Page 19 of Slap Shot
“Noted.” I run my hands over the front of my jeans and shift on my feet. “Should I take off my shoes? Or?—”
A big dog comes charging down the hall, interrupting me. When he gets close, he puts his paws on my shoulder and licks my cheek.
“Shit. Sorry. Asparagus.” Hudson tugs on the dog’s collar and pulls him away. “No jumping.”
“Asparagus?” I smile down at the dog wagging its tail. “Do you always randomly call out vegetables?”
He hides his laugh behind a cough and scratches the dog’s head. “It’s Gus’s full name.”
I tilt my head. “Okay, but… your dog is named Asparagus?Why?”
“Why not?” He gets the dog—Gus—settled on all fours, then looks over his shoulder. “The other one is Millie. She’s older and less of a jumper. She shouldn’t accost you too much, but if she does, just rub her stomach. She loves belly scratches.”
“There are two of them? Who watches them when you’re on the road?” I ask.
“They go to daycare. If this turns out to be a good fit, I can keep them here so you can hang out with them while I’m away. They’re great company.”
“I’m not sure how that would go with my daughter. She’s six, and they’re twice the size of her.”
“Wait.” Hudson’s smile drops. The air shifts. “You have a daughter?”
I swallow and try not to panic.
I didn’t talk about her the night we met, but I expected Piper to at least mention her to him. Judging by the surprise in his voice, this is the first time he’s learning about her, and I’m afraid I’m about to lose this job before I even have a chance to prove myself.
“Yes,” I say. “Her name is Lucy.”
I miss her so much. I can’t wait to get back to Vegas and hug her. This is the longest we’ve ever been separated, and as excited as I am about this potential opportunity, I really want to be home with her.
“Lucy,” he repeats, and I like how he says her name. I almost like it as much as the way he pronounces mine,Ma-de-lynne, and he’s gotten it right every time. “Where was she when we were having dinner?”
“She’s back in Vegas with my parents. I wanted to check out the situation I might be getting myself into before I had her do cross-country travel. I barely know Piper, and I don’t know you at all. Her safety is my top priority.”
He bobs his head. “Got it. If this works out between us, will your husband make the move out here too?”
“I’m not married.”
“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
“Neither. I’m single. And divorced,” I add, wincing at the overshare.
“Okay. Uh.” Hudson rubs the back of his neck. I’ve probably made him uncomfortable. “I think we should start over.”
“This is my fault. I should’ve mentioned her before, and I feel like a horrible mother for not talking about heronceduring dinner. I didn’t know if telling you I had a daughter played a factor into your decision-making,” I blurt. “I love her very much. She’s deaf, and she’ll need to be with me some nights if I’m here late. I?—”
“Hey.” He stops me, smiling my way again, and I swear I can feel his grin everywhere. “Please don’t apologize. You’re right; we don’t know each other, and you don’t owe me any information about your personal life. When you share your daughter with me is up to you, and being a mother doesn’t disqualify you from the position. She’s welcome here, and so are you. If Gus and Millie are going to be in the way, you can put them in my bedroom. They’ll sleep for hours. We can tackle that down the road.”
“Okay.” I give him a weak smile that hardly matches his. “Should we get started with the interview and forget everything I said in the last five minutes?”
His laugh is light, some melodic burst of noise that makes the space behind my ribs ache. “I don’t know why I used the wordinterview. You’re qualified for the job and the only person I’m talking to. I thought maybe we could spend the afternoon getting to know each other. Nothing formal or anything like that. I just want to make sure we’re a good fit outside of your cooking skills.”
Hudson leads me to his kitchen, and I tell myself everything he said was genuine. I did a deep internet dive into him last night when I was in bed, after he texted me his address. I pulled up every interview, every video clip, every piece of information I could find, and they all told me the same thing: Hudson is a damn nice guy, and he wasn’t putting on an act when I first met him.
He’s not putting on an act right now either.
His digital footprint is small, and his social media presence is minimal. There aren’t any photos with women on boats in Italy. No blurry snapshots of him cradling a handle of vodka while he dodges paparazzi. The two million Instagram followers he has seem to be devoted fans, and the forty people he follows are his teammates and rescue shelters across the country.
I think I made it back eight years— before he reached today’s level of fame and success—and I still couldn’t find anything about him that put a bad taste in my mouth.
