Chapter 19 Frozen Fruitcake #2
Isla leans closer to me. “And my advice is to think of this as a trial date. Before Evergreen Falls.”
Which brings me back to the bigger issue. “Right, but that’s what I keep coming back to. Evergreen Falls. There’s no way for you to set me up there,” I say, playing my ace finally. My get-out-of-matchmaking card.
But Isla smiles brightly. “Don’t even worry about that.”
“I wouldn’t say I was worried.”
“Oh good. Because it’ll be easy to set you up in Evergreen Falls. I’ve been working on a plan this afternoon and evening. I have some women in mind and—good news. They’re all open to coming up to Evergreen Falls to go out with you there.”
It’s like a scratch on your favorite record, slowing down The Clash into a sad, warped song.
“You’ve already planned them? The dates?” I choke out. “How? I’ll be three and a half hours away from here. It’s a small town.”
“You’re not going to the middle of nowhere.” Jason laughs.
“And you’re not exactly a hard sell,” Isla adds, the smile never leaving her face. “You’re a good-looking pro athlete, a good listener, and a dog lover.”
My lips curve in a cocky grin. She thinks I’m hot.
“And half the city is there, anyway, for the Best in Snow Winter Games,” Jason says. But my mind is on Isla’s comment, not on Evergreen Falls’ annual Christmas competition.
“Plus, I’m already going to be there, staying at my parents’ place,” Isla adds.
That’s news to me, but it’s good news. My mind races as she goes on.
“And since I know you want some practice dates, that’s no problem.
Jason and I chatted tonight and figured that’s what I’ll do if your practice date this week doesn’t work out—we can get moving right away on Saturday night in Evergreen Falls, and I’ll teach you how to date while we’re there. ”
“Literally,” Jason says with a laugh, high-fiving her.
But she’s checkmated me again. She is such an evil genius. And it only gets sexier, the way her mind works.
“With your date with the doctor this week, then a few practice dates with me to truly refine your skills, you can graduate from dating school in Evergreen Falls. You just need some time being real.”
Or…maybe a lot of time. Maybe it’ll take me a few more practice dates than expected.
Perhaps, I’ll need to fake date this crush out of my system right up until Christmas. “Works for me,” I say, smothering an evil smile as I move a game piece too.
It’s not really sabotage. I swear. It’s simply a strategy. The kind of move you’d find in a hockey playbook. Sometimes, you put the puck in motion, but it takes a while to score.
Jason rolls right on. “And as for the town PR stuff, I need you to do your best to make it look like you don’t hate Christmas, okay? The last thing we need is anyone thinking you’re less than a holly, jolly hockey player.”
“I’m so fucking jolly,” I say, then lift my glass to toast to my best friend and his sister who I’m far too obsessed with for my own good.
But maybe in Evergreen Falls, I can get her out of my system once and for all.
As long as I take my sweet time learning how to date.
It’s Thursday afternoon. We beat Seattle, and we’ve just landed back in San Francisco. I hop into my car in the players’ lot, ready to do my time with this trial date.
No idea what to expect from Doctor McGee. But all I have to do is ask questions about non-medical stuff. That ought to be easy.
Plus, she only has a thirty-minute break, according to Isla’s text. This’ll be the easiest date I’ve gone on. And I do know how to date, thank you very much.
I just don’t like, well, people.
I pull up to the hospital, snag a spot, and head inside, still in my dark gray travel suit, along with a red tie with dog illustrations on it—courtesy of Mia. I head down the stairs, decorated with gold and silver garlands, making my way to the tables in the cafeteria.
Isla sent me a picture of the doc—she has blonde hair, tattoos of cartoon characters on her arms, and freckles across her nose.
I spot the ink right away—looks like the Pink Panther and Bugs Bunny decorating her pale skin. She’s wearing scrubs, no surprise. She must recognize me too, since she looks up from her phone and gives a tentative wave.
I head over to her and say, “Doctor McGee?”
“Call me Katie,” she says, then offers a hand.
“Nice to meet you, Katie,” I say, and we shake.
“Don’t worry. I washed the blood off from earlier.”
Whoa. I wasn’t expecting that. But I do like my crime procedurals, so I’m intrigued. “Was there a lot of it?”
“So much. Everywhere.” She plucks at her scrubs. “But these are fresh scrubs. Good thing because this time of year…it gets crazy around here. So much blood. So many bodily fluids.” She winces. “Oops. I wasn’t supposed to talk about that. Let me start over. Want some coffee?”
Right. Coffee. And questions, even though I don’t want coffee now that I’m thinking about bodily fluids. But I need to practice my skills. “Let’s do it.” I nod toward the counter here in the atrium of the hospital. “I’m guessing you come here often?”
That’s a question. Points for me.
“More times than I can count,” she says, and hey, points for her. No gross medical talk this time.
There’s no line, so we march straight to the register.
“What coffee drink do you get?” I ask. See? Another question.
“Black, to keep me up.” She smiles. “How am I doing at not talking about medical stuff now?”
“Awesome,” I say, then we order and take our black coffees to a black table, sitting down in uncomfortable orange plastic chairs.
She sets down two phones on the table. “I’m on a break, but if someone comes in with an eggnog allergy, they’ll be calling me.”
“Is that a thing?” See. Another question.
“Yes, some people are allergic to eggs or alcohol.”
“And they get a reaction from drinking eggnog?”
“Or doing other things with eggnog,” she says, nonchalant as she takes a sip. “Using it in other ways. Dipping body parts in it. And putting it in places.”
I’m dying to ask what places but that might not help her cause. Also I think I know which places and parts. Best to move on. Ask a question. I’m about to inquire how long she’s been living in San Francisco when one of her phones rattles. In a flash, she answers it. “Doctor McGee.”
There’s a ten-second pause. “Be right there.”
She ends the call with a tiny frown. “I’m sorry. Let’s do this again. I have to get back to work. Stat. You wouldn’t believe where some people put candy canes. And gingerbread men. I’m not even going to tell you about the frozen fruitcake.”
She pushes back, and fuck that. She can’t leave me hanging. “Tell me about the frozen fruitcake!”
She’s heading off already, but she smacks a palm against her butt.
Holy shit.
I knew I didn’t like fruitcake for a reason.