Team Dinner

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My phone buzzed again and I pondered ignoring it. Was this call really worth delaying my meal? Maybe; it could be someone important. But if it was only a sales call, the telemarketer on the other end would be getting an earful from me. "Hello?" I answered.

"Hey, Coach," Sidney Crosby's Canadian accent came through the speaker.

"Oh. Hey, Sidney, what's up?" I asked, semi-disappointed that I didn't get to bitch anyone out.

"Oh?" He chuckled, "Expecting someone else?"

"I was expecting a sales call and I was prepared to make them regret calling and interrupting my search for somewhere to eat."

"Oh," now he sounded disappointed.

"What?" I said.

"I was going to invite you to come meet me and the guys for dinner, but you've already got dinner."

"I'm searching for dinner. I'd love to come with you guys. Where are you going?" I replied.

"Excellent! I'll tell the guys! See you in-"

"Crosby!" I cut him off.

"What?" He asked.

"Where are you all going?" I said slowly.

"Oh," he laughed a little, "we're going to a restaurant called Eleven on Smallman in the Strip District."

"Okay, see you soon."

"Bye, Erin," Sidney hung up.

I clicked out of the phone app on my iPhone and googled the restaurant. I whistled quietly to myself. It was pricey and called for dressy attire. I looked down at myself. I really couldn't get away with jeans and a Penguins Coaching Staff polo. I ran to my room and dug through my closet. It wasn't a straight up bar, could I get away with a little black dress? No, no I definitely could not; especially after I just told them I wasn't a puck bunny. Instead of the dress I grabbed a classy black pencil skirt and a light pink blouse. It was the only pink thing I owned. I slid into some black heels; God I hated them. Making sure my hair was acceptable, I grabbed a purse, my wallet, and my keys and headed out the door.

I pulled up in front of the restaurant. There was no where for me to park. I furrowed my brow. What the hell? Did all the guys walk? Then I saw the guy walking toward me. Valet. Holy shit, this place was fancier than I had thought. I got out and gave him the keys. I walked in and was greeted immediately by a perfectly preened hostess. "Hi, miss," she said. She was way too peppy.

"Hi, I think I'm looking for-"

"You're here with the hockey players, aren't you?" She sounded so envious.

"Yes, wait, how'd you know?"

"They said there was one more coming. A girl. Right this way please." I shrugged and followed her out onto the patio where the guys were laughing. "Here you are," she set a menu at my seat between Sid, who was at the head of the table, and Bennett, who was sitting to my right. "What can I get you to drink?" A waitress who appeared from thin air asked.

"May I have a Shirley Temple, please?" I asked.

"Certainly," she flashed a dazzling smile at the guys and left, returning a moment later with my drink. The guys had stopped talking and were staring at me. "Surprise?" I said, shooting Sidney a dark look.

"Hi, Coach" Bennett finally said.

I smiled, thankful someone had said something. "We're out of the arena, Bennett, please call me Erin. That goes for all of you, too," I said turning to face the rest of them.

The Road to the Cup ~ Wattys 2015Where stories live. Discover now