Chapter 19
Zaila
Over the next few days, as the start of the hockey season approached, Jay’s impending mascot performance became the talk of the office.
Tim had created a countdown calendar, much to Jay’s annoyance.
Then, after a long lunch with Jeff one day, Jay’s attitude had shifted.
What had started as dread morphed into determination.
I wasn’t sure what had caused the change, but it meant Jay was nicer to me, so I rolled with it.
The night of Jay’s debut as Gusher the oil derrick arrived with much fanfare on social media and local news coverage.
After some tense back-and-forth, Jay had agreed to be the one to update our social media pages with the story of his bet, loss, and resulting turn as Gusher.
Those posts generated a lot of engagement, and all signs pointed to a fun night of fan support for Jay.
The marketing department, including Noelle, had made sure to be at the arena early.
Tim and I scurried around until we found Jay in the locker room, already half-dressed in the Gusher costume.
“How’re you holding up?” Tim asked as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. Tim had become more fatherly toward me since the team-building retreat. I liked him in that role.
Jay lifted the top of the costume into place, leaving his face visible through Gusher’s open mouth. “You know what? I’m actually excited. I mean, it’s not every day you get to be a professional sports mascot, right? That’s cool to add to my resume.”
I smiled, surprised by his positive attitude. “And you’re not just a sports mascot, you’re debuting this character.”
Tim nodded. “True, true. You’re setting the tone, creating a legend.”
We chuckled, but Jay remained very serious.
“Any big plans for tonight?” I asked.
Jay’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, you’ll see. I’ve been watching a lot of mascot videos. I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve—or should I say, up my derrick?”
Tim groaned. “Don’t say that to any woman. Ever. Under any circumstances.”
I giggled. “I’m with Tim on this one, but I like the enthusiasm.” I smiled. “Good luck out there tonight. We’re rooting for you.”
By the time Tim and I made it to our seats, the arena was buzzing with energy. Tim fidgeted in his chair. “I have this weird mix of anticipation and nervousness for Jay,” he said. “And part of me wants him to fall flat because he’s been a jerk.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I feel that. I want this to go well for him, though. I mean, I know he planned for it to be me, but, mostly, I want him to succeed. That’s what’s best for the team.”
Tim nodded, his gaze glued to the doorway where Jay would emerge.
As the lights dimmed, the announcer’s voice roared through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your Texas Wildcatters!”
The team skated out onto the ice to thunderous applause. And then, with a burst of pyrotechnics, Gusher appeared at center ice.
Wow. That was cool. Jay had put a lot of effort into this introduction. I leaned forward, captivated.
“That shit.” Tim whooped. “He’s been holding out on us.”
We cheered as Jay skated around the rink with surprising grace, high-fiving fans and doing tricks with his oversized hockey stick.
The crowd ate it up. In fact, he was now receiving more applause than the players had.
Always the sportsman, Cormac Bouchard met Jay-as-Gusher center ice and high-fived him.
“We’re going to have some great content for the next couple of days,” I said with a smile.
In a flash it was time for the puck drop, and the game was fast-paced, even more exciting than I’d anticipated. I cheered as Cruz got off a great block and Stolly flashed across the ice for an easy goal. The team really clicked when Jeff wasn’t on the ice.
During breaks in play, Jay took his performance to another level. He challenged fans to dance-offs, led the crowd in cheers, and even attempted a backflip.
“Oh, I can’t look…” I peeked through my fingers.
“He made it. That absolute shit!” Tim yelled, rising to his feet to cheer. “I knew he was a diva. I knew it.”
By the third period, the Wildcatters were up a comfortable 3-0, and the second- and third-line players were gaining valuable minutes, including Jeff, who hogged the puck, created a turnover, and allowed the opposition to score.
The game ended to huge cheers for the team before the arena began chanting, “Gusher! Gusher!”
While the fans celebrated the Wildcatters’ victory, Tim and I made our way down to the locker room. I found Jay still in the Gusher costume, but with the head off, surrounded by players and staff congratulating him on his performance. He was damp with sweat, but his grin was wide.
“Jay!” I called, pushing through the crowd. Tim came with me, beaming like a proud papa. “That was incredible! Where did you learn to do all that?”
He grinned, his face flushed with exertion and excitement. “YouTube, mostly. And a lot of practice in my living room. My neighbors probably think I’m crazy. Or really into martial arts or parkour or something.”
Tim chuckled. “Well, it paid off. The fans loved you out there.”
Jay turned to me and cleared his throat. “ Zaila, I want to thank you. When I lost that bet, I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to me. But this...this was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Warmth rushed through me. This was yet another reason I loved my job—the unexpected moments of joy and growth. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said. “Because you’ve got about twenty more games.”
Jay’s eyes widened. “Oh, right? I almost forgot about that part.” He chuckled, and I hoped it was because he was excited about the next few months. “Well, if all the nights go like tonight, I’ll be the best-loved mascot in any professional sport.”
“You absolutely will,” I said. “I have no doubt.”
Jay beat me to the office the next morning, much to my surprise. He seemed stiff, but he was beaming with happiness. “Ticket sales are up, and Gusher merchandise is flying off the shelves,” he announced. “You know why? The fans can’t get enough of little old me as Gusher. I’m a marketing goldmine.”
I nodded, feeling just slightly uneasy. “That’s so cool. Congratulations.”
“You should go out with me tonight to celebrate.”
I bit my lip as I shook my head. “I can’t. I already have plans.”
Jay’s face fell. “With Gunnar?” he guessed.
I shook my head. “My mom. I told you, she’s unwell, and I’m not sure how much more time I’ll have with her.
” While true, I left off the detail that Gunnar would also be at my house tonight.
Sometimes, maintaining professionalism felt like a balance beam that grew narrower and narrower the longer I walked it.
But anyway, it was none of Jay’s business.
Later that evening, we laughed so hard at Gunnar’s story that my mother wiped her eyes with her napkin. “Oh, that poor man,” she said. “Well, not really. He got what was coming to him, but you know…”
“I do,” Gunnar said, his nod solemn.
Mom settled back in her chair as fatigue pulled at the corners of her mouth, causing her eyelids to droop. “You two should go out.”
“What? Now?” I asked. I glanced at the clock, and it was after ten. “Um, no. I’m doing the dishes and going to bed.” I elbowed Gunnar. “And my guess is you have to be up at…what? Five?”
He grimaced. “I probably should be, but I might just sleep in.”
“Until?” I asked, eyebrows up.
“Six. Maybe even six thirty,” he said.
“That’s basically noon for the formidable CEO,” I teased.
Gunnar’s lips turned up, but his eyes darkened, as if he were thinking about something. “I can’t remember the last time I woke without an alarm.”
“Then it’s been too long,” Mom said, her tone pragmatic. “But you two really should go do things. You don’t need to spend your time here with me.”
“I love spending time with you,” I said, reaching over to squeeze her hand, trying to keep Gunnar from noting the pulse pounding in my neck.
He’d been the one to suggest we eat in, with my mom.
It seemed that’s what he felt comfortable with.
If she pushed too hard, he might decide to stop seeing me.
I wanted there to be more between us, at least eventually. But I wasn’t sure what Gunnar thought, though he certainly enjoyed Susan Monroe’s company as much as I did.
“All right, then you two have fun. I’m tired.
” Mom withdrew her hand and rose. She grabbed the table and blinked a few times.
Once she was stable, she hugged me, bid Gunnar goodnight, and headed to her bedroom.
I kept my gaze on her retreating form, partially to make sure she made it to her destination, and also not wanting to face Gunnar.
“It’s a good idea,” he said after a moment. “I’ve wanted to have time alone with you but wasn’t sure how to ask.”
My heart pounded, and I kept my eyes averted as I collected the silverware and dessert plates, stacking them to carry to the sink.
“Zaila?” He trailed behind me, glasses in his hands. “What do you think?”
“I…” I want you to be proud to be seen with me. Please tell the world we’re together. I like what my parents had—an enduring love that was probably deeply passionate in the decades before I came along. I pressed my lips together to keep the words from spilling out.
“Would you go out with me?” Gunnar placed his hands on my shoulders. He kissed my temple before nuzzling closer. “Let’s do something fun—a movie. Is there anything good? I haven’t been in ages.”
“I’m sure we could find something,” I said.
“Great.” He spun me around and grinned. “Friday.”
“Friday’s the Wildcatters Gala.”
Gunnar grimaced. “Right. That’s important, and I have to go to it, though I’d much rather spend time with you.” He ran his hand through his hair, mussing the smooth styling. “I have to give a speech, then schmooze with the mayor and governor.”
I shuddered. That part of getting involved with Gunnar I wasn’t prepared to handle. “At least I’m working the event,” I said.
“We could go together, leave together,” he said, his tone hopeful.
I placed my palms on his chest. “You’ll be busy schmoozing.”
He grunted. “But you’d add vibrancy—no, joy.” He grinned. “You’d add joy to the schmoozefest. For me at least, and I’m selfish. You could tell them about the most recent book—”
I forced a laugh. “Stop. No one’s interested in my reading list.”
“You’d be surprised.” His knuckles drifted down my cheek. “I’m fascinated by the depth and breadth of your knowledge.”
When he talked like that, my defenses melted into nonexistence.
“Go with me.” He leaned closer, his gaze intent. “Be my date. Come home with me. It’ll be a late one. You won’t have to disturb your mother.”
I bit my lip. “I’ll have to get ready here, and I already asked Jay if I could arrive about eight thirty, after Mom takes her pills.”
A wrinkle formed in his brow. “But you could come home with me? We can bring breakfast or brunch here Saturday. Spend some time with your mother then.”
My heart swelled. He wants to spend time with me. “Okay. I can pack a bag—”
“Do that now so you don’t change your mind,” he said. “I’ll put it in my car, take it back to my place tonight.”
I batted my eyelashes, mainly because I wanted to keep my own expectations at the appropriate level. “Eager?”
His breath fanned over my lips as he stared into my eyes. “You have no idea.”
Gunnar didn’t lean forward to kiss me, so I didn’t push it. But I did make sure to slide my breasts across his chest as I sidled away from the sink.
By the time I returned with an overnight bag, Gunnar had loaded and started the dishwasher and wiped down the kitchen.
He took the bag from me, hooking his free arm around my waist. He brushed his lips over mine again with gentle urgency before he stepped back, hunger clear in his eyes.
“I can’t wait to see you at the Gala, Z. ”
I saw him out and then touched my lips, dazed by the potency of that brief kiss and the joy his nickname brought. It was a heady cocktail that allowed me to float up the stairs to my room. Friday couldn’t arrive soon enough.