He’s cute, for a hockey player. Of course he has the ridiculous flop of hair – it’s called “flow,” he explains, the first time she mentions it–but he also has lovely hands and a butt that should have its own zipcode, so she forgives the hair.
She’s been warned off him by four different people. Her manager: Bob Zimmermann is tabloid fodder. Stay away. Her sports-mad actress friend, Lucy: He’s a player and he’s got a reputation as a player. And weirdly, her Dad: Allie, not a hockey player! (When she asks her father to elaborate, she gets only a grunt, one of the non-expressive ones.)
Despite the warnings–and yes, he is a flirt, but he’s a flirt who knows where the line is and won’t cross it–she goes out with him . Tabloid fodder sells magazine covers. Free publicity. And if he’s a flirt, she is one too, a bit. Though after a month of knowing him, Alicia thinks part of his ‘flirty’ reputation is sheer exuberant friendliness. Even in fashion and theater, she’s met…maybe two people?…who are as interested in other people as Bob is.
They go to a French restaurant. This is part Bob’s choice–“Let me take you to this place I like! It’s quiet and it has nice food” and part hers–“I would like to go somewhere I can wear a slinky dress and heels.” She means to sound pragmatic and probably–damn it–sounds flirty.
Published
what i do is not up to you 