PUCK (A BAD BOY HOCKEY ROMANCE)

by Marx, Jessica

  I step outside the kitchen to cool off and get some fresh air. The band has reverted back to softer tones, so the guests can enjoy their meal. The sound of silverware and plates gives me a sense of accomplishment. I hope to hear some good feedback soon - or any for that matter. I put my heart and soul into this menu, just as Puck put his into this cause.

  I hear some announcements being made, and then some clapping. I know there is someone being honored, although I can’t remember who. I peek back in the kitchen and see my staff expertly preparing the desserts, so I continue back outside to get a better idea of what’s going on inside the party.

  There is another round of applause, and then I recognize Puck’s voice over the microphone. He begins by thanking everyone and congratulating the guest of honor. He then goes into a speech about how important this night is for him and his charity. I wish he would explain why he feels so attached to the cause of helping abused children. There may be no personal reason, but other than hockey, I’ve never known him to be this passionate about anything else.

  “Dani?”

  I’m startled when I hear my name. I was listening intently and thought I was alone. I turn and there is a handsome man, around my age, that looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t recall who he is.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the man says, taking a step closer. “By the way you’re looking at me, I’m guessing you don’t remember me,” he says with a warm smile.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t,” I answer, feeling foolish.

  “Peter. Peter Simms,” he offers his hand to me to shake.

  “Oh my God! Peter!” I exclaim, suddenly remembering him from high school, “you look so different.”

  Peter was one of Puck’s very good friends. When we were younger, he was so awkward looking. He had a long, lanky body, braces, and long, shaggy hair. The man standing in front of me is the cliché - tall, dark, and handsome. He has a muscular build, bright green eyes, and black hair combed neatly back. He actually looks really hot. Nothing like the Peter I remember.

  He straightens up, “yes. My mother says ‘I grew into myself’.”

  You sure have. I chuckle politely, “what are you doing here?” I ask awkwardly. Obviously he’s here because of Puck.

  “It’s one of the few times a year I get to see Puck,” he replies without making me feel stupid for asking.

  “That’s great you guys still keep in touch.”

  “Yes. Between his schedule and mine, it can be hard, but we try to get together a couple of times a year,” he informs me, “and I make him get me tickets to his games sometimes.”

  Peter finishes his statement with a smirk and takes a sip of his cocktail.

  “What do you do that keeps you so busy?” I ask, an unexpected flirtatious tone in my voice.

  “I work in finance. I have to travel a lot which is nice, but can also be exhausting and hard to maintain a social life,” he replies, flashing a bright smile at me.

  I think he might be hinting that he’s single, but he may also just be making conversation.

  “God, Dani, you’re even more gorgeous than you were in high school. How is that possible?” Peter complements me, “and the food? Incredible.”

  I blush. Maybe he is hitting on me.

  “Thanks,” I reply, feeling shy suddenly, “I don’t recall you thinking much of me back then. I think you guys used to just make fun of me.”

  “Pretty sure we all thought you were hot, but we were a bunch of pricks,” he laughs, “typical teenage boys.”

  “Yeah, good times,” I reply sarcastically.

  “At least we all grew up. Shit, look around,” he says, gesturing at the gala going on behind him, “I think after everything happened, Puck really got his shit together.”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I say curiously.

  “I’m sure you heard about it, maybe you forgot that too,” Peter kids, then more seriously, “you know, with the hazing.”

  “The hazing? I’m confused.”

  “I hope I’m not letting you in on a secret, but I guess since that’s one of the reasons we’re all here, it’s not really confidential.”

  “I’m sure I heard something at some point,” I lie, “but I’m not really sure what you’re talking about.”

  I know I should be getting back to the kitchen, but Peter has my attention. I want to know what happened. I look up at him, waiting for the story.

  “When Puck went off to play hockey, he was the new guy. He wasn’t popular like he was in town. There weren’t any girls at the prep school either, so he really had to work to make friends,” Peter sips his drink before continuing, “he did what he could to fit in, including bullying this poor kid, Kyle.”

  None of this is ringing a bell. I don’t know if I was never told or I hated Puck so much at that point, that I just didn’t care to listen.

  “Kyle did nothing wrong, other than being emotionally weak and getting a scholarship to the school. The guys Puck got in with ridiculed this kid every day - tortured him really,” Peter explains, “one day, I guess Kyle had had enough, or he grew some balls, I don’t know,” he sips his drink again, “he talks back to one of the bigger guys and tries to punch him. He still must have been scared though, because he missed.”

  I’m entranced by what I’m hearing. I knew Puck was an asshole, but this is worse than anything he ever did when I was around.

  “So the group of boys starts beating the shit out of this kid. Like, bad,” he looks at me with sad eyes, like he doesn’t want to tell me just how bad, “Puck grabbed one of their hockey sticks,” I wince, not really wanting to hear what happens next, but Peter keeps going, “and started wailing on the guys, protecting Kyle. From what he told me, he was yelling like a barbarian and swinging the stick like a crazy person. Something in him just snapped that day.”

  I’m in awe. How could no one have told me all of this?

  Peter continues, “Puck decided to be a man that day, and never looked back. Maybe beating kids with a hockey stick wasn’t the best decision, but it worked. He became friendly with Kyle, and learned that he was so upset about the constant bullying, that he had attempted suicide. Kyle was also abused by his own father from an early age, which is probably how he became an easy target. After Puck learned all of this, and the potential consequence of his actions, something changed in him,” he says with a sense of pride in his friend.

  “Holy shit,” is all I can come up with.

  “Yeah. Holy shit,” Peter says, “he really grew up. A couple of the other guys got thrown out of the academy. Puck should have been too, but the other guys stuck up for him to protect themselves, I guess, and it was chalked up to self defense. As you of course know, Puck went on to become a professional and use his money and influence to help other kids who might be like Kyle. I think knowing that Kyle almost killed himself really affected Puck. He changed so much - confessed a lot of his sins and regrets - even admitted that you and him never hooked up, which he really had no reason to do,” he informs me, “but I know you’re still off limits,” he adds trying to lighten the mood.

  I’m floored. Puck redeemed my honor - and for no other reason than to clear his conscience so he could move on. He never told me any of this. None of it. He easily could have told me the other night when we spoke about our past that he cleared my name, but he didn’t. I guess it doesn’t matter. It wouldn't change anything that happened and I don’t know how I would have felt about it anyway.

  “I see dessert coming,” Peter says, breaking my chain of thought, “don’t want to miss anything coming from your kitchen.”

  He hugs me, “I hope I didn’t just expose a family secret,” he says as we embrace, “The booze can give me loose lips,” Peter shakes the ice in his empty glass, “maybe keep that story to yourself for a while.”

  “Of course,” I reply, “it was so nice to see you again, Peter.”

  “Yes, nice to see you too.”

  Peter walks back into the
party and I silently remain in my place and replay everything he just told me in my head. I knew Puck changed, but now I know why. I’m finding it hard to hate him again. He really is a good guy - even if he would suck as a boyfriend.

  I begin to make my way back to the kitchen and catch a glimpse of Puck through one of the windows. It’s the first time I’ve seen him tonight. He’s standing near a table talking to some of the guests who appear to be laughing.

  Even from this distance, I can tell how handsome he looks. He’s wearing a dark suit and white shirt that is fitted close enough to see the muscles in his chest and torso. His tie is teal in support of the cause, who’s iconic symbol is also teal. I think I’m staring unnoticed until I see Amanda’s face. She sidles up next to Puck and joins in the laughter.

  Amanda looks stunning - of course. She’s wearing a tight fitting black gown. The front is low cut and the back, even lower, hanging at the base of her lower back. With her hair in a loose bun, she exudes an heir of pure class. I swear she’s looking at me, but I’m not sure if she can actually see me out here. I roll my eyes in disgust and walk the short distance to the kitchen. __________

  * * *

  Back in the kitchen, the desserts are already complete and being picked up and delivered to the tables. I’m thankful I hired such a capable crew - especially since I was able to disappear without any problems for longer than I expected. No one seemed to notice my absence, and I immediately get to work pulling the chocolate cups from the freezer so the bar staff can fill them with cordials that are being served with the desserts. Other than clean up, this is the last of the menu items for the night.

  I catch a glimpse of a perfectly manicured hand picking up one of the cups from my tray. I look up and Amanda is standing in front of me, now twirling the cup in between her fingers and examining it.

  “Those will be liquor filled if you want to wait a few minutes,” I suggest, trying to be nice. I don’t know what her agenda is, but I immediately have my guard up.

  “Oh, no, hon,” she smirks, “I wouldn’t look like this if I ate this kind of garbage,” she comments, indicating her own figure, “I’m sure it’s delicious, hon, just not for me.”

  Why is she harassing me? I’m not a confrontational person, but it’s taking everything I have to hold my tongue and be the bigger woman.

  “Well, it’s yours now,” I sneer, turning my attention back to the tray.

  Amanda places the chocolate on the table, but maintains her position across from me.

  “He’s out of your league, you know,” she informs me.

  “What?” I ask, not really sure what she’s talking about.

  “Puck. I saw you staring at him just a few minutes ago,” she explains, “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  Is this bitch kidding me? I already decided I was over Puck when I heard him on the phone with her after leaving me a note, but now I want to fuck him just to spite her. I calm myself before answering, that’s not really how I feel, but she is really grinding on my last nerve.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I lie, “but he’s all yours.”

  “Oh, I know, hon,” Amanda says smugly, “I just didn’t want you thinking you had a chance. You’re not his type,” she finishes, looking me up and down.

  I can’t help myself anymore, “if I wanted him, I would have had him already,” I answer, matching her bitchy tone, “but like I said, he’s all yours.”

  Amanda gives a short, sly, laugh, mocking my statement.

  “I’d love to chat some more, but I have a lot to do. If you don’t mind, would you please get the fuck out of my kitchen?” So much for keeping my cool.

  “Sure, hon,” she leers at me, “I was just about to leave anyway. I’m sure I’m missed inside the party right now.”

  Amanda struts back into the pavilion. I have honestly never met such a raging bitch. I don’t know who or what gave her the impression that I want to be with Puck - I certainly didn’t. She laid her claim on him the first time we met. I’m fuming right now. Who is she to speak to me like that? She didn’t even flinch when I responded or told her to ‘get the fuck out of my kitchen’.

  I place the last of the chocolate cups on the tray and begin pacing, looking for something to do to get my mind off the scene that just occurred. I’m seriously considering quitting this job. I don’t think working for Puck is going very well at this point, and if I have to deal with Amanda for another minute, it is a definite deal breaker. There is too much stress for me here. Catering this party was a breeze compared to the emotional turmoil I have continued to experience since I was hired.

  “Dani!” my father’s voice bellows from behind me, thankfully breaking my train of thought, “you never cease to amaze me,” he places his hands on my shoulders as he speaks and kisses me on the cheek.

  “Come on, dad,” I reply, “you’re my father, what else would you say?”

  “Relations aside, that meal was phenomenal,” he assures me, “I truly mean it.”

  “He really does, Dan,” Joanne adds, “he’s been bragging about you all night.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, rolling my eyes and feeling like a little kid.

  “We’ve raised some great kids,” dad says fondly. He places his arm around Joanne’s waist, “and here comes the other one.”

  My heart stops. I do not want to see Puck right now.

  “Can you excuse me?” I say quickly, “I need to get something from inside. I’ll be back in a few.”

  I briskly walk away before they have a chance to ask any questions. Amanda really got my blood boiling and I don’t want to confront Puck about it. I usually don’t play into jealousy and games. He is apparently trying to play us both, and she is trying to make her place in his life very clear. I don’t have the time or patience for this.

  I wish I didn’t have a long night of cleaning and breaking down the kitchen ahead of me. I just want to sneak out to my car, leave, and never come back. Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I step inside and look around. There are a couple of employees milling about, but otherwise the house appears to be empty. I’m not sure what to pretend to be doing in here, so I decide to kill a few minutes in the guest bathroom again so I can at least be alone.

  I look at myself and wish I had another change of clothing - especially after mentally comparing myself to Amanda. I know I would look just as beautiful if I was in formal wear as opposed to my work clothes, but I’m not in the right frame of mind to start that kind of reasoning. I force myself to stop thinking about her and absent-mindedly wash myself up and try to look a little more presentable before exiting the restroom.

  Puck is standing just outside the door when I step out. Fuck.

  “Hey, baby,” he greets me with a huge smile on his face, “you were outstanding tonight. Everyone was raving about the food - about you.”

  He begins walking toward me. Before I have a chance to stop him, Puck hugs me, pulling me close into an embrace. My entire body stiffens and I leave my arms hanging at my side. He backs away just enough to see my face.

  “What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy? The entire night went off without a hitch and you are now a culinary star,” he says, searching my face for a smile.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, very,” he answers confused, “did I miss something? I thought everything was perfect.”

  “I’m sure you did,” I reply, “I have a lot left to do before I leave. I can’t talk about this right now.”

  “Dani, please,” Puck begs, but I’m already storming off.

  I don’t like being vague, but I’m not ready to confront him at the moment. I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotions today - in addition to pulling off this event. Between his note this morning, the overheard phone call, Peter’s story, and Amanda’s warnings, I don’t know what the fuck is going on anymore. I need to finish and put an end to this day, go home, and get a good night’s sleep. When I have a clear head, I’ll decide what to do.

/>   I notice my father and Joanne strolling toward me along the path and put on a cheerful face. They don’t need to know anything about what’s going on, not right now anyway.

  “You guys leaving?” I ask pleasantly.

  “We are,” Joanne replies, “we were just coming in to say good night. It’s late for us old folks.”

  I chuckle politely, “I’m glad you were here. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chance to cook for you.”

  “And you did a stellar job, sweetie,” my father complements, “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks, dad,” I hug him good night, “I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Joanne embraces me next, “are you okay?” she whispers, intuitively picking up on my mood.

  “Yes, just exhausted.”

  “I’m sure you’ll sleep well after all the hard work you’ve done today,” she declares, “let’s plan a day together soon. It’s been too long.”

  “Definitely,” I promise.

  We kiss good night and I watch them amble off together before making my own way back down to the kitchen. Steven is leaning against one of the tables with a small plate in his hands.

  “Hey, I haven’t seen you all night,” I say to Steven, “everything was incredible. You did such a good job putting this all together.”

  He looks up from his plate, “I’ve been running all over the place. This is the first chance I’ve had to relax and eat some of the delicious food I’ve been hearing so much about all night,” he smiles at me and takes a forkful into his mouth, “even leftover, it’s fantastic.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, “my parents told me the same, but they’re a little biased.”

  “They’re right. I really underestimated you. Puck was right, I’m glad he insisted on having you run the show.”

  Hearing Puck’s name and being reminded of his confidence in me when everyone else doubted me, tugs on my heartstrings. My next thought is of what a player and straight up asshole he’s been since then. Why does this have to be so difficult? One minute I’m forgiving him and the next, I’m hating him. I need to get myself out of this situation.