Page 50 of The Big Puck

“You’ll be back, right?”

I nod.

“Good. Just as well because I have some work to do, too. I’m looking forward to the game tonight and going out afterwards, though.”

“Me, too.” No need to explain she’s hitching a ride with Lainey now.

I grab my keys, and she gives me the kind of good-bye kiss that promises a hell of a lot more later. Shit. I hope I’m ready for it. I really do.

But something tells me hope for me and Shonda has gone the way of goalies playing the game without masks. Past its time and all for the better.

* * *

When I get back, we have lunch, and I change into a suit and tie while I feel the adrenaline building as if I’m going to take the ice myself tonight. I should, but I don’t rein it in. I need to be on the same level as my players. Coming down the stairs, I find all the ladies, including Krissy, in the living room.

Lainey whistles—a wolf whistle—and scares the baby. “I’m sorry,” she says to me and the baby, but her smile says she’s not. Shonda puts her tablet down and comes to me.

“You look stunning, honey.” She puts her arms around my neck and I have no choice but to wrap my arms around her, all too aware of Lainey watching.

“Knock them dead tonight.” She gives me a ridiculously over the top kiss good-bye, audience or not, a one-sided show that I not only don’t enjoy but makes me more uncomfortable than I can remember being while kissing a woman. Ever.

* * *

I’m back in the locker room after a brief skate and team meeting when Gavonza comes inside.

“I’d like to say a few words to the team.”

“I don’t suppose I can stop you since it’s your team.”

He snorts. “That’s what I like about you, Coach—and there aren’t many things I can say I like—but you don’t pretend. You’re not afraid of confrontation, are you?”

“I’m a hockey player.” I give him one of those smiles reserved for one’s enemy—I think of it as the shark smile, all bared teeth and dead eyes. I turn to the room and blow my whistle, getting everyone’s attention. “Men, listen up. Mr. Gavonza has a few words.”

He gives me a look, I think it’s respect, and stands on a bench to speak.

“It’s the first pre-season game tonight, the first game for our brand-new team. There’s a full house out there waiting to watch and cheer you on, fans before you even take the ice because Portsmouth is excited to have their first professional sports team. The Mayor is here, as well as the Governor and other guests, like coaches and players from UNH.

“They’re all here for you. We’re all here to watch you play and put on a great show. Go get them, Whalers.”

There’s a smattering of applause and some cheers and a few whistles. I remain stoic with my arms folded across my chest. Why should I change now for the likes of Gavonza?

He climbs down from the bench, and as soon as he leaves, I silence the room again with a wave of my hand. It’s like my hand is a fucking magic wand. To a man, they go still and listen.

“Forget everything he said because none of it matters. Not if we don’t win. We’re not here to put on a show. We play for the fans, and the true fans want us to win. We want to win. Every. Single. Time. Even a pre-season game. Nail that attitude to your souls. It starts tonight.”

This time, the uproar fills the room, and the energy goes through the roof. I soak it in and then leave them to their business of last-minute preparations—stretching, taping, and dressing.

Gavonza is outside the locker room in the hallway as I step outside, and he glares at me.

“I heard you. Forget everything I said? How dare you undermine me with the team?”

“Undermine you? How? You’re not the fucking coach, Gavonza. You’re the owner, and it’s not like I told them to go on strike or to throw the game. In fact, just the opposite. The team and I are working very hard to protect your investment by winning. Because this is professional sports and that’s what counts. Winning.” I heave a breath and lower my voice, realizing I’d gotten loud and hoping to fucking hell that no one in the locker room heard me.

He glowers at me, his face red.

I draw a deep breath and lower my voice. “You have a problem with that?”

“Don’t push it, Coach, or I won’t wait until the end of the season to replace you.”