the next one. I don’t see Erik Jorgenson in the tabloids much. Is he gay?”
“I don’t think so. But anything’s possible.”
“It is! Oh, God, listen to me yammering on!” Tara poked a finger in Mia’s shoulder. “I saw you. With him.”
Did she think that Mia and Jorgenson had something going on? “No, not at all. I hardly know him.”
“But you want to. I saw the two of you chatting at the wedding. He’s quite the catch in that sharp suit. Love a man in a sharp suit. And he probably wears cuff links as well because he’s all class. Those sports agents always are. Jerry Maguire, as I live and breathe. You had me at hockey.”
“You mean Tommy Gordon?” Her voice was pitched far too high. How had Tara picked up on this? And if she had, who else knew? “We were talking about the possibility of representation.” She still hadn’t summoned up the courage to call him because she needed to enter the rink with a better strategy.
“Yeah, but I saw how you looked at him when he walked away. That was longing, girl. I know that look. You’ve got a thing for him!”
Mia shrunk her shoulders inward. “He reps Vadim, actually, so that’s the extent of our relationship.”
“But you want more?” Tara took a sip of her coffee, made a face, and grinned broadly. “You and I should have a little chat.”
Tara was all right.
Definitely a case of never judge a book by its cover. So the woman talked non-stop, looked like she and the ’tox were besties, and was prone to bouquet-zilla meltdowns at weddings.
But other than that, Tara was pretty decent.
“I thought Cal moving to Chicago to play for the Rebels would take us to the next level, y’know?”
Mia nodded, not really caring to hear all the ins and outs of Tara’s failed relationship with Cal Foreman. Apparently four months ago, they’d met at a bar in Chicago after a game when Foreman still played for the Quebec Royals. (They speak French up there, did you know that?)
Mia’s guilt made her gabby. “I heard he accused you of posting that thing online.”
Tara scoffed. “I only wish I’d thought of it. If I knew who did it, I’d buy them a drink.”
“Or a coffee.”
Tara did a cartoon double take and shrieked, causing several people to turn their heads in alarm. “Get out! Of course. Who else would it be?”
Mia lowered her voice. “I didn’t mean for it to be so obvious. I should have made the names more vague but a couple of the players picked up on it right away and now he’s getting shit for it. Mostly I’m sorry that he accused you of something I did.”
Tara was chuckling. “Are you kidding? I don’t care about that. I only wish I’d figured out what he was up to while he was doing it. I should have suspected his commitment issues when I found out he was engaged once and she dumped him. That’s the only one I don’t know the whole story on.”
Mia had heard something about that, but details were scant. Neither did she want to be a gossip—or an obvious one. Thankfully, Tara moved on.
“So tell me all about your guy.”
“He’s not my guy,” Mia said glumly. “He doesn’t even know I exist.”
“That’s defeatist talk! Do you think I gave up when Cal didn’t call me the minute he moved to Chicago? No, I hung out at the coffee shop near where he lives and accidentally ran into him.”
Oh dear. “You stalked him.”
“No, merely going after what I want. Some guys need a little push. So he wasn’t the one for me, but that’s okay! We live and learn.”
Remarkably sane attitude from the stalker. “I’m not even sure Tommy’s the one for me. He’s kind of classy and I’m, well, not.”
“Nonsense! You’re really tall. Like supermodel tall.” She reached over and pulled on Mia’s pony tail. “What kind of conditioner do you use? I can recommend something. Why do you assume this can’t be done?”
“Well, there’s a charity gala in November and I was thinking I’d like to make my move then? But that’s the problem. I have no moves. I haven’t dated much and all the guys I’ve been with are idiot jocks with college-quality boners.” She wanted a man, not a boy. Someone who took her seriously, who would have her back and treat her like his world. “I don’t know how to woo someone like Tommy. I don’t suppose—” She