Page 64 of Faking the Shot

“Hmm.”

Ainsley glanced at her quickly. That didn’t sound like she agreed. “He’s told me he wanted me to come.”

Diana’s lips pressed together and she faced the ice. “Look, they’re coming off again.”

Ainsley sat back in her seat. Did Diana not like her or something? She knew she couldn’t win over everybody, but it’d be good to think that one of Zac’s good friends, whom he’d mentioned several times before, liked her a little bit at least.

Diana excused herself to go talk to some others, and Ainsley talked with her dad. Then realized a few people were looking at her, which meant she needed to prep for potential photos.

She removed her cap and unwrapped the big scarf, and placed them on the tiny table between her seat and Diana’s. Then refreshed her lipstick and smoothed her hair. She had to look like Zac’s supportive girlfriend, cheering him on, ready to help convince people their fake relationship was real.

But it felt awfully real, especially when the game began, and she stood to her feet and whooped and hollered, and cheered him on. He was so exciting to watch, dynamic, weaving in and out of the opposition. They were playing San Jose, who seemed to already be recognizing that Vancouver had come to play fierce tonight.

Diana glanced at her during one of the stoppages of play. “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Hockey is such a fun game to watch.”

“I’ve always thought that.”

“How did you and Chris meet?”

Diana smiled, her face thawing some more. “I’ve always thought it would make a good story for one of your movies.”

She’d heard that a million times before, but okay.

“We knew each other in high school. I helped him with his math, so we were friends. His parents attended my church, but we didn’t really connect too much until one day when I was at a hockey game and he accidentally hit me with a puck.” Diana touched her forehead. “I still have a faint scar.”

“What happened?”

“He skated over, was so apologetic, and I told him I’d make him pay. So I married him, and I’ve made him pay ever since.”

Ainsley laughed. “That story is gold.”

Diana sipped her drink. “If you use it, let me know.”

That was exactly the kind of story the network was always looking for. Small town. Family. Misadventure. But with depth and heart. Maybe she didn’t have to veer so dramatically sideways in her acting, and could still be involved in telling real stories that would connect, yet still had heart.

“I was joking,” Diana said.

“No, you just got me thinking.”

“You could call it ‘Struck By Love’.”

Ainsley snickered. “You’ve even thought of a title?”

“I’ve had nearly two decades to think about it. It’s nice to remember the time when it was all warm fuzzies, before the real loving had to begin.”

Ainsley drew in a sharp breath, but the moment to ask what she meant was lost as Zac scored a goal.

She noticed people turn to look at her, a camera turn her way, and Benson nudged her. “Look who’s on-screen.”

She glanced at the jumbotron, saw her face there, and smiled and waved. Then resumed her seat.

And resumed her thinking on Diana’s comment before. Did she truly think that what Ainsley’s movies portrayed was only romantic warm fuzzies? To be fair, that’s what she kind of thought too, sometimes. But nobody, apart from Mack, had said that to her in a very long time.

She glanced at Diana. “Zac mentioned you and Chris go to church somewhere.”

She nodded. “Well, he goes in the offseason. It’s harder when they’re playing, of course.”