WAG for Hire

Toby should have been paying attention to what the professor was saying.

After all, he was going over the only question she had trouble with when she sat down the day before to finish her homework. However, instead of following along and discovering where she had gone wrong, she was focused on one thing – that night at 7:00p.m.

Jordan had called her right in the middle of her homework session to make sure she was still good with staging their ‘first date’ on Monday night. She readily agreed, thinking nothing of it.

Until now.

Now, she was on the verge of mental freak out.

What was going to happen? Would the press even notice them? Or would it all be in vain? Worse, what if the press did notice them? And took their picture? What if that picture ended up in the paper or spread across the internet? She couldn’t very well be caught in a good majority of what she owned. Well, not if she was supposed to be the girlfriend of a well-known hockey player. She would have to make something work – and the very thought boggled her overloaded brain.

“Ms. Cross?”

Toby’s head jerked automatically at her name and she came to realize her professor was standing at the front of the room, looking at her questioningly. She glanced around the room to see that others were filtering out. Apparently, class had ended and she hadn’t even noticed. “Sorry,” Toby said as she scrambled to write down the rest of the correct solution. She would have to figure out the method behind it later because she really didn’t think asking him to repeat what he had just spent ten minutes discussing would go over well. She closed her books, and stood, forcing herself to smile. “Have a good day,” she said as she made a hasty retreat for the exit.

Once she left the lecture room, Toby took a moment to put her books in her bag and slip into her coat. It had been cold that morning while she had waited for the bus and somehow she didn’t think a few hours had made much of difference. She watched as a group from her class walked by, laughing. She briefly considered going after them, sliding in amongst them, and joining in on their complaints about the workload.

But she knew she couldn’t – she was quite sure that she couldn’t name one person in the small group. They probably couldn’t name her. She didn’t think she could handle the awkward moment when they tried to act like they knew her and she tried back, all the while knowing it was fake. No, she couldn’t join them.

She watched them disappear out the door, moving as a cohesive herd across the courtyard. She was surprised at the measure of jealously she felt in that moment. Sighing, she slung her bag over her shoulder.

It’s not like she had time to act friendly anyway – she had a 'date' to get ready for.



Jordan was one of the first ones in the building and suited up for practice. A few days away had left him itching to return to what he loved. And he hoped by being there as his teammates filtered in fresh from a loss that he could show them he was back and fully committed to his team.

Flower was the next to arrive, throwing his bag unceremoniously in the general direction of his locker. His eyes fell on Jordan. “Well, Jordo, you’re not gonna pull that shit again, eh?”

“I’m sorry, Marc,” Jordan said sincerely.

“Hey, hey, don’t go crying over me like a little girl,” Flower shot back, settling himself beside the blonde. “Then I have to punch you in the fucking face.” He appeared to be thinking it over. “I might enjoy that. Apologize again.”

Jordan felt relieved that his friend was joking with him instead of storming in and yelling – or worse, not talking to him at all. “Fuck you,” Jordan shot back.

“Much better,” Flower leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “All I want from you is a promise that the next time you want to stick your hands up some pretty girl’s skirt, you’ll do it in the comfort of your own bedroom.”

“No worries, Flower,” Jordan said quietly. “No groping.”

“Christ, I didn’t say become a monk. I said do it somewhere where you won’t get caught,” Marc said as he opened one eye to look at Jordan. “Check for camera – then grope away.”

Jordan threw his head back and laughed. To anyone on the outside looking in, the conversation would seem absurd. But it was uniquely Marc – he seemed to have his own way with words. “Thanks for the advice.”

Flower clapped him hard on the back, causing him to lurch forward a little. “No problem. I figure since I am practically married I have to help you poor lost souls still who haven’t seen the light.”

“You just want to live the single life through us,” Jordan shot back.

Flower screwed his face up. “Think again, mon ami. Have you seen Vero?”

“Yes.”

The goalie’s reaction was immediate. “Stop fucking looking my girl, douche.”

Before Jordan could think of a decent come back, more teammates began to filter in. No one looked sour, and Jordan’s nerves over their reactions dissipated for good. Max, in particular, had a goofy grin on his face. “Staal, I am so glad to see you and Flower back together. If you are looking for a place for some makeup sex I volunteer my car.”

That got a few laughs and Jordan had a big grin on his face. “You’re all assholes.”

Bylsma chose that moment enter. All the men immediately fell silent upon seeing the grim look on their coach’s face. He surveyed the room, his eyes sweeping across Jordan to the next player. “All right boys, we got work to do. Although we managed to come back from looking like complete idiots, we still had our asses handed to us on Saturday night. That is not an experience I am willing to repeat.” There were a chorus if agreements from around the room. “That means I am going to work you hard. I hope you came ready.”

Jordan did.



It was well past five and the entire contents of her closest were spread out across her bedroom. Toby was actually surprised by the sheer amount of clothing she owned. She was not a big shopper, nor did she go running out when the new styles arrived. How she came to own it all was a mystery…although, she highly suspected she hadn’t actually gotten rid of anything since she was a teenager. The sweater with her high school logo currently draped across her lamp was proof of that.

She really only had two choices anyway.

Both were laid out on her bed and at the moment she was not happy with either of them. A floral print skirt and pink blouse – other possible leftovers of her high school days. And a black dress – simple, but she wondered if he would think she was going to a funeral.

She eyed the skirt/blouse combination and sighed. It was definitely a product of her teenage years and therefore too juvenile. Therefore the dress won by default. She picked it up from the bed, headed into the bathroom and hung it on the towel rack. She had to pick up the pace – he would be there in little over an hour.

Toby unwound the towel from her hair and let her damp locks fall free. Leave it down or put it up? She picked up a piece and sighed. Right now she would settle for anything but looking like a drowned rat.

A half an hour later, her hair was dry. It was also shiny, strategically laid out on her shoulders in waves. Not to mention nearly shellacked in place. She marveled that she had just spent that long on her hair – most day she just threw it in a ponytail as she headed out the door. Then again, most days she didn’t run the risk of being photographed.

Which meant she was going to have to be just as meticulous with her makeup. She dug out her meager collection of cosmetics and set to work. By the time she was done, she felt like a whole different person. It was amazing how much she could look like herself yet not.

She slipped into the dress, took a deep breath and hoped for the best. It still fit, although it was shorter than she remembered. Perhaps that was a good sign – she wouldn’t go dressed to a funeral in something that showed that much leg. She glanced down at the amount of pale flesh exposed and frowned. “Shoes,” she muttered as she wiggled her toes.

That was something she was definitely lacking in.

She groaned and headed back to the disaster zone that was now her bedroom. Somewhere under the mountain of clothing was a pair of black flats. She began to dig, aware that she was running out of time. Finally she located both under a rather comfy pair of sweatpants. Slipping into them, she immediately made a face. They didn’t work.

She supposed she shouldn’t care what shoes she had on her feet - she usually never did. But given the media’s tendency to rip everything to shreds, she was better off caring. She glanced at the clock – if he was on time he would be there in less than 10 minutes.

She needed a solution – and quick.



Jordan caught the door as a young blonde walked out. He was aware of her eyes on him as he stepped into the lobby. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that she was definitely interested – and perhaps a week ago he would have been too. But he was beginning to realize he established quite the destructive pattern for himself. A girl like that, with her blatant come hither look, only led to trouble.

He was going to break that pattern – starting tonight.

He rode the elevator to the fourth floor, and was surprised at how nervous he had become in the last five minutes. All day he had not worried one moment over the fake date – he had put in a wicked practice, went for lunch with a few of the boys, joked, laughed – but never once gave the night a second thought.

Now, standing in front of her door, he was a bundle of nerves. The consequences of the night were suddenly becoming apparent to him. If the press took the bait they dangled in front of them, he was suddenly responsible for maintaining the outward appearance of being in a nice stable relationship. If they didn’t or if for some reason, this blew up in his face spectacularly he could be facing the end of his relationship with Toby.

And to be honest, he needed a friend like her. If the past few days had taught him anything, he needed to have someone he could be honest with. He needed someone he could be serious with – the guys were easy to joke with but he couldn’t imagine himself sitting down across from Flower and pouring his heart out. Well, at least not without a few snide comments being thrown back at him.

He had meant what he had told Toby – she was easy to talk to. And she understood where he was coming from. He knew that was because she was struggling with things of her own. Although he hated to see her frustrated, he appreciated that he didn’t have to explain himself to her.

Jordan would hate to lose that.

Please let this work, he pleaded silently as he raised his hand to knock.

From within the apartment he heard a bang, followed by the muffled curse. “Toby?” He called, wondering for a split second if he would have to break down the door.

It opened before he could fully comprehend the idea. She stood there, eyes so wide, he thought of a deer facing oncoming headlights. “Jordan,” she said, sounding surprised, as if he arrived hours early instead of two minutes.

He was about to ask her if she was all right but the words caught in his throat. He blinked, taking in the sight of her. Short little black dress, hugged to her curves, with some sort of lace cover hiding her skin from him. Hair in waves, framing her face, makeup subtly done – not caked on, but accentuating what was already there.

And he thought the blonde in the lobby was trouble.

Jordan hadn’t expected to find her beautiful. Correction, he knew she was beautiful. She might not flaunt it like others but it was there. He just didn’t expect to be affected by it. She was giving him a questioning look and he realized he needed to pull himself together just as much as it appeared she did.

“Are you holding a pink shoe?”

It was a stupid first question, but a safe one until he was sure he was going to behave himself.

She looked down to where the shoe dangled off her pointer finger. The other was already on, giving her a rather lopsided appearance. It became clear to him that he had interrupted her putting on her shoes. “Uh,” Toby began before leaning down to put the other shoe on her foot. When she rose, they were closer to being eye to eye. “I’m not anymore.”

Jordan wondered if he was this painful when he asked Lisa Merchant to the prom in high school. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you ready to go?”

At the same time, she had asked. “Do you want to come in?”

Both laughed, and the tension broke. She stepped aside and he entered her apartment. On the table, he saw an open box marked “ODDS”. Various items were scattered on the surface, and a few on the floor as well. He turned and raised an eyebrow.

“The shoes,” Toby said as she shut the door. “They were part of a Halloween costume. I forgot I even had them until a few minutes ago. It was a bit of a mad dash to find them.” She walked past him to gather the things back into the box. When she was done she flipped the lid shut. “I don’t exactly have a lot of ‘date’ clothes. I guess I’ll have to make do with what I have, even if it was once part of a Barbie costume.”

“Barbie?”

“Even had a blonde wig,” Toby trailed off. He must be staring for she furrowed her brows together. “What?”

“I think you look fabulous,” Jordan said. He was glad he had chosen a crisp white shirt, black pants and tailored jacket to match. At least he stood a fighting chance of not looking like background noise next to her.

Toby ran the hands down the side of her dress, a movement that had him following the path she had created. When he met her eyes again, she looked apprehensive. “Jordan, this isn’t going to get weird is it? I mean, it’s already weird. Normal people don’t go around faking relationships on a daily basis. I just mean that we aren’t going to screw up this friendship we’ve got brewing here, are we? I don’t come across friends very often so I get sort of possessive of the ones I have. Does that make sense?”

Jordan nodded. He would have to be careful. She was a beautiful woman – but she was also his friend. He couldn’t leer at her like some dirty old man. She needed to be treated with respect. “Perfect sense,” he assured her. “We won’t mess this up. Not if we are sure that we talk. If I ever do something that crosses a line – let me know. I can behave despite evidence to the contrary.”

She seemed to relax, taking a deep breath as a slow smile spread across her face. “Good. I needed to hear that.”

“And with that, we have reservations.” Jordan offered her his arm. “Are you ready for this?”

“Not really but that has never seemed to stop me before.”