‘One of the reasons I prefer to take client meetings in private is for the very thing that just happened. It’s New York, for feck’s sake; there’s always someone around to see something you don’t want them to see. That’s also why I asked to have our conversations somewhere other than a bar.’

‘OK, so maybe next time we could maybe meet at your place or … ’

‘I’m staying at a friend’s,’ she said quickly, while Ward tried to ignore why he wasn’t outright resistant to the idea of another meeting with her. ‘Why not set up something at your secret lair?’

He let out a surprised laugh. ‘Secret lair? Now you’re making me sound like a Marvel supervillain.’

‘Well, actually you’re wrong because Marvel doesn’t have any supervillains. DC’s the one with the supervillains. Marvel’s got the best heroes but DC’s got the best villains.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t tell me you’re a comic book nerd too … ’

‘I am, as it happens – and thanks a million for calling them “comic books”,’ she said in a distinct Irish accent this time, and the smile in her voice made him smile too. ‘I hate when people say graphic novels like they’re trying to make them sound more … edgy or something. Pretentious. If you’re embarrassed to be a comic book nerd, then get away from around me.’

‘You might be the first woman I’ve ever met who took such an impressive stance on comic books … ’ he chuckled. ‘And hey, I’m sorry for earlier, I shouldn’t have taken off like that. And for how I spoke to you, I was out of line and … I get that you’re just trying to help, it’s just … ’ Ward reddened. He really was out of practice at this nice-guy stuff.

‘No apology needed. I understand. But maybe you need to understand that I’ve no time for people who portray themselves as something they’re not. So now that we’re being honest, Ward McKenzie,’ Hannah challenged, laying down the biscuit, ‘deep down, which one are you: graphic novel, or comic book?’

Chapter 20

Hannah’s parting words rang in Ward’s ears long after the call ended. He never lacked for words – on or off the ice; he was the epitome of a chirper. Except for right then.

Graphic novel or comic book.

Was she right? Had he purposely created this overly macho, alpha-goon persona? When he’d first turned pro, his coach had drilled in the notion that the slightest show of weakness at face-off meant that your opponent already had you even before the puck hit the ice.

It was a lesson he’d taken to heart and had pretty much lived by ever since.