Overnight Sensation(34)

“Licensed apparel. It’s boring but not smelly.” I’ve only done two shifts so far, and I can’t complain. “I’ll write you a report for everything I’ve done so far.”

“Good work, intern.” She slaps me on the back. “I’ll read every word.”





I have never seen so many groceries.

Shopping takes me a really long time, because everyone’s list needs to be kept separate. And, as I shop for six hockey players, certain trends emerge.

One—hockey players eat a lot.

Two—hockey players like avocados. I have never bought so many avocados. If there’s an avocado company listed on the New York Stock Exchange, I’m going to direct Daddy to invest part of my trust fund in it. When I finally get my hands on that money—in fifty years, when Daddy has eventually forgiven me—my inheritance will have quadrupled.

“You must be very hungry,” the cabbie says as I load fifteen shopping bags into the back of his car. I’ve already written every player’s name on the bags in Sharpie marker.

But this guy doesn’t know that. “Actually, I’m eating for four,” I say, patting my stomach.

His brow furrows as he closes the trunk. He can’t decide if I’m kidding. “Congratulations,” he says eventually.

“Thank you. If only I knew who the father was.”

The man climbs into the front seat in a big fat hurry, while I give myself a private high-five. Nice girls don’t make tasteless jokes. But I’m breaking all the rules these days.

In the back of the cab, I pull out my phone to see if I’ve forgotten anything. But no. Every single item on my to-do list is checked off. Tonight I can send out my invoices and collect my moonlighting cash.

There’s only one thing missing. My little business needs a name. I’m considering Mighty Heidi, because it almost rhymes. But it’s not quite right…

A text pops onto the screen. It’s from Eric, my ex. My finger hovers over the notification to dismiss it, but then I happen to glimpse a snippet of the message. I’m in town for an interview and I’d like to take you to dinner.

Well, crumbs. If he’s in town, can I really refuse to see him? That’s breaking about seventeen different rules of etiquette.

I tap on his name and call him. Half of me hopes he won’t pick up. But then he does. “Heidi Jo,” he says in a soft voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice? Please tell me you didn’t butt dial me.”

“No,” I say, already wishing I hadn’t called. “I saw your message.”

“Can I see you?”

“Well, it really depends on the day. My father has me working some strange jobs lately, and the hours are pretty unpredictable.”

He chuckles, as if that’s just so adorable, and my temper flares. The men in my life never take me seriously. “Well, I’m only in town for thirty-six hours, but I’d really love to see you. I miss you so much. I’d like to take you out and spoil you.”

“That’s really nice, Eric,” I say gently. “Maybe that could work.”

“I hope so.” He sighs. “Still don’t know why you had to leave school.” And me. I hear those extra words at the end of that sentence even if he won’t say it. “Pennsylvania isn’t the same without you.”

“I’m pretty sure Pennsylvania will survive.” Although I’m so tired right now that Eric’s nostalgic tone is wearing me down. Maybe I’ll have dinner with him, if my schedule permits. Is it awful that I miss having a guy who calls me every night before bed and whispers I love you?

“Look, I’m thinking of graduating early,” he says. “This interview is for a job that would start in February. In the analyst-training program.”

“Wait, what?” That wakes me from my reverie. “But that’s right in the middle of hockey season.”

His chuckle is low and warm. “Figures that would be your first concern. But the Villanova Ice Cats will just have to make do. It’s my last season to play anyway, Heidi Jo. It’s not like the Brooklyn Bruisers are going to come calling.”

He’s right, I guess. Most college hockey players are done with the sport on senior night. But who could ditch his team right before the playoffs! “It must be a great job opportunity. Is it at a bank?”

“Goldman Sachs. It’s top-shelf. If they offer me the spot, I’m taking it.”

“Oh,” I say slowly. “Well, I’m sure you’ll wow them with your smarts.”

“I’ll wow them, and we’ll celebrate with a nice dinner. I’ll send you my itinerary. If I’m in town for two nights instead of one, that doubles my chances of seeing you, right?”

“Yes, I guess it does.” I’m just not sure how I feel about it.

“You take care, honey. Can’t wait to see you.”

We sign off just as the cab pulls up in front of my boys’ Water Street condo building. I get out on tired feet and begin to pull grocery bags out of the trunk of the cab.

The condo’s doors open and Miguel emerges, rolling a brass bellman’s cart. That solves the problem of how a girl can deliver groceries to five different apartments. God bless millionaires. They’ve thought of everything.