The Summer Proposal

Chapter 1-2

What he said seemed heartfelt, but I was here to meet another man. Not to mention, I was really disappointed. I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

With a sullen face, Max nodded one last time before walking away. I didn’t have time to process everything, but I felt a strange sense of loss when I watched him walk out the door. Though as soon as he disappeared from sight, my real date was next to me.

I had to force a smile. “Sorry about that. We, um, just had some business to wrap up.”

“No problem.” He smiled. “I’m just glad that guy wasn’t hitting on you, and I didn’t have to defend your honor. He was a tank.” Real Adam sat down. “Can I order you another wine?”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

“So…I take it you’re a big Star Wars fan?”

“Hmm? Oh, because of the costume.”

Adam pointed to the bar. “And the little Yoda.”

I looked down. Max had left his Yoda figurine behind. I guess he hadn’t been lying about being a Star Wars fan, considering he carried an action figure in his pocket. At least I hoped it wasn’t just a prop he used when he told strangers tall tales at bars and lied about his name.

• • •

Real Adam talked about artificial intelligence—a lot.

I tried to get my head back in the game after the Max letdown, but I knew before my actual date and I had finished a drink at the bar that this would be our only date. Adam was a nice-enough guy; there was just no connection, physical or mental. I wasn’t into computers or Bitcoin, which seemed to be a big thing for him, and he wasn’t into any of my hobbies, such as hiking, traveling, and watching old black-and-white movies. He didn’t even enjoy going to the movies. Who doesn’t love bingeing on popcorn and a gallon of soda while watching a big screen? Not to mention, when I told him about my work, he said he was allergic to flowers.

So when the waitress came by with a dessert menu, I politely declined.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a coffee or something?” Adam asked.

I shook my head. “I have to work in the morning. Having caffeine after noon keeps me up all night. But thank you.”

He nodded, though I could tell he was disappointed.

Outside the restaurant, he offered to share a cab, but I only lived eight blocks away. So I extended my hand to set the tone for the end of the evening.

“It was very nice to meet you, Adam.”

“You, too. Maybe we can…do this again sometime?”

It was so much easier to be upfront and tell a guy there wouldn’t be a second date when he was a jerk. But I always struggled with the nice ones. I shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. Take care, Adam.”

It was late April, but the cold weather just wouldn’t relent and allow spring to start this year, and a gust of wind blew while I waited at the intersection at the corner of the restaurant. I shoved my hands into my pockets for some warmth, and inside, something pointy pricked at my fingers. I slipped it out to see what it was.

Yoda.

His plastic ears were tapered to points, and there was a tiny chip on the left one. I’d forgotten I’d stuck him in my pocket when Adam and I had moved from the bar to a table. Looking down at him, I sighed. God, why couldn’t your owner have been my actual date tonight?

It had been a very long time since a man gave me the warm fuzzies in the pit of my belly—not since the day I’d met Gabriel. So maybe finding Yoda in my pocket was a sign? The light changed, and I walked a few more blocks, lost in thought.

Did it really matter that he’d pretended to be Adam? I mean, if he was telling the truth, he only did it so I’d talk to him. Let’s face it, if he had walked over and introduced himself as Max, I wouldn’t have invited him to sit down. I would have been polite and told him I was waiting for my date, no matter how gorgeous the man was. So, I couldn’t really say I blamed him…I guess.

I stopped for another red light at the crosswalk on 29th Street, this time at the corner of 7th as I made my way down to 2nd Avenue where I lived. While I waited, I looked to my right, and the neon lights of a sign hit me. Madison Square Garden. Now that was definitely a sign—quite literally. Between Yoda and walking right past the place Fake Adam had said he’d be…perhaps it was more than that.

I checked the time on my phone. Twenty after eight. He’d said he would be there at seven thirty, but I was sure the game took a few hours. Should I?

I nibbled on my lip as the light in front of me turned green. People on both sides of me started to walk…but I just stood there, staring down at Yoda.

Screw it.

Why not?

What do I have to lose?

The worst that could happen was that our initial connection fizzled or it turned out lying was one of Fake Adam’s hobbies. Or…the spark we’d had might lead to just the distraction I was looking for. I wouldn’t know unless I tried.

For the most part, I was pretty conservative with my choices in men. And look where that had gotten me. I was a twenty-eight-year-old workaholic, going on blind dates with my mom’s friend’s relatives. So screw it—I was going.

Once I made the decision, I couldn’t wait to get there. I practically jogged to Madison Square Garden, even in my heels from work. Inside, I showed my ticket to an usher standing at the entrance to the section listed, and he showed me to my seat.

As I walked down the stadium stairs, I looked around and noticed I was pretty overdressed. Most of the people had on jerseys and jeans. There were even a few shirtless guys with their bodies painted, and here I was wearing a cream silk blouse, red pencil skirt, and my favorite Valentino pumps. At least Max had been pretty dressed up.

I hadn’t noticed the row number on the ticket before handing it over to the usher, but the seats must’ve been decent because we just kept walking down toward the ice. When we hit the very first row, the usher extended his hand. “Here you go. Seat two is the second one in.”

“Wow, first row, directly in the middle on the fifty-yard line.”

The guy smiled. “In hockey we call it center ice.”

“Oh…okay.” But the seat next to the one he’d shown me to was empty, and Max was nowhere in sight. “Did you happen to see the person sitting in the seat at the end?” I asked.

The usher shrugged. “I’m not positive, but I don’t think they’ve arrived yet. Enjoy the game, miss.”

After he walked away, I stood looking down at the two empty seats. This was one outcome I hadn’t thought about: I might get stood up. Actually, would it even be considered standing someone up if the other person didn’t know you were coming? I wasn’t sure. But I was here, so I might as well take a seat and see if Max showed. He’d said he had to work, so perhaps he was running late. Or maybe he was already here, just in the men’s room or in line for a beer.

A woman sat on the other side of me. She smiled as I settled in. “Hi. Are you here to watch Yearwood? He’s on fire tonight, already slashed two in the net. Too bad they’re probably not going to be able to hold onto him for next season.”

I shook my head. “Oh. No, I’m actually meeting someone. I’ve never been to a live hockey game before.” Just as I said it, two guys slammed into the glass wall directly in front of me. I jumped, and the woman next to me laughed as they skated away.

“That happens a lot. You’ll get used to it.” She reached out her hand. “I’m Jenna, by the way. I’m married to Tomasso.” She pointed to the rink. “Number twelve.”

“Oh, wow. I guess I’m sitting next to the right person for my first game.” I put my hand to my chest. “I’m Georgia.”

“Anything you want explained, Georgia, you just let me know.”

For the next twenty minutes, I tried to watch the game. But I kept looking around to see if Max was coming down the stairs. Unfortunately, he never did. By nine o’clock, it was pretty clear I’d wasted my time. Since I had early meetings tomorrow morning, I decided to call it a night. The game clock showed less than a minute until the end of the second period, so I figured I’d wait until then so I wouldn’t be blocking people’s views as I climbed the stairs back up to the exit. These hockey fans seemed pretty into the game.

When the clock hit nine seconds, one of the guys scored a goal, and the place went crazy again. Everyone jumped up, so I did the same, only I used it as an opportunity to slip on my jacket. I leaned to the woman next to me and yelled. “I don’t think my date’s coming, so I’m going to head out. Have a good night.”

But as I turned to leave, something caught my attention on the Jumbotron. The player who’d scored held his stick up in the air celebrating, and a bunch of the guys on his team were whacking him on the head. His helmet covered most of his face, but those eyes… I know those eyes. The player took out his mouth guard, waved it in the air, and smiled right at the camera.

Dimples.

Big ones.

My eyes went wide.

No…it couldn’t be.

I continued to stare at the screen with my mouth hanging open until the guy’s face was no longer on it.

The woman next to me finished cheering. “See? I told you he was on fire. If this is your first game, you’ve picked a good one to watch. You don’t see a lot of hat tricks in a single period. Yearwood is having his best season ever. Too bad the rest of his team isn’t.”

“Yearwood? That’s the name of the guy who just scored?”

Jenna laughed at my question. “Yup. Team captain and arguably the best player in the NHL these days. They call him Pretty Boy for obvious reasons.”

“What’s his first name?”

“Max. I figured you knew him, since those are his seats you’re sitting in.”

• • •

“Hey, Pretty Boy. Are you looking for someone?”

Max walked out of the locker room. He’d looked right and then left, but hadn’t noticed me sitting on the bench across from the entrance.

He smiled when his eyes landed on me, and his entire face lit up as he walked over. He’d known I was at the game. Right before the second period intermission, he’d skated over to where I was seated and banged on the glass. But he hadn’t known the woman sitting next to me had given me her all-access pass so I could come downstairs to the locker room and see him after the game.

“You waited…”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out Yoda, holding it up in my palm. “I had to give this back. You said you were superstitious.”

He took it from my hand and slipped it back into my jacket pocket. Then he laced his fingers with mine. “I am. I just had the best game of my career. So guess where Yoda needs to be for every game from now on?”

“Where?”

“In my girl’s coat pocket while she sits in my seat.”

“Oh, I’m your girl now, am I?”

He swung our joined hands. “Maybe not yet. But the night is young.”

“Ummm… It’s almost eleven, and I have to work in the morning.”

Max stared into my eyes. My insides did a somersault. He raised our joined hands to his lips and kissed the top of mine.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“Really?” I tilted my head. “Because for some reason, I get the feeling you usually get what you want.”

“Is that a bad thing? Maybe it’s because I’m not a man easily deterred. I don’t mind working for something.”

“Tell me, did you have to work hard for the woman you slept with a few weeks ago?”

Max chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?”

“What if I said I wouldn’t sleep with you just because you say sweet things?”

He raised a brow. “Not ever?”

I laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“That’s fine. I’m not in a rush. Will you at least have a drink with me?”

I smiled. “One. Because I do have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Deal. I’ll take whatever I can get.” He put an arm around my shoulder and started us walking. “Though I should warn you. It doesn’t matter what exit I walk out of, there are usually a few people hanging around for autographs. It feels wrong to just walk by, so it might take a while to get clear of here.”

I liked that he was the type of person to stop for his fans. “Okay.”

The minute we exited, people started screaming his name, and there were more than just a few of them. Security flanked us on both sides while he scribbled his name over and over. A few asked for selfies, and he leaned over and hammed it up for the camera. Those dimples definitely saw a lot of mileage. Some people professed their undying love, while others asked questions about the game tonight. Max took it all in stride, answering in good spirits. It took almost a half hour for the line to dwindle down. When we got to the last few people, a kid who was probably about eighteen lifted his chin to me as Max scribbled his name.

“Is she your girlfriend? She’s hot.”

Max stopped mid scrawl and leveled the kid with a warning glare. “Hey, watch it. Have some respect for women. Especially this one. She might be the future Mrs. Yearwood.” His eyes flashed to meet mine. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”