Page 46 of Ice Cold Hearts
I sigh. “Only because I love you.”
She claps her hands in delight, and soon, Audrey has the entire waitstaff and me waddling around like penguins.
Not even five minutes have passed and she already has them all completely charmed. Everywhere we go, she manages to make everyone her friend.
Whenever I think I can’t possibly love her any more, she always proves me wrong.
How did I get so lucky?
Once the penguin parade is over, the original waiter comes up to me grinning from ear to ear.
“That was the most fun we’ve had at work in weeks,” he says. “If it’s okay with you, can we bring her a special treat?”
“Probably, but it will depend on what it is,” I say cautiously.
“At Friday’s game we served raspberry sorbet to the big bosses, and we have a little extra in the freezer. Could we bring her a little scoop?” he asks.
“She’d love that.” I smile. “Thank you for humoring her. It was so kind of you.”
He shrugs. “The pleasure was all mine. She reminds me of my daughter when she was that age. It was a nice little trip down memory lane for me.”
“How old is your daughter now?”
“Twelve.”
After the waitstaff leaves, I manage to make myself and Audrey a plate then settle back into our seats. It was no easy feat, either. Quite a few of the other box occupants stopped us on our way to tell her what a fabulous penguin she was.
“We should go out with you more often,” Mom teases. “You girls know how to make everything a party.”
I make a face at her, but she just laughs.
Before Mom can sass me any more, we’re all asked to rise for the National Anthem. Audrey manages to stay serious through the first verse but quickly devolves into a passionate interpretive dance in front of her seat. By the time we get to the coin toss, she’s lost interest entirely and rummages around in the bag I brought her until she finds a coloring book.
After the face off, things move so quickly I can barely track the puck as it rockets from player to player. I can already tell it’s going to be a close game. The Cold Hearts are a well-oiled machine, but the Blizzards seem to be out for blood.
“Are you blind, Stripes?” Dad roars. “That’s clearly high sticking.”
I glance over at Audrey just to make sure she wasn’t startled, but she’s got her pink cat headphones on and is completely absorbed in coloring a fairy princess.
Another knot of tension loosens from my back. I’d been so worried about how she’d react to the noise, and here she is handling it like a champion.
I smirk. “You know the ref can hear you about as well as he can when you watch at home, right, Dad?”
He shoves my shoulder playfully. “I’m a loud guy. It might happen for me. Stranger things have happened, Kiddo.”
It doesn’t take me long to get swept up in it and join in with the shouting. Near the end of the first period, I’m as loud, if not louder, than Dad, and I’m sure my face is just as blotchy as his and Mom’s. The Blizzards are playing a dirty game, and the calls are borderline ridiculous.
“Stop whiffing the biscuit! Are you fu…” —I look down at Audrey and course correct— “freaking kidding me?” I shout.
No wonder Alexei is always complaining about Fitz. How the hell is he not riding the pine yet?
I nearly jump when Audrey tugs at my pants leg. “Mama, can I have one of the biscuits?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You said something about whipped biscuits and I’m hungry. I want one, please,” she says.
I bend down to her level. “Sorry, Pumpkin, biscuit is another word for the puck they’re playing with down there. I just got really excited.”