PUCK (A BAD BOY HOCKEY ROMANCE)

by Marx, Jessica

  “I’m sorry, hon, I’m looking for Mr. Tanner - Puck,” she explains further, assuming I don’t know Puck’s real name which makes me like her even less.

  “Yes. I know who you are referring to. I’m just not used to Puck being called ‘Preston’,” I reply coldly.

  She sniggers, “I’m sure. Not many people are. I don’t do nicknames, it’s kind of childish.”

  Every time this woman opens her mouth, I like her less.

  “You must be the new cook Puck hired. I heard a lot about you, Danielle, is it?” she asks.

  I sense a snide tone but I can’t tell if it’s directed at me or just her natural demeanor.

  “It’s ‘Dani’. I’m Puck’s chef,” I emphasize the word so she knows I caught her attempt to belittle me since I’m pretty sure that’s what she is trying to do, “Can I help you?”

  “Sure, hon, I’m Amanda Adams, I work for the PR firm that represents Preston.”

  “Right,” I answer, “he’s not here right now. Was he expecting you?” I need to know how well she and Puck know each other.

  “No, he’s not. I need to go over a couple of things with him so I figured I would pop in,” she replies arrogantly, “he usually doesn’t mind when I come by unannounced.”

  She is clearly hinting that she is here for more than a business meeting. I should know - I had one with Puck last night. The euphoric feeling I’ve been enjoying all morning disappears. I’ve been played. It didn’t take much for Puck to convince me I was the only one for him. Now, not even twelve hours later, here comes another woman who obviously knows Puck very well. Their relationship is beyond professional and she is not trying to hide it.

  “Well, Ms. Adams, he’s not here now. I can let him know you stopped by,” I reply.

  I don’t offer her the option of waiting around for Puck. I want her to get out of my kitchen as soon as possible. Every second she stands here, I feel my blood pressure rising.

  “That’s okay, hon,” she smirks.

  Call me ‘hon’ one more time, bitch, I dare you.

  I can’t believe how territorial I feel at the moment. One night with Puck and I’m trying to claim him as mine. Apparently I made a mistake, but I still need this woman to leave.

  “I’ll let him know myself. I have his number.”

  Of course you do.

  “How are things coming along for the fundraiser?” Amanda asks, trying to make conversation.

  “Everything seems to be going very well,” I answer shortly.

  “That’s great to hear. This is a huge event and I know Preston expects everything to be perfect,” Amanda explains, “I know you’re new, but I’m sure you’ve gathered how important this night is to him, and how it effects his reputation, which makes it just as important to me and my firm.”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve known Puck for a long time,” I say, asserting my place in his life, even though I’m not sure what that is right now, “I understand the importance of this night and the impact on his ‘reputation’ and I plan on doing everything I can to exceed expectations.”

  I can’t hide the smug look on my face. Two can play at this game.

  “Happy to hear you are here to help,” Amanda says, “how do you know Puck?”

  She’s not asking to make conversation this time, she sounds curious.

  “Well…it’s a long story,” I say vaguely.

  It is a long story but not knowing what the story is will make it much more intriguing and hopefully intimidating.

  “I’m sure it is, hon.” she replies, sounding like her snide self, “great to meet you. I’ll let myself out.”

  Oh yes, you will.

  Neither of us say anything else. We don’t make an attempt to shake hands or anything remotely professional. Both of us acted like a couple of jealous girls instead of highly paid business women. I’m somewhat ashamed of myself but I still don’t like her one bit.

  I really want to know the nature of her relationship with Puck. Is she just some slutty looking girl the PR firm hires to maintain client relations or is she something more? What kind of professional drops by a client’s home without an appointment?

  I’m not going to mention her to Puck at all. I’ll wait and see if he says anything. Maybe Steven will have some insight, but I will have to be cautious about how I ask. Puck is my boss, not my boyfriend, which means it’s not my business. We had one kiss and now I know for sure that I have to be careful. Who knows how many other women there are?

  * * *

  ----------

  * * *

  The rest of the day drags on. Even as I’m cleaning up from staff dinner, Puck still isn’t back. I make a couple of leftover meals to reheat and leave them in the refrigerator. Steven never came back today either. I assume they are off having meetings and making things happen, but I’m disappointed none the less. I was more hoping to see Steven so I can get some information on Amanda Adams. I’m not ready to see Puck anyway. I’m unsure where we stand again.

  I spend the night making more spreadsheets for the party. I have to be sure every single detail is in place. Regardless of my feelings for Puck, this event has to perfect. I might even be offered other jobs because of it. Then I will have a reason to get out of this situation that I shouldn’t have gotten myself into in the first place.

  I finish up my paperwork and my list for tomorrow. I have a lot to get done in the next couple of days for the fundraiser, so I’m keeping the house meals simple. I get ready for bed but when I try to sleep, I’m restless. My mind is turning over all kinds of scenarios and replaying my dinner with Puck last night.

  Even more irritating is the fact that visions of Amanda Adams keep popping up in my head. I can’t help wanting to know if she’s been with Puck - if she’s still with him. She sure made it seem like she has. She is gorgeous and has a perfect body. I’m sure he wouldn’t give sleeping with her a second thought. Preston. Nick names are childish. I mock her in my head.

  Thank God we stopped before having sex last night - things got intense enough. If I’m getting this crazy after that, I can’t imagine what I would be doing and thinking if we took it any further. The conversation we had, the things he said, it all seemed so genuine. I really believed him - and I still do. But knowing there are still other women in the picture is hard to swallow. If I decide to move forward with Puck is he going to be able to leave these other women behind?

  ______________

  * * *

  I arrive at the house in the morning much less enthusiastic than the day before. I still haven’t seen Puck, and I don’t plan to. I know he has practices and a lot to do to prepare for the event tomorrow.

  Although it’s very early when I arrive, the house is bustling with activity. Strange faces are moving about, rearranging things and moving belongings around. I set my things down in the kitchen and the backyard catches my eyes through the window. The tent was delivered yesterday and was being set up while I was here. I guess I was so lost in my own world that I didn’t notice it was done.

  I walk around to the patio entrance and step outside. The structure is enormous and way too beautiful to be called a ‘tent’. It’s sitting perfectly centered in the yard before the gardens. The side facing me is open at the moment and there are several people rolling in tables and chairs, half of which are set up already. There are big windows built in to the opposite side and I can see clear through the long expanse of manicured lawn and gardens.

  I make my way down the steps to get a closer view. The inside looks just like an elegant catering hall. Even without the tablecloths and decorations completed, it’s still amazing. There are chandeliers hanging from above and lights strung about. There is a dance floor set in the middle of the tables and bars positioned on each end.

  I see a smaller tent off to the side and out of the way between this one and the garage. That must be my service kitchen for the event. I start walking that way and as I get closer, I see Steven talking to someone inside the kitchen area.
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  “Looks like I got here just in time,” I comment as I look around.

  The tent is erected and it appears everything we need is inside, but it’s in total disarray.

  “You sure did, Dani,” Steven answers turning to face me, “looks like it’s going to be a long day.”

  “It doesn’t look too bad,” I reply, not fully convinced myself.

  “I’m glad you think so,” he says with wide eyes, “we have a few guys that can move everything. You just need to give them direction.”

  “No problem,” I say more confidently, “I have a layout of the equipment drawn in my notes. As long as everything is here, it should be pretty simple.”

  “That’s good to hear. I have other issues I need to take care of so I’m glad you have this under control.”

  “Of course. I’m a professional,” I answer with a wink.

  I see that Steven just drained the last of his coffee while we were talking.

  “I have to go get my plans in the kitchen. Can I interest you in a fresh cup of coffee? I have to make some anyway.” I offer.

  “Definitely,” Steven agrees, “I’ll come and get it in a few. Just want to check on a couple of things.”

  I walk back up towards the house. I keep looking around trying to take it all in. It’s going to be quite a sight when everything is complete. It’s hard to believe that all of this belongs to Puck. He has truly come so far since I first met him. He did always strive to be the best and I guess that tenacity really paid off. Even more admirable is that he is doing so much to give back to the community.

  I smile as I look around one more time before walking in the back door. When I make my way through to the kitchen, I feel at ease momentarily. I’ve quickly come to think of this part of the house as my own. I set the coffee maker and hear my phone notify me that I have a text. I usually keep it off while I’m at work, but I must have forgotten today.

  I pick it up and see a message from Puck ‘Busy day. Just want you to know I’m thinking about you.’

  A warm feeling comes over me. I’m flattered that he’s thinking about me. I grin to myself and read the message again. I decide to wait until later to answer. I don’t want him to think I was waiting for him to reach out. I’m also supposed to be working and technically, he’s still my boss.

  I prepare a quick breakfast and let the staff know all meals for the next couple of days will be simple. I have a ton of things to do and food to prep before the big event. The staff filter in and out, grabbing something to eat. I pour a cup of coffee and get my binder out. It’s now filled with menus and recipes and plans for the outdoor kitchen - which I need right now. I stand near my desk area so I can take out the folder I need to bring outside and hear Steven talking on his phone as he comes in.

  “yes. Yes. Everything will be as discussed,” he answers whoever is on the other line.

  He rinses his coffee cup and begins to refill it while he continues his conversation.

  I’m not really listening to what he’s saying at all until I hear ‘No. I’m sorry, he can’t tonight. He has a meeting with Amanda after.’

  I immediately wonder if it’s ‘the’ Amanda. I want to ask Steven, but I don't know how to ask him casually - especially since it will sound like I was listening to his conversation. I also don’t want to sound jealous, although apparently I am.

  Steven ends his conversation and says out loud, “I can’t wait for this fundraiser to be over.”

  Even though he’s not really addressing me, I reply, “It’s a lot of work. I’m sure you will be happy when you see the final outcome.”

  “I know. It’s always turned out to be a fabulous night. It’s just such a big deal,” he sighs, “and I’m such a perfectionist. Everyone who’s anyone is going to be there and those who aren’t, will hear or read about it.

  “Oh, it’s publicized?” I ask, seizing the opportunity to get the scoop on Amanda.

  “Of course. It does wonders for his personal reputation and never fails to bring in a second wave of donations.”

  “I guess that’s where the public relations firm comes in?” I ask.

  “Yup. They’re amazing. They’ve been representing Puck for years,” he informs me.

  “Oh. That must be who Amanda Adams works for then,” I add lightly.

  “Yes. She’s great. Have you two met?” Steven asks.

  “She stopped in yesterday. I forgot to mention it - she said she would call Puck anyway,” I don’t want him to think I’m trying to hide anything.

  “Yes, she’s a little unorthodox, but she’s one of the best in the business,” he says, snapping the lid on his coffee, “she likes to be pretty ‘hands on’,” he emphasizes with a facial expression that tells me he has some gossip he’s not sharing.

  “We didn’t spend too much time together so I wouldn’t know much about how ‘hands on’ she is,” I emphasize the same phrase back to him, hoping he will expand on his thought.

  “Well, let’s just say, she knows what the public wants and how to give it to them,” he chuckles, “I have to get back outside. I’ll check in with you later.”

  I stand in the kitchen alone, reviewing what Steven just told me. Amanda certainly made it sound like her and Puck have a ‘thing’ going on. She didn’t make any attempt to hide it. Steven just basically confirmed everything she was insinuating - at least that’s what he made it sound like. What am I supposed to think now? I’ve been out of Puck’s life for so long and I am aware that he’s been with many women, probably more than I would like to think, but this bitch seems to be pretty present and doesn’t sound like she’s going away any time soon.

  For now, I need to focus on the fundraiser. I can’t let her or Puck get in my head right now while I have way more important things to think about. There is a lot riding on my success with the catering end of this event - Puck’s success, my pride, and my future career. I can’t let childish jealousy get in the way of my performance.

  With that thought, I take my notes, my coffee, and one of my home made protein bars, and return to the yard. I need to have this kitchen in full working order as soon as possible. I hired some outside staff and they’re coming in later to help get the prep work underway.

  Of course Puck has a beautiful outdoor kitchen on the property, but it doesn’t have the equipment or capacity for what we need for this event. I explain my plans to the small crew that is setting up the temporary kitchen. I make sure they are clear on what needs to be done and watch them for a few minutes. Once I’m comfortable with what they’re doing, I start to walk back to my own kitchen inside.

  I take the long way through the main event area. It’s looking even better than a short time ago. It seems almost everything is in place for today. Tomorrow the linens and decorations will be brought in and arranged.

  Marla is in the kitchen when I get back inside. She looks a little anxious, which is out of character for her.

  “Hey, Marla, are you okay?”

  “Yes, Ms. Dani,” she replies sweetly, “there is so much to do in the house today. All these people running around are giving me more work to do.”

  I give the older woman a look of understanding, “just take your time, Marla, I’m sure everything will get done, and we are all here to help.”

  She answers me with a polite smile and a nod, picks up a basket of folded linens, and leaves the room.

  There is clearly a lot going on all over the estate, inside and out. Everyone seems to be slightly on edge trying to get their jobs done while other people come in and out, disrupting the flow. I’m happy the kitchen is pretty clear of traffic and I can use my own space uninterrupted.

  I get busy with some sauces and marinades that need the most time. I take a a few minutes to make some finger sandwiches and pasta salad that I leave out for whoever is hungry in the house. In the early afternoon, the two guys I hired to help me prep arrive. I have them trimming the meats and getting the vegetables ready. My tasks are getting done a lot faster now that
they’re here, which gives me some relief.

  “Dani?” I hear one of the guys from the outside crew address me from the kitchen entrance.

  “Yes? You need something?” I ask nicely, wiping my hands on a kitchen towel.

  “We’re all set. Want to come take a look and make sure everything is how you want it?” he asks.

  “Sure!” I reply, enthusiastically. I’m excited to see what they have done.

  We walk outside and down the path together. A huge smile crosses my lips when I see my new pop up kitchen.

  “What do you think?” he asks proudly.

  I walk around the large tent, running my fingers along the row of stainless steel grills and prep tables. Across from them there is an area with convection ovens and warming ovens, baker’s racks, and a long plating station. There is a full size walk in refrigerator sitting inconspicuously on one corner of the tented area. This is like a dream come true for a private chef like me. I’ve worked large events, but I’ve never been in charge of one of this magnitude before. I’ve also never had the chance to design what I needed for my own menu. I have to remember to thank Puck later.

  “It’s perfect,” I answer, still taking it all in.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he replies, “your plans worked out great. Everything fit the way you wanted, and your choice of equipment is top notch.”

  “Only the best for the best,” I answer, feeling giddy.

  “Good luck. We checked the lines and the power, everything appears to be in full operating order. It will be a few hours before the walk in is cold enough. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

  “Thanks again,” I say, shaking his hand

  I take another walk around, mentally laying out the menu items in their places. Once I’m satisfied, I get back to work inside. The guys are well under way and we are right on schedule. We work together through the evening and it’s pretty late by the time we finish up. I thank them and tell them to get a good night’s sleep. We have to be back here early in the morning.