Hot Adventures With The Hockey Star
The air inside smelled of sweet maple syrup and fresh coffee, and the soft hum of old country music playing from the jukebox immediately settled my frayed nerves.
We sat in a vinyl booth near the back, bathed in the warm, amber glow of a neon sign. Mark was the perfect gentleman. He noticed the way my eyes glazed over the menu and took charge, ordering us a mountain of chocolate chip pancakes and two hot mugs of coffee.
"So," Mark said, leaning his forearms on the table, a charming, boyish grin on his face. "If we’re going to be partners in crime this season, I need to know the important stuff. What's State’s secret tactical weapon’s favorite movie?"