Because Kiefer worked a lot of early mornings, Fedora sometimes didn’t see him for a couple of days, but on the wonton making day, she got home after her shift at Hat Trick just as he was getting ready for bed.

“How was work?” she asked.

“Same old, same old. We ran out of pastry bags and stoppers again and I’m going to have a talk with the shift leads again about ordering. One shift lead in particular. I swear to God, it’s not rocket science, people. You know that saying ‘it’s hard to find good help these days?’ It’s so true, so true. How was your day? No wait. How was the other night? Jeez, I haven’t talked to you since the pretend date. Was Cole bowled over? Did you get a picture of his face?”

“Only in my brain. I didn’t have my phone out, but it was glorious. He could not have been more surprised.”

Kiefer glanced at her for a moment then got himself a glass of water. “I know it’s a couple days later so the triumph would have worn off some by now, but there’s something you’re not telling me.”

She got up, took his glass and set it aside. “We need beer for this conversation.”

“Oh goody,” he said as she pulled two Saucer Passes out of the fridge. One of the perks of working for Hat Trick was a free six-pack every two weeks.

They settled on the couch and Fedora told him about the hello kiss that she’d laid on Cole and the good-bye one he’d given her in return.

“It was smoking hot, Kief. I didn’t expect that. And now Pandora’s Box is open and I can’t put that out of my mind.”

“Well that’s interesting. Are you going to scratch that itch?” He elbowed her playfully. “It’s been a while since I heard sex noises coming from your room.”

She gave him a look.

“What? The walls are thin.”

“It’s not that. It’s the fact that he’s my boss.”

“Oh shit. Sorry. I forgot about Mason. You know, you’re right,” Kiefer said. “Best not to mix business with pleasure. He probably sucks in bed anyway.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, remembering how strong and assertive Cole’s kiss had been and how much it had turned her on. It might have been an accumulation of all the touches and looks they’d exchanged during dinner, but it also might have been that moment when he’d turned his focus on her and announced that a goodnight kiss was forthcoming. The heat from his gaze had been almost palpable.

“I mean, he was a pro athlete, right? With dozens, maybe hundreds of women throwing themselves at his feet wherever he went, he probably didn’t have to hone his skills at all. There was always someone new in the wings.”

“Maybe.” That was a disturbing concept, a revolving door of willing women. Honestly, Cole didn’t seem like a lazy, selfish person but maybe it was better to think that of him so she wasn’t so tempted to find out for real. The amount of raw desire she’d felt when he kissed her indicated he was an amazing lover, but Mason had turned her on too, and look where that had landed her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Regardless of his skill level, I’m not jumping into bed with him. My job is worth more than a few paltry orgasms. Oh, and speaking of orgasms, guess who’s going to Jade West on Friday night?”

Kiefer whooped. “I have plans on Friday, but I’ll cancel.”

She shoved him playfully. “Not you. Me. Cole’s mom has reservations and she invited me to come along.”

“That’s really nice of her. Is she rich?”

“No idea, but she’s really nice and a great teacher, by the way.”

Kiefer blinked. “I forgot about that. Please tell me you brought home some wonton.”

“It’s in the—”

But he was already heading for the fridge.

When Ruth’s friend Sarah called Cole, she fell all over herself thanking him for volunteering.

He put her on speaker phone because he was in the act of feeding Harry, who liked to insinuate himself in and around Cole’s hands, making it hard to open the can and scoop out the food that Harry so desperately wanted.

“You’re welcome. It’s for a good cause,” he said, setting Harry’s bowl down.

“I’m afraid we’ve run out of dinner date donations. We try hard not to burden the bachelors with having to pay for the dates out of pocket. It’s enough that they’re donating their own time for this. You don’t happen to know of any restaurants that might donate dinner-for-two for your date, do you? Or some fun activity, like whale watching or something?”

He glanced down at Harry, who was already finished and cleaning his face. Idly, Cole wondered what the Guinness world record was for fastest feline scarfer.

“As a matter of fact, I do. Have you heard of Hat Trick Brewery?”

“Yes, I have. I keep meaning to go there. I hear the food is really good. The beer too, but I’m not a beer drinker.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m one of the owners and we’d be happy to donate a dinner to the cause.”

“Oh my gosh. That’s great! Ruth didn’t tell me that you owned Hat Trick Brewery.”

“Did she mention I used to play for the NHL?”

“She did mention that.” He thought he heard a smile there.

“So I’m sure I can get some tickets to a game too.”

“Cole that sounds absolutely perfect! We had a hockey date last year and it was very popular.”

“Great.”

“I’ll think we’ll call your date Fun on Ice. Now, as for the night of, you can basically wear whatever you want, but we suggest that you dress for success, like you might for a night on the town. FYI, the bids come in higher for men in suits.”

“Gotcha.”

“Or, gimmicks go over well too. Like we had a brain surgeon last year that walked the stage in scrubs and a mask that he later took off. Kilts are guaranteed to make them swoon. And this is going to sound weird, but facial hair is in right now, a little more than a five o’clock shadow. I’m not sure what that’s about. Maybe the dichotomy between the slick looking clothes and the scruffy face? I don’t know. I prefer the clean-shaven look myself.”

When Cole’s team had qualified for the playoffs, his traditional playoff beard had always grown in satisfyingly full and because shaving was not his favorite activity, he knew he could go two days before it started turning Sasquatch. Over the past five years or so, parts of it had begun to come in silver, along with his temples. He liked it, felt it made him look more dignified.

“So, I have a stupid question.”

“You’re worried about not getting bids,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“How did you know?”

“Everyone is afraid of that. Don’t worry. We’ve never had zero bids on a bachelor.”

“How many years have you been doing this?”

“Well, only three, but still. We have volunteers ready to start the bidding, just in case, and the auctioneer knows how to make it sound like the winning lady is getting a real bargain, even if there is only one bid.”

That did not sound encouraging, but it wasn’t as if he could back out. He was committed. He told himself it would be worth it just for the publicity for Hat Trick.