Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my WIP (Work In Progress) Pink Pucks and Power Plays, an M/F sports romance, starring my sassy curvaceous society page reporter, Viviana Land, and defenseman for the Philadelphia Wildcats professional hockey team, Alain Lessard.
In today`s excerpt, Viviana has tracked Alain down at the Main Line mansion of Veikko Aho, the Wildcats goalie and Alain`s closest friend on the team. She is there to discuss the news that the youth hockey league plans to close down the program, since Alain left them without a coach after his departure from Green Hills.
This week our word prompt is ‘Sun’. Since this is a rough draft there may be some mistakes. I do apologize for any boo-boo you may find.
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“Did Veikko tell you why I`m . . .” I snapped my mouth shut when he showed me his back and stormed off. I hurried up the carpeted steps and followed him down a hall lined with oils by provocative newcomers to the art world. Alain sailed into a room at the end of the corridor. I entered a moment later, giving the masculine area a quick scan.
Dark paneling, heavy furniture in blues and hunter greens, trophy cases filled with golden cups and silver pucks and all sorts of memorabilia from a career that was just now in its prime, much like the goalie himself filled the study. I had to wonder what Alain`s life would be like when he was in his early thirties like Veikko was now. I`d have to keep track of him as the years moved past. But now just hearing him breathe across the room was shredding my insides into ribbons. I stared at a picture of the Philadelphia Wildcats posed like school children.
“Say what you come here to say.”
I looked away from the team win to locate Alain standing by a case of glass that held hockey sweaters from days gone by as well as old sticks.
“The youth hockey league is saying they are going to shut down the program because you left,” I told him, hoping he didn`t hear the tremor in my voice. His jagged brow climbed upward a bit. I wanted nothing more than to hold him. I dug my fingernails into my palms instead.
“That is stupid. You call them and tell them someone will be there from this team to coach for the rest of the season,” he announced.
“Why don`t you come back? The kids love you and . . .”
“I do not want to see you every day, Viviana. But, peut-etre, a self-centered woman like you can`t understand this, no?” he asked sharply. That cut went deep.
“I`ll resign,” I countered quickly. He shook his head. “Yes, it`s better that I step down than for those kids to lose you as their coach. They idolize you. The boys and girls both want to be you when they grow up. You`re kind and funny and sweet and patient and gentle yet firm. You`re the perfect man for me – I mean them. Perfect for them,” I whispered.
He stared at me for so long I had to avert my eyes. “Good then. Yes, you step down and I will come back.”
I smiled because I had won, right? Alain was coming back. The kids would learn from one of the best professional players there was, and all I had to do was turn in my beret since I had let Oscar burn the Queen Bee costume.
“Thank you. The kids will be thrilled to hear it,” I walked to the door, my eyes firmly on the curved doorknob and not the hunk of French Canadian man staring at the ceiling. It hurt terribly to know that he couldn`t bear to even look at me. “For what it`s worth, I deleted the article.”
I waited for a second or two. Maybe five or six even. Alain said nothing so I opened the door and walked through, making sure it closed soundly on him. I held myself together nicely as I walked outside to find Veikko and his guests chatting about the Wildcats` chances of winning the Stanley Cup this year. Badger and Veikko were chatting, I should clarify. Liz was staring up at Veikko as if he were a Norse god, a long shank of hair dangling from her lips and her dark eyes all but hidden behind her overgrown bangs.
Badger had decided to spend the night. I thanked him for his help and grabbed my Goth girlfriend by her skinny wrist. We both made a beeline for my Honda. Once I got the driver`s side door closed I lost it. I fell apart totally and sat there crying like a flaming jackass. Finally I had to climb out and hand the keys to Liz because there was no way I could drive.
“I hate rich people who don`t even know you`re there,” Liz kept mumbling as we drove around the fountain with care, “This night is a total FML night, you know?”
“Yeah, I do know,” I gasped, blew my nose, and then let my head thud into the side window. “Thanks for sharing this FML night with me. You`re a nice girl, even if you are spindly.” Liz made a goofy snuffling sound like Sheldon Cooper`s when he laughs.
“You`re pretty okay even if your boobs weigh more than I do,” she countered then sniffled as if she had been tearing up too.
“I hate love,” I moaned as we headed back, the sun cresting over Philadelphia.
Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
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