Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
It is and there’s no sense in pretending it’s not. I’d already decided to help him, but after that kiss? I was ready to plead with my father to let Dominic be the new captain, coach, boss, or whatever else he wants to be. Reason did eventually return . . . slightly . . . but I still feel like Dominic’s desire to enact some positive change for the Blizzard is a good cause.
“I have an idea, but I need your help.”
“There it is,” he chuckles as I prove his point.
“It’ll be good for the team too,” I rush to add, knowing that it’s the only way to pique his interest.
“I’m listening.” He probably is, but I can also hear him typing in the background, multitasking something hockey related I’m sure and unable to give his only daughter a few minutes of his precious time.
“We have an event coming up at the zoo next month. It’s a party of sorts to celebrate the birth of the new gibbon and raise funds for—”
“How much?”
“What?” I say in confusion. But then I sigh, not surprised he instantly latched on to the financial aspect. “I don’t want a donation. I want a few players.”
It’s his turn to be confused. “What?”
“I want a few Blizzard players to make an appearance at the party as a way of drawing interest to the event. They don’t have to do anything other than be social and take a few pictures with attendees. It’d be great PR for the team too.”
“We’re a little busy with games,” he says, making it sound like I’m unaware of the time commitment being a hockey player (or coach) requires. Believe me, I know how much time it takes. And what that time costs in relationships.
“I already checked the schedule. The party is on October 25, which happens to be a no-game weekend for you. And you’re at home the next game, so no travel schedule either. I’ve thought of everything.”
“Have you now?” Dad says. The typing stops, and I hear squeaking as though he’s leaning back in his chair to give me his full attention. “You never want anything to do with hockey. Why now?”
It’s a fair point. I never go to games, am standoffish to players, and only show up when there’s free food and drinks to be had. “The baby gibbon? It was born to Caprice, my favorite animal in the entire zoo. We’re raising funds by holding a naming contest for her. The highest bid gets to name the baby, within reason. No Gibbon McGibbonface or Harambaby or corporate names. I want her to have an appropriate name, something that reflects the importance of her birth. If we have a big turnout for the party, we’ll raise more funds, and it’s more likely she’ll get a good name.”
Dad is quiet for a moment and I honestly think he’s going to laugh at me. He doesn’t care about the zoo, or animals, or their names. He cares about me, to a point, but I’m not sure if his love runs deep enough for an ask like this.
“Do you have anyone in particular in mind?”
“Really?” I shout in surprise. My feet take me on a happy dance tour around the break area where zoo employees can have lunch without being interrupted by guests.
“Tell me quickly before I change my mind. Who do you want?”
This feels like a trap. But I do have a few people I’d like to come to the party. For a multitude of different reasons.
“I’d love for the team favorites to come—Mike Kipson, Wayne Anderson, Paulie Pacholek, Lynn Sabine. And Dominic Lee since he’s new to Blizzard but has a fanbase from the Hawks. Maybe one or two of the rookies?” I inhale and add, “And you, of course.”
I don’t think Dad will come. But I tack him on at the last minute as an olive branch since he’s even considering this idea. If he comes, great. If he just sends a check, that’s good for the zoo. And if he agrees to send the rest of the players, Dominic can start to improve their team dynamics.
“Huh,” Dad scoffs. “I wouldn’t have thought you even knew the players’ names.”
“They’re popular players, Dad. And I’ve met most of them.” I intentionally don’t mention that I met Dominic at this year’s preseason get-together, and definitely don’t mention that we’ve had some further contact since then, knowing Dad would not approve. For all his faults, Dad wouldn’t want me to date a hockey player. He knows how they are, after all.
“I don’t know if those guys are gonna want to spend their free time doing charity work for the zoo.”
I laugh lightly. “Maybe not, but they’ll do whatever their coach tells them to do.”
“I can ask them,” he says. “But I can’t make any promises. Union bargaining agreement, you know.”