, running her finger along the wet glass, watching the bubbles come to the surface.

  “You have! I knew it. Tell! I want to hear!” Brooke says, sitting up straighter.

  “It’s nothing to brag about.”

  “Come on,” Brooke encourages her, slapping her hand down on the table. “Of course it is! Tell us! We want to know.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “I heard the Warriors’ Brandon Keller is a real flirt,” Kelly says, putting down her drink.

  “How do you know?” Eileen asks.

  “One of my clients ran into him at a club, and apparently he had a swarm of women around him and went home with two of them.”

  “You can’t believe everything,” Eileen says.

  “So, what’s the story?” Brooke pushes. “Do tell!” She looks around at the full tables of people surrounding them, all in conversation. Nobody would be able to hear them, not with the background music and serving staff clanging plates and chitchatting.

  “Okay, well, one of the guys doesn’t take no for an answer. I don’t think he takes me seriously, even though I’ve told him I’m not interested. He doesn’t get it.”

  “Who is it?” Kelly asks. “Is it Brandon Keller? Mark Buckley? Although, I heard he’s married, not like that means anything these days.”

  Eileen makes a face. “No.” She shudders and then mutters his name. “Ty Caldwell.” She takes a sip of her drink trying to hide a faint grin.

  “Oh! Really? I’ve seen him in a Toyota commercial,” Brooke says with excitement.

  Kelly pipes up, “I’ve seen him in an interview once. He’s got an ego. Good player, but he’s a little high on himself.”

  “You’re not kidding,” Eileen agrees, rolling her eyes. “You should meet him in person.”

  “What’s he like?” Brooke asks.

  “A little pushy. Can’t take no for an answer.”

  “He might be good for you, Elle,” Brooke says.

  “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “You need a guy who can push you a bit, someone who can stand up to you. Ty could be the guy.” Brooke shrugs and exchanges a sly smile with Kelly.

  “I’m not that hard to be around, am I? You two put up with me.”

  “We’ve known you for a long time,” Kelly says. “Sometimes you come across a little abrasive.”

  “I do?”

  “Well, yeah, and some guys might find it . . . well . . . they might not be used to a girl who has a mind of her own,” Kelly says. “Especially one that doesn’t take crap from anyone.”

  “Funny, I’ve been told that a lot lately.”

  “It happens when you’re stressed.” Brooke sits up straighter. “Anyway, you’re not looking for serious, are you? Just a date here and there? Who knows where it will lead.”

  Eileen sips her straw and smiles at her friend. “I don’t mix pleasure with business. That’s just the way I work. Even if I did go out with him for one night, if someone found out I’d probably never live it down—and be fired, I’m sure.”

  “You don’t have to tell anyone—except for us, of course, and we wouldn’t tell a soul,” Brooke says, motioning that her lips are zipped shut.

  “Yeah,” Kelly agrees. “Our secret.”

  “Uh-huh.” Eileen pushes her lips together studying her friends’ faces.

  Brooke nods her head. “Honest! We wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t trust Ty. He probably would brag just like a rich kid with a new toy. They have to tell everyone their life stories,” she says.

  “If you tell him to keep it a secret and go out with him for one date, he might do it. It’s not going to kill you. Besides, it might help you understand the other guys on the team. You can look at it as a business dinner,” Kelly says. “Maybe he’ll even give you more respect if you talk with him one-on-one.”

  Eileen chuckles. “That’s what I need, more respect from the guys. Is that even possible?”

  “You knew you wouldn’t get much respect when you took this assignment. Face it, what guy wants a woman telling him what to do or giving instructions on how to do his job?” Kelly sips her drink. “None. Guys would rather get lost than ask a chick directions.”

  Dinner arrives and Brooke orders another martini.

  “I’ll have another drink, too,” Kelly says and then turns her attention to her friends. “Well, I think Ty is pretty cute and, if you ask me, he looks harmless.”

  “I’m not denying it. He’s a good-looking man, but that doesn’t mean he’s right for me.”

  “He would definitely be good for you. That’s what you need in a guy,” Kelly says, holding her glass up to her mouth. “Just ’cause your ex w
as a disappointment doesn’t mean all jocks are like that.”

  “You’re right. Mario was different, but I loved him,” Eileen reflects and without thinking clearly, she says, “If you want me to set you up with Ty, I can.”

  “No!” Kelly cries. “Absolutely not!”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think you should go out with him. He’s obviously interested in you.”

  “How do you know that?” Eileen asks. “You haven’t even met him.”

  “Look, any guy starving for affection from one woman is obviously interested,” Kelly explains. “He could be The One and you don’t even know it.”

  “You never know,” Brooke taunts.

  The waitress approaches the table. “Another glass?”

  “No, thank you,” Eileen answers, sliding her empty glass across the table.

  “Oh, and I’ve got some great news,” Brooke says with excitement. “I sold a purse! Actually, I sold more than one!”

  “Oh, wow! That’s great!” Kelly says, and Eileen chimes in, “Congrats!”

  “You’ve got a hit product,” Kelly adds.

  “Who bought it?” Eileen inquires.

  “A woman at my office. She was so impressed that I designed it. She said she had to see my collection, so I brought in a few of them to work for show and the women were all over them. It was insane. I sold all six purses that day.”

  “Good for you! I told you, you’re talented,” Eileen says.

  “I’ve been thinking of taking a few to some stores to see if they could sell them on commission.”

  “There’s an idea. Do you want to go shopping after this?” Kelly asks, putting down her glass.

  “Not tonight,” Brooke says. “I have to finish one of my purses that someone ordered. They’re coming by tomorrow to pick it up.”

  “Elle?”

  She swallows her bite of salad and says, “No thanks.”

  Kelly sighs. “Are you ever up for it?”

  “No. You know me. I hate shopping.”

  “I know, but how else do you buy what you wear?”

  “I order online, same brands, same stores. Less choice, less shopping.”

  Kelly shakes her head in disbelief. “I’m sure you can go one of these days.” She puts down her fork. “So, Brooke, have you decided on your business name?”

  “I thought of that last night. I was thinking of Chic Purses by Brooke.”

  “How about Brooke’s Bags?” Eileen suggests, then gives a giggle. “Simple. Clear.”

  “That sounds trendy,” Kelly agrees.

  “I don’t know if I want to use my real name.”

  “Why not? You have a great name for a label,” Eileen encourages her.

  “A product is all about branding and I want to make sure that it has the right name,” Brooke says. “It’s all about the marketing.”

  “Yes, it is,” Eileen agrees. “You should try getting into the women’s show happening this fall. You’d have to have a lot of product though; it’s a madhouse.”

  “There’s an idea,” Kelly says.

  “That would be so good for me. How many purses do you think I’d need?”

  “A couple hundred for sure. There are a lot of women there. It’s a great way to get your name out, good advertising.”

  “I’ll definitely think about it,” Brooke says. “And you should think about going on a date one of these days before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “Too late for having a variety of men at your fingertips before the job is done.”

  Chapter 6

  “Eileen!” Ty shouts as he walks down the long hallway from the dressing room door.

  She stops and turns around to face the hockey superstar. Sweat glistens from his hairline, his face moist from exercise, a pink glow radiating from his complexion. He is wearing shorts and a fitted, black Under Armour short-sleeved shirt that reveals his toned biceps.

  Eileen closes her mouth. Why is he such a distraction? Ty walks toward her assertively. “Look, did I do something to piss you off?” he asks, putting a hand on his hip.

  “No.” Although she thinks the cold shoulder she gave him during practice might be enough to bother his ego.

  “It seems that way,” he pushes.

  “I’m here to do a job. Sorry you’re taking me the wrong way. I’m professional and expect the same in return.”

  “I have a simple question,” he says.

  “And what’s that?”

  “I want to take you out to dinner.”

  Her face flushes. Did he always have to be this forward? She simply isn’t interested in his playboy behavior, even though his riveting good looks make it hard to resist the invitation.

  “Not going to happen,” she says coolly.

  “What will make you change your mind?”

  “Nothing,” she answers. Although it’s a lie. She would go out with him but not as long as she is a Warriors employee.

  He combs his fingers through his damp hair and scratches the back of his head. “You’re a tough sell.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” she assures him. A slight grin creeps to her lips and she tries hard to bring them together. The last thing Eileen wants is for Ty to think she enjoys being flirted with. “Besides, it’s not up to you how I make my decisions.”

  That ought to shut him up.

  Ty lets out a sigh. “Okay then, I have another question for you,” he says and takes another step closer.

  Eileen looks around her as though waiting for a top-secret request. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

  “Do you always play these games? I know you love a good hockey game, but how about your life? I can’t imagine it being very fun if you’re not looking for a good time.”

  Eileen shakes her head and looks away. How dare he assume that I’m lonely and afraid of getting into a relationship! Who does he think he is?

  “I’m making things easier for you,” he says in a calm voice. “Let’s have dinner tonight. Nothing serious, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

  What does he want from me? There are plenty of women who would love to go out with Ty Caldwell and would jump at the chance. Am I crazy not to?

  “I’m not afraid,” she says. “I thought I told you my reason why.”

  Ty scratches his head and wipes his eyebrow with a finger. “No, no, you didn’t,” he says. “I don’t recall.”

  “I did so!”

  “No, I believe you said you would think about it.”

  “Okay, well, I have thought about it.”

  “And?”

  “And the answer is still no,” she says, gripping her duffel bag over her shoulder.

  “No?” he asks in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, which one is it? Yes or no?” Ty says playfully.

  Does he realize how annoying he can be?

  Furious, she takes in a breath. How does he think going out with her will change how she feels? If she is reluctant to go out with him now, what would make her change her mind?

  “I told you,” she says, but she can’t help that her lips widen into a grin every time their eyes meet. Why does he appeal to her? Is it because he keeps her on her toes? Always making her guess what he’s going to say next? Besides the good looks and killer smile, is it because he knows how to get to her?

  “It sounds like you aren’t sure,” he says.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” she retorts. “You always seem to catch me at a bad time. I’ve got to get ready for work.”

  “Okay, now really, what is a good time?” he asks, placing one hand on his hip. “I don’t think there’s ever a good time, do you? You’re always running to the rink and running out to your other job.”

  “You’re right,” she says. “There really isn’t a good time. I’ve got to go home and get ready.” She turns around.

  “Wait! Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?”

  She rolls her eyes. “What for?”

/>   “Well, do you?” he asks.

  “No, I don’t,” she says without looking in her bag.

  “Let’s see your phone,” he says, motioning his fingers to give him the device.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “What are you going to do?” She eyes him skeptically and then opens her bag and pulls out her BlackBerry. She hesitates. “What do you want it for?”

  He gestures for her to bring it to him and she hands over her phone.

  He clicks at her phone and hands it back to her. “Here’s my number,” he says.

  “What for?” she asks, taking her phone back. Her hand touches his warm, moist skin. A tingle runs down her spine. “I don’t need it,” she says, trying not to laugh at his persistence and her attraction to him. This is getting ridiculous.

  “Yes, you do,” he argues. “What happens if your car breaks down and you can’t make it to practice, huh? Who are ya gonna call? Or you’re stuck home one night and want to go out, but have no one to go with? There’s gonna be a night when you’re not working and wish you had called. You’ll thank me.” He gives his head a quick shake to move the strand of hair off his temple.

  She can’t help but smile at his efforts. “You’re acting like you’re desperate for a date, you know that? And I know you’re not desperate,” she says with an honest face. “You’re far from it.”

  “Oh, yeah? What have you heard?”

  “Uh, well, that you’re no stranger to women.” Eileen clears her throat. “It’s not me you want—”

  “We would make a good couple, wouldn’t we?”

  “You think so?” Why is he putting so much work into convincing her that she needs to go out with him? Eileen doesn’t think of herself as a model beauty or the type of woman who gets her fingernails painted. She is an athlete with good posture. Her hair is usually tied back in a ponytail, and she wears little makeup except for mascara and lip gloss. Would she even fit perfectly in Ty’s arms?

  “Yeah, I really do.” He smirks.

  “That’s too bad,” she says. “If you’re waiting for me to call you, you’ll be waiting a very long time.”

  Ty lifts his chin up. “Then give me your number.”

  “I can’t do that—you’ll be phoning me asking me the same question,” she says. “Besides, I hope you don’t have bets going in the locker room because someone has just made a few bucks off of you.”