PUCK (A BAD BOY HOCKEY ROMANCE) (7 page)

My heart skips a beat. I'm actually excited just knowing he's here. I guess I missed him more than I thought. I hear him talking, but no one is answering, so I assume he's on the phone. I can't help but overhear what he's saying:

I’m only here for a few - just looking around before I leave. The set up is unbelievable
. I hear him say excitedly.

I can’t wait to see you tonight,

There’s a pause and then,
I know. Just having you there will make the night that much more special.

I don’t want to hear the rest, but I can’t help myself. I want to know who’s on the other end, although I’m pretty sure I know already.

I’m sure you will look beautiful. Just try not to be late, okay?

He laughs at whatever is said on the other end. Then,
love you too.

I’m floored.
Love?
He
loves
her? What the fuck? Really? It was barely minutes ago when I was reading his sweet note. I touch my pocket, feeling the carefully folded note, assuring myself that it really happened.

How can I be so stupid? One dinner, a few kind words, promises of change, and I’m eating out of the palm of Puck’s hand. I feel sick. I honestly believed him. I’ve been giving him the benefit of the doubt. Talking myself into thinking his ‘meeting’ with Amanda Adams was, in fact, a meeting. I’m such a fool.

I hear Puck walking in the opposite direction and breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath. I don’t want to look at him right now, and I certainly don’t want to have a conversation. I don’t know how to handle this and today, I have way more important things to think about. I stand up and stride back toward the house at a quick pace so I can hopefully avoid running into Puck on my way.

____________

B
ack in the kitchen
, things are in full swing. Luckily our space is big, but it’s time to move our operation outside. We’re still running ahead of schedule so I give everyone a warning and let them finish what they’re doing before having them regroup by the table. In the meantime, I try to compose myself and get my mind where it belongs - on the event that’s about to happen.

Steven passes quickly though the kitchen, giving a quick nod as if to say ‘hello’. He’s still on the phone and I’m sure he will be for most of the day. Moments later, he’s back and refilling his coffee cup from one of the boxes on the table. I hear him end his conversation as he adds some milk to his cup.

“How’s it going?” he addresses me, “actually don’t answer that. I’m just going to assume everything is perfect.”

“Actually, it is,” I reply happily.

“Excellent. I’ll take your word for it,” he answers, sounding exasperated.

“I won’t ask what’s going on, but if you need an extra hand, let me know,” I offer.

“Thanks, but I would rather you just focus on the food. I’m just glad Puck left, his questions were slowing me down. You would think he has no idea what’s going on, even after agreeing to every detail.”

I’m silently thankful. Knowing he is out of the house makes me feel a little more at ease.

“I guess that’s why you’re so good at what you do,” I smile.

“I guess,” Steven replies with less confidence than ever, “I just want tonight to be over so I can relax again.”

“Agreed.”

His phone rings again. Steven salutes me with his coffee cup and is off to the yard again.

I’m feeling much more secure with Puck out of the picture, at least for now. I have no desire to run into him. I wish I could avoid him the whole night. I’m not sure I can make that happen, but I’m sure going to try.

I call everyone over and we huddle around the kitchen table. I go over the plans to move outside. I explain where I want everything and we immediately get moving. We are almost completely set up by the time the next shift of help arrives. I run through the details with them and we’re up and running in no time.

We are still ahead of schedule shortly before guests are expected to arrive. I instruct everyone to take a break and relax for a few minutes. Tonight is going to be crazy and much of the menu is going to be prepared to order. We are as ready as we can be and I’m confident the guests will be pleased with what we are serving.

I leave the kitchen tent for the first time in hours and walk up to the patio. I sit down and look out over the yard. The sun will be setting soon so the staff is illuminating the chandeliers and mood lighting. I inhale and get a whiff of garlic and herbs emanating from the grill.

I wish this night wasn’t for Puck’s benefit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m going to focus on my own responsibilities. I’m going to make sure everything I’ve planned and executing is perfect. Maybe something else will come of it. Maybe I will be offered something else that will get me out of here. I’m not going to let Puck - or Amanda Adams get under my skin.

I glance around once more. The yard looks like something out of a fairytale. The savory aroma in the air smells of all my hard work. This is what I love. This is my passion. A knowing smile crosses my face. Forget Puck, this is going to be an amazing night.

DANI

I have my staff reconvene in the inside kitchen. We take a moment to revel in how clean it is. It looks like like no one has ever cooked in here - definitely not like we prepared hors d’oeuvres and dinner for over a hundred people just this morning.

I assign everyone a station and make sure they’re each clear with their duties for the night. I give them a pep talk and thank them in advance. I’ve worked with each of them in some capacity before and feel confident everything will go smoothly. I hand out some crisp, white chef coats and advise them to eat a little something and get cleaned up. We have very little time left before we need to be back outside. They answer me with ‘yes chef’, as they have all day. It gives me a sense of satisfaction to feel like I’m in charge of something after feeling so out of control in my own life.

I take my change of clothes into the guest bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and make a face. I look like I’ve been running around all day, which I have. I’m glad I brought some things to freshen up and change. I wash my face, put on some light makeup, and fix my hair. I switch my dirty chef coat and well worn chef pants for a fresh white coat and fitted black pants. I look at myself again and feel much better now. I won’t look as beautiful as the other women who will undoubtedly be dressed to the nines, but for someone working the event, I look dam good.

A picture of Amanda Adams dressed in a classy gown crosses my mind. I let the thought pass. I can’t let her take up space in my head right now. I’ve already lost Puck to her, and as far as I’m concerned, she can have him. I’m not looking for a fling, and I don’t need to try and claim a man who’s so obviously a player.

I pin my hair up and take a deep breath. I take in the last minutes of peace and quiet before the mayhem sets in. I throw my clothes in my bag and place it in a locked closet so it doesn’t impose on the immaculately clean and tidy house. I notice the valets standing out front and the first set of headlights making their way up the drive. It’s go time.

D
ANI

I
t’s
dusk when I walk outside and my eyes widen when I view the scene. The ‘tent’ doesn’t look anything like an actual tent anymore. Inside, the chandeliers are shining, casting an amber glow throughout the converted space. The delicate lighting and foliage around the perimeter makes it appear like an actual castle-like building. The band is playing some light music for the cocktail hour, setting the tone for the elegant affair. I have to remember to tell Steven what an amazing job he’s done.

With that thought, I realize I haven’t seen him or Puck since earlier this afternoon. I’m glad I haven’t run into Puck, although I’m surprised he hasn’t made an appearance yet. Maybe he’s out front greeting guests. I don’t know and I honestly don’t care. The less I see of him tonight, the better. I scan the yard once more, taking it all in, before I go in the outdoor kitchen to work for the night.

About halfway there, I begin hearing the sounds of pans and plates moving around. I pick up my pace as the adrenaline starts to kick in. I’m happy to see that the staff has begun plating the hors d’oeuvres to pass around to the guests. I call over the wait staff and go over the menu with them one last time, making sure they know what they are serving. I answer a few questions and send them off, then get to work myself.

I load up some of the silver serving platters with the first round of appetizers. I don’t want the guests waiting for food, so I’m pleased to see we have several things ready to serve before anyone enters the pavilion. I check my list and make sure everything is in the correct place one last time so we can avoid any surprises.

After the first guest arrives, a steady flow of people follows close behind. The pavilion is filling up in no time and the first round of hors d’oeuvres is already being served. I’m anxious to see what the feedback is, but I’m too busy to ask at this point.

“Hey! Dani!” I hear a familiar voice calling my name and turn around.

“Joanne,” I answer, a huge smile crossing my face.

I wipe my hands and quickly stride over and give her a warm kiss hello.

“You look so beautiful. I don’t want to hug you and ruin your dress,” I say, gesturing to my chef clothes.

“Thanks,” she replies, “even in that outfit, you still look ravishing.”

“I don’t know about that,” I laugh. I notice my father walking up behind her.

“Hey, Dad!” I exclaim, giving him a gentle kiss hello.

“Well hello, stranger,” he kids, “haven’t seen much of you since you landed this classy gig.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been a little busy,” I reply, nodding to the kitchen crew behind me.

“Very impressive,” he replies sounding genuinely proud as he looks around, “I’m glad you finally work for someone who allows us the opportunity to see you in action,” he says with a wink.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I address them both.

“And on time at that,” my father jokes, shooting a glance at Joanne.

“I promised Puck I wouldn’t be late,” she answers.

“Sadly, I have to get back to work,” I tell them, looking back at the kitchen, “come back later and let me know what you think.”

“Of course. I’m sure everything will be outstanding,” my father assures me, “shall we?” he turns to Joanne and holds his elbow out.

She links her arm in his. I smile at how happy they are together. Joanne gives me a reassuring look and they walk off to the pavilion.

We are all working in a nice groove, and time seems to be moving fast. I hear the band playing some dancing music as the salads for the first course are plated and dressed. We are already working on the entrees while the salads are being delivered. The second course is a warm pasta salad that is easily spooned into bowls and ready to pass out while we continue with the intricate main course.

Our tent is extremely hot with all of the equipment running. As soon as the last of the entrees is ready to go, we all breathe a sigh of relief and high five each other. We still have the dessert course, but that’s nothing compared to what we just completed.

I step outside the kitchen to cool off and get some fresh air. The band has reverted back to softer tones, so the guests can enjoy their meal. The sound of silverware and plates gives me a sense of accomplishment. I hope to hear some good feedback soon - or any for that matter. I put my heart and soul into this menu, just as Puck put his into this cause.

I hear some announcements being made, and then some clapping. I know there is someone being honored, although I can’t remember who. I peek back in the kitchen and see my staff expertly preparing the desserts, so I continue back outside to get a better idea of what’s going on inside the party.

There is another round of applause, and then I recognize Puck’s voice over the microphone. He begins by thanking everyone and congratulating the guest of honor. He then goes into a speech about how important this night is for him and his charity. I wish he would explain why he feels so attached to the cause of helping abused children. There may be no personal reason, but other than hockey, I’ve never known him to be this passionate about anything else.

“Dani?”

I’m startled when I hear my name. I was listening intently and thought I was alone. I turn and there is a handsome man, around my age, that looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t recall who he is.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the man says, taking a step closer. “By the way you’re looking at me, I’m guessing you don’t remember me,” he says with a warm smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” I answer, feeling foolish.

“Peter. Peter Simms,” he offers his hand to me to shake.

“Oh my God! Peter!” I exclaim, suddenly remembering him from high school, “you look so different.”

Peter was one of Puck’s very good friends. When we were younger, he was so awkward looking. He had a long, lanky body, braces, and long, shaggy hair. The man standing in front of me is the cliché - tall, dark, and handsome. He has a muscular build, bright green eyes, and black hair combed neatly back. He actually looks really hot. Nothing like the Peter I remember.

He straightens up, “yes. My mother says ‘I grew into myself’.”

You sure have.
I chuckle politely, “what are you doing here?” I ask awkwardly. Obviously he’s here because of Puck.

“It’s one of the few times a year I get to see Puck,” he replies without making me feel stupid for asking.

“That’s great you guys still keep in touch.”

“Yes. Between his schedule and mine, it can be hard, but we try to get together a couple of times a year,” he informs me, “and I make him get me tickets to his games sometimes.”

Peter finishes his statement with a smirk and takes a sip of his cocktail.

“What do you do that keeps you so busy?” I ask, an unexpected flirtatious tone in my voice.

“I work in finance. I have to travel a lot which is nice, but can also be exhausting and hard to maintain a social life,” he replies, flashing a bright smile at me.

I think he might be hinting that he’s single, but he may also just be making conversation.

“God, Dani, you’re even more gorgeous than you were in high school. How is that possible?” Peter complements me, “and the food? Incredible.”

I blush. Maybe he
is
hitting on me.

“Thanks,” I reply, feeling shy suddenly, “I don’t recall you thinking much of me back then. I think you guys used to just make fun of me.”

“Pretty sure we all thought you were hot, but we were a bunch of pricks,” he laughs, “typical teenage boys.”

“Yeah, good times,” I reply sarcastically.

“At least we all grew up. Shit, look around,” he says, gesturing at the gala going on behind him, “I think after everything happened, Puck really got his shit together.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I say curiously.

“I’m sure you heard about it, maybe you forgot that too,” Peter kids, then more seriously, “you know, with the hazing.”

“The hazing? I’m confused.”

“I hope I’m not letting you in on a secret, but I guess since that’s one of the reasons we’re all here, it’s not really confidential.”

“I’m sure I heard something at some point,” I lie, “but I’m not really sure what you’re talking about.”

I know I should be getting back to the kitchen, but Peter has my attention. I want to know what happened. I look up at him, waiting for the story.

“When Puck went off to play hockey, he was the new guy. He wasn’t popular like he was in town. There weren’t any girls at the prep school either, so he really had to work to make friends,” Peter sips his drink before continuing, “he did what he could to fit in, including bullying this poor kid, Kyle.”

None of this is ringing a bell. I don’t know if I was never told or I hated Puck so much at that point, that I just didn’t care to listen.

“Kyle did nothing wrong, other than being emotionally weak and getting a scholarship to the school. The guys Puck got in with ridiculed this kid every day - tortured him really,” Peter explains, “one day, I guess Kyle had had enough, or he grew some balls, I don’t know,” he sips his drink again, “he talks back to one of the bigger guys and tries to punch him. He still must have been scared though, because he missed.”

I’m entranced by what I’m hearing. I knew Puck was an asshole, but this is worse than anything he ever did when I was around.

“So the group of boys starts beating the shit out of this kid. Like, bad,” he looks at me with sad eyes, like he doesn’t want to tell me just how bad, “Puck grabbed one of their hockey sticks,” I wince, not really wanting to hear what happens next, but Peter keeps going, “and started wailing on the guys, protecting Kyle. From what he told me, he was yelling like a barbarian and swinging the stick like a crazy person. Something in him just snapped that day.”

I’m in awe. How could no one have told me all of this?

Peter continues, “Puck decided to be a man that day, and never looked back. Maybe beating kids with a hockey stick wasn’t the best decision, but it worked. He became friendly with Kyle, and learned that he was so upset about the constant bullying, that he had attempted suicide. Kyle was also abused by his own father from an early age, which is probably how he became an easy target. After Puck learned all of this, and the potential consequence of his actions, something changed in him,” he says with a sense of pride in his friend.

“Holy shit,” is all I can come up with.

“Yeah. Holy shit,” Peter says, “he really grew up. A couple of the other guys got thrown out of the academy. Puck should have been too, but the other guys stuck up for him to protect themselves, I guess, and it was chalked up to self defense. As you of course know, Puck went on to become a professional and use his money and influence to help other kids who might be like Kyle. I think knowing that Kyle almost killed himself really affected Puck. He changed so much - confessed a lot of his sins and regrets - even admitted that you and him never hooked up, which he really had no reason to do,” he informs me, “but I know you’re still off limits,” he adds trying to lighten the mood.

I’m floored. Puck redeemed my honor - and for no other reason than to clear his conscience so he could move on. He never told me any of this. None of it. He easily could have told me the other night when we spoke about our past that he cleared my name, but he didn’t. I guess it doesn’t matter. It wouldn't change anything that happened and I don’t know how I would have felt about it anyway.

“I see dessert coming,” Peter says, breaking my chain of thought, “don’t want to miss anything coming from
your
kitchen.”

He hugs me, “I hope I didn’t just expose a family secret,” he says as we embrace, “The booze can give me loose lips,” Peter shakes the ice in his empty glass, “maybe keep that story to yourself for a while.”

“Of course,” I reply, “it was so nice to see you again, Peter.”

“Yes, nice to see you too.”

Peter walks back into the party and I silently remain in my place and replay everything he just told me in my head. I knew Puck changed, but now I know why. I’m finding it hard to hate him again. He really is a good guy - even if he would suck as a boyfriend.

I begin to make my way back to the kitchen and catch a glimpse of Puck through one of the windows. It’s the first time I’ve seen him tonight. He’s standing near a table talking to some of the guests who appear to be laughing.

Even from this distance, I can tell how handsome he looks. He’s wearing a dark suit and white shirt that is fitted close enough to see the muscles in his chest and torso. His tie is teal in support of the cause, who’s iconic symbol is also teal. I think I’m staring unnoticed until I see Amanda’s face. She sidles up next to Puck and joins in the laughter.

Amanda looks stunning - of course. She’s wearing a tight fitting black gown. The front is low cut and the back, even lower, hanging at the base of her lower back. With her hair in a loose bun, she exudes an heir of pure class. I swear she’s looking at me, but I’m not sure if she can actually see me out here. I roll my eyes in disgust and walk the short distance to the kitchen. __________

B
ack in the kitchen
, the desserts are already complete and being picked up and delivered to the tables. I’m thankful I hired such a capable crew - especially since I was able to disappear without any problems for longer than I expected. No one seemed to notice my absence, and I immediately get to work pulling the chocolate cups from the freezer so the bar staff can fill them with cordials that are being served with the desserts. Other than clean up, this is the last of the menu items for the night.

I catch a glimpse of a perfectly manicured hand picking up one of the cups from my tray. I look up and Amanda is standing in front of me, now twirling the cup in between her fingers and examining it.

“Those will be liquor filled if you want to wait a few minutes,” I suggest, trying to be nice. I don’t know what her agenda is, but I immediately have my guard up.

“Oh, no, hon,” she smirks, “I wouldn’t look like this if I ate this kind of garbage,” she comments, indicating her own figure, “I’m sure it’s delicious, hon, just not for me.”