The Crease: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance Page 7

  “I was a good coach,” Bernie insisted, panic bursting through with the words. “Whatever else happened, I produced winning teams. The stats speak for themselves. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again. Right here, in Rochester. Lord Stanley has been elusive for you, Sheehan. Don’t tell me having that piece of hardware gracing your trophy case isn’t on the bucket list for you. If it wasn’t, you still wouldn’t be sinking millions of dollars into this operation.”

  “True. But you’re not applying for a coaching job, are you? There’s a hell of a lot more to being a COO than running drills and supervising the bench. This is a men’s league, Bern. No more rub and tug with your young hopefuls on a road trip. I have plenty of other candidates besides you, better known and more respected. If you’re not willing to negotiate, don’t waste my time.”

  Bernie sighed in resignation and slumped into the luxurious leather chair. “Spell it out, Sheehan. What exactly do you want me to do?”

  Murphy smiled in satisfaction and slipped a hand down to his belt. Unfortunately, Bernie knew what he meant but didn’t know if he could go through with it. He wasn’t his type.

  But Sheehan had too much on him. He held everything in the palm of his evil hand. Only the thought of being caged behind bars, causing embarrassment and pain to his friends and family drove him forward, lowered him to his knees.

  Sheehan’s proclivities were well-known throughout the seedy underbelly of professional sports. Since the man had more money than Croesus, he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

  To anyone.

  “You know what to do. I only hire someone if they possess a multitude of talents that might prove useful to me. It’s an interview, after all. I have to make an informed decision.”

  ***

  Kylie sat at her desk, feeling uncharacteristically listless and fidgety. Under normal circumstances and with adequate sleep, she’d be charging her way through her workday with one goal in mind – impressing her new boss, Barbara, and getting the woman on her side. Images flashed on an endless loop. Images of Shredder. Then, Denny. Her errant mind raced everywhere but work. Worry over the events of last night plagued her. How long had Denny been following her? Watching her? She felt creeped out beyond description, thinking of all the times he might have been peering through her window or tailing her as she went to the mall or the gym. What if she hadn’t been with Shredder and walked home alone? What if he’d been inside the gym during naked hot yoga?

  She felt safe with Shredder. He was the best, most interesting guy she’d ever met, and he’d probably never call her again after she’d slammed the door, figuratively, in his handsome face. Karma was really kicking the shit out of her these days. She sighed, thinking about Eloise’s negative aura when she was upset over Cole. Her own aura must look like a thundercloud right about now when it normally resembled an indigo sky. She made a mental note to attend some meditation sessions at the studio. Or an aura cleansing. Or maybe dye her hair again – the color her aura should be. That was usually good for a major Karma shakeup.

  She jumped involuntarily as Barbara’s door swished open and her head snapped to attention. Time to quit her belly aching and focus.

  “Morning, Barbara,” she said, grabbing her day planner and leafing through the pages in an attempt to look busy.

  “Morning, Kylie.”

  Barbara looked a bit overwhelmed, and Kylie realized she hadn’t spent much time getting to know her new boss. It was never easy taking on a new position with new responsibilities. She resolved to get with the program so she could anticipate Barbara’s needs before she even knew she had them and be her go-to girl, just like she had for El.

  “Hey, you look like you could use a pick-me-up. I’ve got just the thing,” Kylie said, pushing back from her desk and heading to the coffee maker. “I’ve got a special recipe I think you’ll like.”

  “Thanks, Kylie. You’re right, I could use a little booster. I’ve just gotten some news that might require some fortification on both our parts.”

  “Oh? What’s that?” Kylie asked as she began to concoct Eloise’s favorite half and half brew. She missed doing that. She missed Eloise too but reminded herself that nothing stayed the same forever. Growth only came with change.

  Barbara shook her head as though trying to clear the cobwebs from it, then took a deep breath. “Sheehan Murphy has appointed Bernie Griffiths as the new COO. Looks like we’ll have to order that Lysol spray by the case.”

  Kylie laughed at their shared joke but knew it was no laughing matter. She finished with her coffee creation and offered it to Barbara.

  “I thought it was Lou’s decision,” she said. “I really respect and admire Lou. I thought he’d come through for us on this. It can’t be the best choice for the team. Didn’t you think Lou would go in a different direction?”

  “I did,” Barbara said, nodding her agreement and taking the tall steaming mug. “This looks delicious, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome. You must know Sheehan pretty well, having been his PA. What do you think this means?”

  “I’m not sure, but if Sheehan’s calling the shots again, you can bet there’s something in it for him. I thought after Eloise left…well, let’s just say I thought that Sheehan would step back. I’m sorry to report that hasn’t happened to the extent I’d hoped. Working for him for so many years in close proximity, I’ve come to the conclusion he’ll stop at nothing to get his way. Lou’s a great guy and a great manager, but he prefers to focus on the players and leave the corporate stuff to others.”

  “Hmm. Probably not the wisest philosophy, but it does pay to stick to what your best at, I suppose.”

  Barbara nodded and took a sip from her mug. “Wow. Well, you’re certainly good at this,” she said, tipping the cup in a small salute. “I hope you stick to it. Tastes as good as it looks. I hope I keep finding out your hidden talents as we get to know each other better.”

  “Glad you like it.” Kylie smiled and headed for her desk. “It was Eloise’s favorite.”

  “You two were good friends?” Barbara asked, following her to the outer office and making herself comfortable in one of the reception chairs.

  Kylie sighed, knowing she’d let her relationship with Eloise grow larger than it should have, but didn’t regret a minute of it. Every single day, she missed Eloise first and enjoyed her job second. Underneath her buttoned-up exterior had lived a PR tigress and a loyal friend and confidante. Except she’d never told Eloise about her past. Some things were just better left behind, no matter how much you trusted someone with your secrets.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll miss her too,” Barbara admitted. “But a young girl like you must have a ton of friends, right? Family nearby?”

  Kylie fidgeted with her computer mouse, bringing the screen to life. “Sure. Some friends. Not really any family.” Hearing the words out loud made her flinch inwardly. At least none that I’ve met. “How about you?”

  “Ah, you’re changing the subject,” Barbara said, a wry grin crossing her fair features that were framed by bobbed blonde hair. Kylie pegged her for forty-something. A bit old for a personal assistant. And how many PA’s had suitable credentials to be considered for a director’s position? “I have grown children; I live alone. I’m a widow.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Barbara cocked her chin in dismissal. “Not at all. I’m quite happy with my life. Especially now that I’ve been promoted. This work is really satisfying. It gets old doing the same thing for years. I’ve always loved a challenge.”

  “What did you do before coming to work with the Riot?”

  “I have a Master’s in Social Work,” Barbara replied, taking a thoughtful sip of coffee. “I loved working with people, but it became very draining after ten years or so. The systems and laws in place don’t always make it easy to give the kind of help needed. And boy, is there a lot of help needed. When you see the kids lost in the system with no hope of a better fu
ture…that breaks your heart in a way I can’t even explain.”

  “Really?” Kylie’s mind began to churn. “You worked with adoptions, foster care, stuff like that?”

  “Some of the time. Other times it was counseling, administration for shelters, and relief efforts.” She cocked her head at Kylie. “You considering a career change? You seem happy here.”

  “I am happy here, but…funny you should have a background in that. I…” Kylie broke off, warning bells going off in her head.

  You weren’t going to be friends with the boss again, remember? Don’t do it, Rose. Don’t go there. Don’t go over to the dark side. Once the line has been crossed, you can’t go back.

  “Yes?”

  What the hell. Maybe Barbara needed a friend too. Kylie hissed in a deep breath and went for it. After all, she’d known Barbara as long as she’d worked at the Riot and when people were frauds, which made the rounds of office gossip.

  “I recently have made some inquiries into finding my birth mother,” Kylie admitted and searched the older woman’s face for empathy or malice. Empathy won.

  Barbara set her cup down so she could cover Kylie’s hand with her own warm and soft one. “Really? You were adopted?”

  Kylie clamped her lips shut. Now you’ve stepped in it. How to explain what really happened without sounding like a complete loser. Unwanted and abandoned. “Not exactly. I was raised in foster homes until I was old enough to run away, skirt the system and hit the streets. By some miracle, I stayed in high school and got really good grades. Then I went to college on a full ride scholarship and lived in residence. Now I have my own place.”

  “So you don’t have much to go on, huh?” Barbara made a clucking sound with her tongue.

  Kylie glanced over then shook her head sadly. The look in Barbara’s eyes made her want to cry. She instituted some rapid blinking and swallowed hard. She’d never cried at work, and she wasn’t going to start now. How unprofessional. Such an action would make it impossible for her to ever apply for a future promotion and Kylie wanted nothing more than to move up in the organization. She was capable of so much more. She always had been even though most wrote her off as flighty and weird.

  Barbara’s brow furrowed in thought. “Let me make some inquiries. Can you give me some names of your former foster parents?”

  “Of course.” Kylie’s heart raced with renewed hope. Maybe she finally had someone in her corner who could actually help her. If she could only find her birth mother, maybe she wouldn’t feel so lost in the world. Things changed once you knew where you came from. “You’d do that?”

  Barbara shrugged one shoulder. “I can’t promise I’ll find what you’re looking for, but I’m willing to give it a try. I still have connections in the industry. So it’s Kylie Rose…do you have a middle name?”

  Uh-oh. Entering the Danger Zone. Hot as her naked yoga class. Damn. She had to trust someone, and Barbara looked like a safe bet. “No. Uh, my friends call me Kyles, by the way.”

  Barbara smiled. “Kyles it is. My friends call me Bubs.”

  “Bubs?” Kylie repeated, unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s awesome.”

  Barbara joined in her laughter. “And we thought the names the players give each other were lame, huh?” She rose from her chair and turned toward her office. “I have some work to finish, but let’s continue this conversation over lunch tomorrow. Sound good, Kyles?”

  “Sounds fantastic, Bubs.”

  ***

  Standing before the bathroom mirror, Shredder glided the twin blades over the contours of his skull in a smooth, practiced stroke. It didn’t take him more than five minutes to shave his head, if he kept up a daily routine. An extra five to do the beard and mustache. He’d considered letting the latter grow once in a while, but visions of the Duck Dynasty crew always held him back. He relegated the facial hair to playoff season and no more. As for his head, he just found it more convenient to be sans hair while wearing his goalie mask.

  He nearly severed a blood vessel as the bathroom door opened and bumped his elbow. “Hey,” he shouted, lowering his razor into the sink. “Watch it. Knock first or something, man. You just about caused a bloody trip to the ER.”

  “Sorry, Shred,” Cole said. “When you gotta go, you gotta go. You just about done?”

  “Yeah, gimme a sec.”

  He rinsed the disposable razor under the tap then tossed it in the wastebasket. He had no qualms about sharing an apartment with Cole Fiorino, his best friend on the team. They’d known each other since Junior, both graduated from Boston College, and unmarried players were often roomed together until they decided on permanent residences. When Cole joined the team, he offered to bunk with him immediately until he found his own place. He toweled his face and head and opened the door to exit and let Cole in.

  “It’s all yours, man,” he said.

  The pair exchanged places. It seemed ludicrous for two very well-paid professional athletes to have to share a bathroom, but Shred didn’t really mind. It made him feel part of the normal human race instead of separated from it by the often lonely distinctions of wealth and class. At home, his personal bathroom looked like the tarmac at JFK. He should have shocked his mother and tried to actually land a plane in it.

  “Thanks,” Cole said.

  “How was Florida, by the way?” Shredder asked.

  “Fucking great,” Cole answered. “I’ve got some news. Hang on a sec,” he said, shooing him out the door.

  Shredder obliged and went to his room to get dressed. When the Riot lost out in the Stanley Cup semi-finals, the team was naturally disappointed but ready for a well-deserved rest. Cole had taken his new girlfriend, Eloise, on vacation in Florida for two weeks, but Shredder hadn’t talked to him much since his return. He wondered what his news could be. As for himself, his “vacation” consisted of waiting to hear when Dr. Haines could schedule his new laser surgery. It wouldn’t be long before training camp started again, and he was counting on the procedure being done well before then. Money talked, but was the Doc listening?

  “Hey, man,” Cole said as he met up with Shredder in the living room. “Guess what? Got the nod today from Team USA,” he said with a grin. “I’m going to the World Cup.”

  Shredder’s eyebrows shot up. “Right on,” he said, raising his hand for a high-five. “That’s fucking-A, man, congrats.” The World Cup of Hockey was right up there with the Olympics and the Spengler Cup; only the best players were invited, and Cole certainly fit in that category. Shred’s roomie was first class all the way. He was a shoe-in all along, and his official selection only confirmed what the league already knew. “When do you go?”

  Cole inhaled a deep breath, his chest inflating in visible pride in himself. “Not until the end of August. Plenty of time to hit the links before then. How’s your drive coming along? I heard you and Jones cut up the fairway last week. Can you say shoe size divot?”

  Shredder waved off the comment. “Nah, you were misinformed. It wasn’t that bad. I played okay. Nothing to write home about. For some reason, I found it hard to focus.”

  Yeah. Because all you could think about were Kylie Rose’s rosy nipples. In your mouth.

  Cole laughed. “Like I said, we’ve got a few months to work on that.” When his laughter faded, his expression turned serious. “El and I had a great time in Florida. Found out her sister is getting married, she’s real excited.”

  “She’s got sisters?”

  “Two of ‘em. Hey, one of them still’s single. I should fix you up. She’ll be going to Columbus to help organize the wedding next year. Anyway, we talked and, well, you know she’s leaving the Riot.”

  Shredder nodded. “I heard. Thanks to you,” he chided good-naturedly.

  “What I wanted to say was, we’ve decided to move in together when I’m back from World Cup. Looks like you’ll be in the market for a new roommate.”

  Shredder couldn’t really say he was surprised, but also couldn’t help feeling he was losin
g a good friend in the process. What did he expect? Few people stayed single forever.

  “She’s the one, eh?” he asked, nodding in approval. Eloise Robertson was definitely marriage material. “All the best.”

  “Thanks. Well, gotta go. Meeting some contractors about renovating the Blues & Brews. Catch you later,” Cole said, heading for the door. He pivoted and pointed at Shredder on his way out. “Book us a tee time this weekend, right? I’m going to be in need of some bro time.”

  “Will do.”

  Shred shoved his oversized hands in his pockets as he watched Cole leave, a flicker of envy in his eyes. His fingers touched a forgotten piece of paper and pulled it out. With a frown, he re-read Kylie’s business card with her personal work number on it. He said he’d call her, but he hadn’t. Unlike Cole, he had no idea where he stood with this girl. Usually ultra-confident, Shred didn’t like feeling like he stood on shaky ground. All it would take is a little tremor, and he’d fall into the fault line.

  Her attitude was a mystery to him. She’d agreed to another date, yet every time he saw her, she couldn’t seem to get away from him fast enough. A thought struck him. Maybe he would have to see her in a place she couldn’t flee.

  Chapter Nine

  Kylie felt nervous yet excited after her lunch with Bubs. The idea that she was one step closer to finding her real mom buoyed her, but the cost had been divulging everything to her new boss. Despite the armor-plated guard she’d built up over the years, Kylie felt an instinctive trust in Barbara. She’d made her promise not to reveal anything, not even the smallest detail, to anyone connected with the Riot. Barbara had smiled and assured her that confidentiality was a sacred tenet of her former work, and she’d done it a long time. Her lips were sealed.

  Kylie’s fingers flew over her keyboard, a renewed vigor for her job instilled in her. She entered website updates and blog posts with the latest news from the team, not the least of which was the appointment of star center Cole Fiorino to the World Cup Team USA. The appointment of Bernie Griffiths to the COO position ranked a distant second to a player announcement of that magnitude. She heard the door to her reception area open but didn’t look up until footsteps stopped in front of her desk.