Page 20 of Lucky Puck

“Sorry, miss. None of my business.” Doc Patrick grins and pulls a few things from his bag.

The look on her face. Holy shit. I’ve seen fire-breathing dragons with less fury—okay, I mean in the movies. I can’t take my eyes off her, and somehow the steam from her heat makes its way inside my hockey pants. Since I’m wearing a cup, that kind of steam isn’t ideal. Technically.

But I don’t mind because the pounding in my head fades to the background while I wait for her to blow—I mean, for her to say something.

“I’m Bianca Brooks with the Jett Agency. Don’t even imply anything is going on between me and my client. Not even in jest. I’m a talent attorney, and I know reputation law inside and out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The doc is only half paying attention to her as he eyes my cut, scowling.

Lou is watching and shaking his head. It’s hard to say if he believes Sabien’s story or Brooks’ story.

I notice a man in an expensive dark suit slide into the room during the show—I mean discussion. The suit makes him look like he’s in the job even without the NHL patch on his pocket.

He puts a hand on Doc Patrick’s shoulder, interrupting him as if he has a right. He nods at Brooks and then me like he’s there to set things straight. More likely, he wants to take control.

“Before you start, I’d like a word with you, Doctor Patrick,” he says. “We want to make sure the cut is stitched up right so Brody doesn’t look like Frankenstein. He’s the star of the All-Star team fan celebration event tonight, and there’ll be lots of press. As a sought-after guest of honor, Brody is obligated to attend.”

“That depends—” the doctor starts.

“He’ll be well taken care of,” the NHL guy says, trying too hard to sound officious.

“That’s right,” Brooks says. “I’ll go with him and make sure he’s okay.”

“And you are?” the suit asks her.

“I’m Mr. Holden’s attorney and agent from the Jett Agency, Bianca Brooks.” The guy looks her up and down in a way that makes my blood heat up, and not in a pleasant way. I’m about to tell him to keep his eyes on her face, but she keeps her cool.

Lifting her chin, her hands on her hips, she says, “Now that you’ve checked me out, how about if you tell me who the hell you are?”

Score one for the dragon lady.

“I’m Darren Stubichuk, the Director of NHL Promotions and in charge of All-Star weekend.” He smiles like an apologetic shark.

“Congratulations,” she says.

Score one for the lady. I almost grin, but my face hurts when I try.

Funny that I felt no pain when I was kissing her…

Chapter Eleven

BIANCA

Iregret my pithy reply as Sabien cough-laughs into his hand like I’m a big joke.

I turn to Brody, and he gives me a slow-burning smile that sears me so hot I’m surprised my clothes haven’t melted off my body. I remind myself he’s just a kid as I turn away.

Stubichuk pulls Doc Patrick aside before he can reach in his bag and get started. Lou follows. Apparently, they need to have a private discussion.

Turning back to Brody, who’s grimacing like he’s in pain, I pat his back. “Take it easy, kid.”

“Kid? You’re not referring to me, are you? Because I’ve been a full-grown man for quite a few years now⁠—”

“You’re the equivalent of fresh out of diapers in my book. You’re too young to drink⁠—”

“I’m not too young to⁠—”

“Never mind,” Sabien says, shutting up his friend. I’m not sure if Sabien is an ally or an enemy with his ridiculous lie about Brody being married—to me. With a little luck, no one but Lou the trainer will ever hear that craziness, or see that stupid wedding band on Brody’s finger.