to me. “Do you recognize this?”
I opened the page and could’ve sworn my eyes widened to rival an owl’s. “Where did you get this?” My gaze rescanned the bucket list I’d written in college.
Or rather, a black-and-white photocopy of the list. The original version had color illustrations sketched in the side margins.
“You have my permission to create the line of dresses, with you as the head designer. We can see what happens and evaluate in a year or two to decide if it will remain part of the company’s portfolio.”
I was about to fling my arms around her and tell her a million thank-yous—but she beat me to the punchline.
“However.” The word punctured the air like a honey-covered bullet. “Before I grant you permission, you need to complete everything on that list.” She nodded at the piece of paper in my hands. “And you’ve got three months to do it.”
I stared at her, unblinking, positive I’d misheard her.
Bibi wasn’t the kind of woman who made jokes, but maybe that was part of her early New Year’s resolution. Her very early New Year’s resolution, given it was six months and six days until the new year.
So, I did what anyone would do in this situation—I laughed.
Only Bibi didn’t laugh with me.
All right—let’s step back for a second and discuss my bucket list.
Did it contain death-defying feats such as skydiving?
Thank the Lord, no.
Item #1: Ride a horse (a real one, not a carousel horse).
Item #2: Go on a hayride.
So far it didn’t sound too tough, right?
And it wasn’t…if you didn’t count the part where I didn’t know anyone who owned a horse.
But it got better.
Or worse, depending on your perspective.
Item #3: Learn to make a beautiful cake (like a wedding cake).
Why did I put the previous point on the list? I had no idea. It might’ve been because one of my college roommates had been newly engaged, and we’d been flipping through her wedding magazines, discussing our dream weddings.
That was before the fiasco with the man who would later be my fiancé…and then ex-fiancé.
Item #4: Kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower.
A little problematic given I didn’t have any plans to fly to Paris anytime within the next three months.
Item #5: A date with a hot hockey player.
Yep, no idea why that had made the list either. I hadn’t known any hockey players at the time (and still didn’t). And it wasn’t as though the San Francisco Academy of Art had a collegiate hockey team.
But my friends had been hockey fans, and I guess the vodka coolers we’d been drinking had given me all kinds of ideas.
Hence item #6: Find a husband.
My gaze shifted from the list in my hand to my grandmother’s smiling face—a smiling face with satisfaction clearly painted on it.
“And just so you know,” she said, “he can’t be a fake husband. So no pretending you got married. It has to be true love.”
I hadn’t thought my grandmother was going senile, but now I was having second thoughts. “You really expect me to fall in love and get married in less than three months?”
“Absolutely not. To fall in love requires you actually getting out and meeting men. Since you spend most of your time either here or in your apartment making dresses, I can guarantee there are no men in your life right now.”
I inwardly huffed at that.
2
Eli
“Hey, Sunshine,” I said to the little blonde girl with braces on her lower legs. Her real name was Sarina, but she reminded me of a ray of sunshine, hence my nickname for her.
I fist-bumped her, and she beamed at me. “Hi, Eli.”
My favorite thing about being an NHL player?
I mean, other than the part where my team, the Rock, was doing great when it came to this year’s Stanley Cup playoffs. We were currently in the Western Conference finals against the Calgary Flames. The winning team of that series would earn the Campbell Bowl and would be headed to the final series.
But despite our focus being on that for the next couple of weeks, four of us were at the children’s hospital to play wheelchair hockey with a group of kids—one of my other favorite things about playing in the NHL. And if the smiling faces were any indication, the kids appreciated us being here.
“How are you doing?”
Her smile grew wider. “My auntie Nala made me a pretty dress that she said makes me look like a princess, and I’m going to wear it at my uncle Chris’s wedding. I’m going