After a one night stand on New Year's Eve, Lia and Derrick don't expect to see one another again. After all, she's a Harvard PhD student and he's a professional hockey player for the Boston Knights - there's no way their paths should cross again.
E...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
The trade deadline approached faster than I anticipated, and suddenly, it was the last Monday of February and I had a packed day at work, unable to really follow any news around the decisions being made. Though I made sure to message Derrick when I was finally able to find a half hour to take my lunch.
How are you holding up today?
Honestly, I'm on edge. Coach pulled me aside to let me know that the front office definitely has my name in the mix, but I'm still expected to follow today's workflow until anything official comes through.
I'm sorry 😔 I hope things end up going your way, but if they don't, I hope it gets you one step closer to hoisting the Stanley Cup.
No response came through after that, and with the craziness he was likely dealing with, I didn't necessarily expect one to. However, just as I finished my lunch and stepped out of the café I'd popped into, my phone buzzed.
Though it wasn't Derrick. It was my mom.
"Mom? Everything okay?"
Her familiar laughter sounded through the speaker. "Of course, dear. What? A mother can't call and check in on her own daughter?"
"You can," I said, turning my face away from the wind, "but you normally don't during lunch. Or on Mondays."
Normally our weekly catch up took place on Sundays, whenever both my parents and I could find time to talk, though yesterday, while I hadn't been busy, neither of my parents had been free.
"Well, our weekends might be a bit busier out here for the foreseeable future, so these spontaneous calls may become a regular thing."
"Busier?" I chewed my lip with worry, trying to rack my head for something I'd missed over the holidays. Some hint that things may be off, or changing, but I couldn't think of anything. "What do you mean? Should I be worried about something?"
"No, no, really, nothing's wrong. Quite the opposite actually," she responded. "Have you ever heard of San Fran's Food Fantasy?"
"I... think so," I said, trailing off as I remembered where I'd heard that name. "They're a food blog, right?"
"Yeah, they are. And they actually did a piece on the restaurant last week."
"Mom, that's great!"
The joy seeped into her words as she said, "I know, I know. It's crazy, and since the post went live on Wednesday, we've been swamped."
"Well, you've always been popular in the city, so it's about time the rest of the state—and the rest of the country—knows it."
"Thanks, honey." After a short pause, she decided to turn the conversation back around to me. "But what's new with you? I know you've been swamped lately working on your defense."
