Home Ice (5 page)

That was entirely like Izzy to barge in and interrupt. Things were just getting good, too. Ally had been on the verge of knocking him off his skates with her suave charm and brilliant conversation.

Izzy waved a piece of paper in Ally’s face. “Look, I just got Dom “The Bomb” Devereaux’s phone number! We are going on a date,” she announced proudly.

Ally wedged herself into the car, wishing they were going back in the other direction. The only number on her mind was the Number 20.

Chapter Four

Dental Floss

As always, the Red Valley Mall parking lot was full. After the Razors’ practice, Izzy had begged Ally to go shopping with her and Ally had finally conceded. Reluctantly. It was Ally’s day off and she didn’t have anything else planned the rest of the day anyway. When they finally found a parking space, Ally wondered how any of these people could afford to be shopping at the mall. Lately, she found herself stretching her almighty dollar at the Everything Under 99 Cent Store.

“Why are we here again? You know how much I hate
the mall
.” Ally slammed the door of Izzy’s car shut. She said the word ‘mall’ like they were visiting ‘the proctologist’ or ‘the landfill’ or ‘the electric chair’.

“I have a date with Dominic, the cute hockey player, and I need some new lingerie.” Izzy locked the car and adjusted her outfit. With her sequined leggings, off-the-shoulder blouse and platform shoes, she looked like she was ready for a night of club-hopping with Paris Hilton.

“Iz, you have more clothes at home than you could ever wear in a lifetime,” Ally reminded her.

Ally knew all too well from a past experience of getting lost in one of Izzy’s three closets. Her fashion conscious friend had rows upon rows of every designer label imaginable. And that wasn’t even counting any of her shoes. Ah, the shoes. Platform, spiky, pointy and none less than four inches tall. Where Ally had her own clothes separated by tee shirts for work and tee shirts for days off, jeans for work and jeans for days off, Izzy had her wardrobe separated by season, color and designer. Because of Ally’s ‘uniform’ of black tees paired with blue jeans, Izzy often called her a walking bruise.

“I know. But I need something
really
sexy for Saturday. I don’t want this one to get away. Not just yet. He’s too hot and successful. And besides, confidence comes from what you are wearing
under
your clothes.”

“Right, because you are in such short supply of confidence.”

Izzy flashed her a glare and led them into ‘the mall’. She took off her Chanel sunglasses and placed them on her head like an expensive headband.

Once in the foyer, the smell of the food court, a mixture of hot pretzels and greasy Chinese food, filled their noses. The floors were polished to a glossy shine and pop music played from hidden speakers. Ally thought she would rather just pick something out at Target instead of coming in here. Too bad the 99 Cent Store didn’t carry clothes. The snobby mall sales people irritated her. She always felt judged by them as they looked her up and down when she went into a store.
Can I help you
?, they asked skeptically. All that Ally heard was
Are you sure you are good enough to shop here
?

Ally looked over at Izzy who was completely in her element.

“Remember in high school when we used to cruise the mall for cute boys?” Izzy asked as she craned her neck to look into the sports shop. She knew exactly where the boys liked to hang out.

“You still do!”

“For goodness sake, Ally, I’m not dead! What do you expect me to do when I see something I like?”

Ally shot her a look. “Well, for starters…”

Izzy didn‘t let her finish. “Don’t answer that. I‘m in no mood for one of your lectures.”

“So,” Ally shrugged and looked around at the plethora of shops in the mall. “What store are we going to find this sexy confidence at?”

“None other than Victoria’s Secret, of course.”

“Right.”

“I just need a few things in here first.” Izzy turned into a cosmetics boutique and made a beeline for the eyeliner. With hesitation, Ally followed her and was engulfed by the colorful palettes of makeup surrounding the inside of the store. She wandered the aisles of cosmetics and stopped at a wall of eye shadow and mascara. Scanning the cosmetics, Ally wondered if beauty could really be purchased in a compact or a bottle. She picked up a tube of mascara and examined it.

“Twenty-seven dollars for a tube of mascara?!” After realizing she said her thoughts out loud, she looked up to make sure nobody heard her. The coast was clear. Horrified, Ally thought of all the things she’d rather spend twenty-seven dollars towards. New glasses for Gram. Her gas tank. The electric bill. She quickly put the mascara back in its place on the shelf.

Within seconds, Izzy rejoined her with a black eyeliner pencil in hand.

“I thought you bought that stuff in bulk,” Ally teased.

“Haha. Why don’t you pick something out? My treat. Maybe it’ll help you get out of your slump.”

Ally looked at her in confusion. “What slump?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she slapped her knee, “You can’t have a slump when you never had anything going to begin with.” Izzy lowered her voice, then asked, “When’s the last time you felt the weight of a man on you?”

“Izzy, stop!” And she thought she was horrified a minute earlier about the mascara. “I’ve got way too much going on right now for that anyway.”

“What’s more important than sex?”

Ally narrowed her eyes at her elfin friend. “Let me see. Work. School. Family. Um,
everything
.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what you were missing out on. Honey, you have got to rework your priorities.”

Ally rolled her eyes without justifying her with a response.

“I’m serious.” Izzy put her hands on her hips.

“And so am I.”

Ally was more than ready to leave the store along with their conversation, so she turned around and scanned the nail polish display. It was like a paint chip display with every color of the rainbow.

“Here, your treat. Are you happy now?” Ally tossed a bottle of red nail polish at Izzy.

Izzy caught the bottle and studied her with skeptical black eyes. “The question is: Are
you
happy? Living as Sister Mary Katherine Chaste and Perfect?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m happy. Gram is in decent health, I have a good job and for the first time in my life I know what I want to be ‘when I grow up’,” Ally finished, satisfied with her answer.

Izzy wasn’t satisfied. “You live like some kind of hermit-spinster hybrid,” she said with disgust. “You think a night out is taking Gram to get her blood pressure checked at the supermarket and you haven’t had a date in God knows when!”

Ally threw up her arms with a humph. “And you say
I’m
the negative one!”

“I’m sorry to be so harsh, but I’m your best friend. And if I don’t point this stuff out to you, then who will?”

“No one. And that would be just fine with me.”

Izzy wheeled Ally around to the mirror at the end of the eye shadow aisle. “Look at yourself. Tell me what you see in the mirror.”

Ally looked at the reflection staring back at her. She blinked and saw tired eyes sitting in the middle of the pale face that had always appeared in the mirror on the rare occasions when she actually looked in one. Without any makeup, which she rarely wore, her full lips and cheeks were pale. With her blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail, the only thing standing out on her face were two hauntingly blue eyes.

Ally bit down on her bottom lip. “I see a girl in need of a new best friend.”

“That’s right. To the first part,” Izzy clarified. “A
girl
. You are
not
the old maid you make yourself out to be. You are young and pretty and the only association you need with maids is a French maid costume, honey. Because you are a lot hotter than you give yourself credit for. Women would
die
to have your blonde bombshell of a body.”

“But, I’m a size---”

Izzy put her hand up to stop her. “You have the height to pull it off, Miss Hourglass Figure.”

“Okay, okay. What’s your point?”

“My point is that you’re too sexy to be hiding under Hanes and you need to get laid.”

“Izzy, quit being such a Samantha.” Samantha had always been Izzy’s favorite
Sex and the City
character. So much so, that she had practically molded herself after her. From the skimpy outfits to the constant stream of different men in her life.

Izzy pointed her eyeliner at Ally. “And you are definitely the Charlotte to my Samantha.”

Ally‘s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m just so busy, Izzy. I barely have time to brush my teeth.”

“Well, thank God you’ve managed to keep
that
up,” Izzy said, dodging a slap coming from Ally’s direction. “Men appreciate a woman who keeps up her dental hygiene. Please,” Izzy begged, “just promise to stop selling yourself short. And make an effort. If not for me, then for yourself.”

Ally thought about it and finally agreed.

“Okay.” Izzy waved the red nail polish in the air. “Now it’s time to shop for some body candy!”

After paying for their cosmetics, they walked to the lingerie store at the other end of the mall. Izzy’s eyes lit up when they neared her favorite store. Victoria’s Secret. The Mecca of all things sexy. In the window was a floor to ceiling sized poster of a model wearing nothing but a thong. She was holding her hands over her bare breasts with her lips puckered and her long hair was fanned out around her.

What lingerie are they advertising?
Ally wondered.
She’s half naked!

The salesperson who greeted them must have come from the same gene pool as the model in the window. She had long, wavy hair extensions that fell to her super tiny waist and her flimsy blouse was unbuttoned to show ample cleavage and a glimpse of her lacy bra.

That’s one way to display the merchandise.

Izzy told the Glamazon model what she was looking for and they were led to a rack of colorful bras and panties. Izzy began shuffling through the racks “oohing and aahing“ at everything. She excitedly held up a red demi bra lined with delicate pink lace for Ally to see.

“What do ya think?”

Ally forced a smile and then looked around wondering where the bras for
real women
were kept. There seemed to be nothing under a size 4 in the entire store.

Hey Giselle! An ‘A’ size cup isn’t gonna cut it, over here
, Ally chuckled to herself.

Izzy shoved a miniscule thong in Ally’s face. “Oooh, this is cute, don’t ya think?”

“Yeah, Iz. Real cute. I couldn’t even fit my big toe into that.”

“Come on. You need to pick something out, too. Again, it’s my treat. What if you meet the man of your dreams wearing granny panties?” Izzy said with a mixture of horror and concern.

At that moment, the Number 20 crept back into Ally‘s mind and she promptly pushed it away. “Well, then, he’d just have to deal with it because I’m not subjecting myself to the torture of wearing dental floss all day.”

“I can’t believe you. What kind of attitude is that to have? You are only going to be young and beautiful once in your life. You shouldn‘t waste it wearing one hundred percent cotton.” Izzy shivered at the thought.

* * *

Ally returned home from Izzy’s spending spree feeling depressed. She liked her life, but Izzy loved to point out everything that was wrong with it. Ally knew she was just trying to help, but it wasn’t helping her at all. She slipped off her shoes in the living room and went to check on Gram. Peeking into her room, she saw that she was taking a nap, so she went into her own room and logged onto the internet to see what was going on in the world. Somehow, she found herself at the Red Valley Razors homepage. It was funny how off track someone could get by randomly clicking away on the internet.

“Buy your tickets today to see them raze the Illinois Warriors tomorrow night!”

She clicked on the roster and found Forward, Number 20. Benjamin Price. Ben. That was a nice name. It felt good to put a name with the face. And number. He looked like a Ben. Nice and solid and strong. Nice chocolate brown eyes you could stare into forever. Nice solid arms with tight rippling muscles. Nice strong, firm legs and thighs. She blinked herself back into reality. Oh, wait. This
was
reality. He was talking to
her
just a few hours ago!

Ally scrolled through his stats, which happened to be quite impressive compared to those of his teammates. Every article she came across praised his talent and success. They chronicled his career from the minor leagues to the present. His hometown was Denver, Colorado. He had played hockey in college before he was drafted by the Razors five years ago. He was 6’2” and weighed 195 lbs and was 27 years old. His whole life story was right there on the screen.

Then an awkward feeling unnerved Ally’s stomach. She felt strange looking up information on him online. That was part of the blessing and the curse of the internet. A person could do everything (well,
almost
everything), from the confines of their own home, without ever leaving or actually speaking to another human being. Just a few clicks and someone could find out just about anything about just about everything. And everyone. But now, Ally was feeling a bit like a creepy stalker. She wanted there to be
some
mystery left about him.