Cold As Ice

by Paige, Violet

  It was now my responsibility to address the directors and department heads. I’d scribbled a few remarks on my notepad before leaving my office. They seemed insufficient now.

  I gripped the back of the chair. Sitting didn’t seem like an option for a newly appointed director.

  “Hi, everyone.” My voice shook. “I’m glad everyone is together in one room so we can discuss what happened. What is happening.” I glanced at my notes. “This meeting was originally scheduled to finalize the next quarter’s budget as well as approve the year’s slated projects. As we all know, it doesn’t look like that is going to happen today.” I took a few small breaths. It felt as if I was standing in the clearing of where a series of bombs had detonated. I didn’t have equipment or gear to clear the debris. I was standing on top of a pile of rubble. Damn Charlie Babcock.

  “I’d like to start by saying I’m just as shocked and surprised as everyone else.” A man at the end of the table coughed so loudly I was certain no one could hear me. I stared at him, begging him to let me tell my side of the story.

  “I am not in favor of Albert stepping aside. I want that to be known upfront. If anyone here would like to take a vote on rejecting his letter of resignation, along with rejecting the offer from Charlie Babcock for his proposed endowment to the museum, I’d like to be the first to vote yes. Would someone like to second the motion?”

  “How much is the endowment? I’ve heard different figures.” The curator sitting closest to me tapped his fingers on the table. “What are we talking?”

  I found Ken standing at the back of the room. He nodded at me. It was the only sign of allegiance I had.

  “The full donation is ten million.” I exhaled. “Should we vote together to bring Albert back?” I searched faces around the circle. There were no smiles. “We don’t need the money,” I urged. “The museum is not in a financial crisis. The operating budget is in the green. Isn’t it, Michael?” I tossed the question to the financial analyst.

  “Operating-wise we’re fine. But we are getting ready to enter fund-raising season. It’s what we depend on to pay the bills for the next year,” he responded. “To have that pressure taken away would be huge.”

  I bored into him. “The museum is not in financial jeopardy, Michael.”

  “True, but we could use ten million to fund it all. Everything on everyone’s wish list. The basement floods. The ceiling on the third floor has started to leak when it rains. The concrete out front is cracked.”

  I groaned. This was unreal. Did Albert not have any allies? Was I the only one willing to stick my neck out for him? If I walked away, the deal was off. If I was the only one who cared about the principle of it, what was I fighting for?

  “There’s no one in this room? Not a single person who thinks we should turn down the money if Albert can have his position back?” My eyes darted back and forth.

  Michael interrupted. “He got a severance, Noelle. Just take the job. Take the money. We can do big things from here on out.” I’d misjudged everyone at the table.

  I gathered my notepad and pen. “I can’t believe this.” I glared at the room full of men. “This is not what I hoped for. I thought Albert had enough friends in this room. I guess I thought I had some friends in here too.” Ken’s silence had hurt. “I didn’t ask Charlie Babcock to do this. I see the way you’re looking at me. I promise you, whatever you think motivated him to do this—it’s not true.” I stormed out of the conference suite, before I cursed each and every one of them. I wanted to make them feel remorse and shame for choosing money over a colleague. I wanted them to be embarrassed that they would choose to believe I had slept with the billionaire for a museum endowment. I wanted them to feel horrible inside for being shallow.

  But as I stormed to my office, I thought I was the only one in the building who felt all those things.

  * * *

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I stared at my phone. There were two texts from Jack that popped up on my screen when I flicked the side button to allow sound.

  I read them quickly. Oh my God. There was a game tonight. His first game back on the ice.

  My stomach curdled. He needed me to be there. All the hard work. All the training and rehab he had pushed through to start for the Dires led to this night.

  I stared at the glass doors of the office building. Babcock Industries was scrawled on the side.

  Congratulations. We’ll be there.

  It was quick and impersonal, but my focus had to be on Charlie if I was going to face him. I hit send on the text and walked through the front doors of Charlie’s company. I would be happy for Jack later.

  “I need to see Charlie Babcock,” I announced to the security guard near the potted plant.

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a secretary, ma’am.”

  “I came to you because you look like someone who can help me. I need to see him. It’s an emergency.” My eyes flashed with anger. “Emergency.” I slowed my words.

  I didn’t know if women showed up at Charlie’s office regularly, but the guard led me to the elevator bay. He stepped inside the elevator and tapped a code for the top floor.

  “I’ll let top floor reception know you’re on the way.” He held the door. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

  “Tell him Noelle Basham.”

  He nodded. “Will do.”

  The door slid together, and I rode to the top floor. The woman sitting behind the sleek gold and glass desk smiled at me. She had blond hair that was pulled in a stylish ponytail that curled in a ribbon of ringlets. She wore bright red lipstick and dark tortoise shell glasses. She looked like a model, posing as an office worker.

  “Right through there,” she pointed. “He’s expecting you.”

  “Thank you.” I opened the heavy door. Charlie was waiting for me.

  “Noelle.” He grinned. “Did you like my present?”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Hmm. That’s surprising.”

  “Why would you do something like this?” I gawked, waiting for an answer.

  He leaned against his desk. I could smell his cologne from here even though it was the end of the day and there were nearly fifteen feet between us.

  “I like to do nice things for people.”

  “It wasn’t a nice thing.” I placed my hands on my hips. “Generous, yes, but not when you attach conditions. That takes the altruism right out of the gesture.”

  “I don’t see it that way.” He folded his arms across his chest. I recognized the designer suit he wore. It was one I had fitted for him months ago.

  “It is that way,” I pressed. “I didn’t ask you to interfere at the museum. Why now? I thought I was an idiot.”

  He pursed his lips together. “You aren’t happy that I made sure you were promoted after you lost your job at Millers? Not only did you get a promotion but an incredible salary increase. You got funding for your finger paint project.” He peered at me. “I’m confused, Noelle.”

  “I didn’t lose my job. I left because of you.” I had been pushed too many times today.

  He sighed. “I know.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Mr. Harrel is a horrible liar. He said he had to let you go. But I read people. I’ve always been excellent at reading people. That might be hard for you to believe.”

  I huffed. “Actually, impossible to believe.” I had nothing to lose anymore.

  “The man lied. You didn’t come back for the rest of the appointment. I realized after I snapped at you that it was because of the way I spoke to you. I didn’t want to admit it, but I do take responsibility. I was harsh.”

  I couldn’t comprehend half this conversation.

  Charlie continued, “I’ve been trying to come up with an apology for weeks. This was what I came up with.”

  I blinked. “An apology could be saying ‘I’m sorry.’ It could be buying someone a cup of coffee. It could even be sending flowers. Not that I’m suggesting you buy me flowers. I’m not.” I
wanted to be clear. “An apology is not a ten-million-dollar donation and having a life-long museum employee step down. That’s manipulation.”

  “I didn’t want to buy you a cup of coffee. I wanted to make an impression.”

  I groaned loudly. “Can you please undo it? That’s why I’m here. I want Albert to be museum director. I want to pretend this day didn’t happen. Rescind the endowment. Please.” I looked at him in the eyes.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I like it better this way.” He turned and walked around his desk.

  My heels clacked as I charged toward him. “I don’t like it better. They all think I slept with you to get the money. They think I’m your whore,” I snarled at him.

  Charlie shrugged. “That doesn’t matter to me.”

  “What kind of an arrogant asshole are you?” I screamed.

  “A rich one,” he answered.

  I swallowed hard. “You don’t own me because you did this. I’m not yours. You can’t dictate my life because you bought my job for me.”

  “No. But it gives us a reason to stay and touch. I’d pay a lot of money for that. Do you have any idea how many suits I have?” He paused. “More than I can wear. More than three men could wear. But I kept going back to that stuffy store just to pay you to talk to me. To look at me. To study me. I paid a lot of money for you to know me, Noelle. And you do. You know a lot about me. Details no other woman knows. You didn’t need that notebook anymore. You know my favorite scotch. You know what colors match my eyes. You know what zipper will accommodate my cock when its hardest.” He leaned forward on his desk. “Am I wrong?”

  I thought I was going to be sick on his executive floor. I didn’t care if the rug cost thousands. I was going to throw up if he kept talking about me this way. He didn’t have to lay a finger on me to make me feel violated in a humiliating way.

  “I’m looking forward to our next meeting. I’ve got the red carpet in a few days, but let’s meet for lunch when I’m back from New York. You can report to me on the new budget. I’m anxious to hear you read numbers to me, Noelle.”

  I thought I’d never see him again. His smug smile. His thick glossy hair. His expensive suits. I wasn’t supposed to be here. This shouldn’t be happening. The nightmare wouldn’t end. How could it when Charlie was the one pulling the strings like a dream master? I was speechless.

  I clutched my bag and staggered backward out of his office. I ran to the elevator. I ran past the security officer. I ran along the sidewalk to my car and buried my face in my hands in the privacy of my car.

  23

  Jack

  I kept digging through my locker and flipping my phone over. It was blank. A dark quiet screen that didn’t give me an ounce of good news. I hadn’t heard from Noelle since she sent one text. It didn’t feel right. I dialed her number, but it went to voicemail.

  The music played in the arena. The doors had opened, and fans had started filtering in. Buying beer. Loading up on super pretzels. Trying on game sweaters.

  Where was she? Where was Phoebe?

  “How are you feeling, man?” Roman slapped me on the back.

  I nodded. “Good. Just ready for the puck drop. I’ve done press all day. I want to get this part behind me. I’d like the story to be about how I helped the team, not about how I’m the new guy.”

  He laughed. “It’s like being a rookie all over again I guess.”

  “Yeah. I thought that shit was behind me.”

  He still had a lot of gear to strap on. “I’m lucky I’ve only been a Dire. Sophie and I love this team. I don’t think either of us would be happy anywhere else.”

  “Is Sophie here tonight?” I asked. I hadn’t met Roman’s wife, but he talked about her all the time.

  “Yeah. She’s in the team box.”

  “My girlfriend is coming tonight. With her kid,” I added.

  “Nice. I’m sure they’ll meet. What’s her name? I’ll text Soph and tell her to say hi.”

  “Noelle,” I answered. “And her daughter is Phoebe. She’s a hockey player too.”

  “That sounds serious. You’re dating a mom.”

  My heart thundered. “Yeah. It is.”

  Roman grinned. “I sent the text to Soph. She’ll look out for her. I’ve got to get my gear together. The equipment manager added another military insignia to the back of my helmet.”

  “Anyone on the Score you’re worried about tonight?” I asked.

  Roman grunted. “That fucker, Alexi. He’s setting all kinds of scoring records.”

  He could have slapped me in the face with the end of his stick and it would have felt the same as the realization that just hit me.

  “Fuck,” I murmured.

  “Something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “I just screwed something up. I don’t know if I have enough time to fix it.”

  “Let me know if I can help.”

  “Not with this, but thanks.” I grabbed my phone and darted to a corner in the locker room. Most of the guys were starting to move into the training room where they could warm up with cardio and stretch with the trainers. I had one end to myself.

  “Please, pick up, Noelle,” I pleaded into my phone.

  I’d fucked up. Again.

  I didn’t listen when I got the nod to play tonight. I didn’t pay attention to the roster. I only thought about myself. I was caught up in playing. Getting back out there. I was excited to get out from under the shadow of recovery. Proving to the hockey world that I hadn’t shriveled up and died from a broken leg.

  Instead of looking at the big picture, I had inadvertently lured Noelle to the arena to watch a game with her daughter where her biological father would face me on the ice. Holy fuck, I deserved the penalty box.

  The call went to voicemail. It didn’t stop me from trying to call her three more times.

  24

  Noelle

  It was a scramble to get anywhere on time with Phoebe. Tonight, I had to push myself out of the bathroom. I was generous with the concealer and lip liner. I wanted to draw attention away from my puffy eyes.

  “Do you think Jack is nervous?” Phoebe asked from the backseat. I watched her in the rearview window.

  “I don’t know, honey.”

  I was a horrible girlfriend today. I hadn’t called when I should have. I didn’t ask him anything. I sank into the darkness Charlie Babcock created and I lived there until I had to come crawling out. If it hadn’t been for Phoebe, I wouldn’t have. The truth was I’d still be huddled on my tile floor drinking wine.

  “I’d be nervous. I bet he’s nervous.” She glanced out the window when we pulled into the parking lot.

  “Maybe.” I grimaced with guilt.

  The man was a professional athlete. He’d told me there was ice water running through his veins. I had nothing to feel guilty about. He was here doing his job. Doing what he was paid millions to do. But to lean into that idea was to ignore the sweet and shattered man I had fallen for. The one who shared broken stories from his Czech childhood. The man who admitted he didn’t know what family felt like. The man who made Phoebe giggle uncontrollably when he put straws under his gums. The one who kissed me on the front porch when it started to snow. That man wasn’t full of ice. He was fire and heat. Love and passion. He was the one I should have checked on today when the apocalypse erupted.

  “Who are the Dire Wolves playing, Mommy?”

  “I have no idea.” I shook my head. I hadn’t bothered to look.

  “Oh. I know,” she squealed. “Look. There’s a Seattle Scores flag. Those people are Scores fans. Boo.” She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Boo.”

  The parking attendant directed me into an open space after I paid twenty dollars to park. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to face Phoebe.

  “Who did you say the other team is?”

  “The Score.”

  I shook my head. That couldn’t be right. Jack would have mentioned it. I fished in my bag for my phon
e.

  “Come on, Mommy. It’s almost puck drop.”

  Shit. There were three missed calls from Jack. I tried to tap the voicemail button, but the wheel on my phone spun in a circle. There was no reception. I saw another voicemail from Daniel. My skin tingled. Something wasn’t right.

  “Wait, Phoebe, you can’t just run…”

  But she had darted from one car to another and was almost at the ticket office before I caught up to her.

  “You can’t run away from me like that,” I scolded. “It’s dangerous. What if I couldn’t find you?”

  “I’m wearing my cape. You can always find me in my cape.”

  I thought about kneeling in front of her right then. My beautiful spunky kid who loved hockey. The little girl who had my eyes that sparkled with mischief when she knew she was right. The one who had inherited her hockey father’s DNA. I could tell her the truth. Under this roof was Alexi. The man who was the reason she could skate. The man who gave her blond hair and fair skin. I could tell her she was about to watch her father play for the very first time.

  “Why are you crying, Mommy? You found me.” She wrapped her arms around my waist. “I didn’t get lost.”

  I’d been torn down so many times today I didn’t know if I had the strength to take another step. I didn’t have the kind of thread to sew the tatters or even mend the ripped corners of my dignity back together. But my little girl put her hand in mine, and we walked inside the Dires arena together.

  * * *

  We were ushered into the Dires family box by an escort wearing a long-sleeve polo and Dire gloves. Phoebe’s eyes had never looked so wide. Not since the first time she opened them.

  “Hi, I’m Bonnie.” A woman pushed her way to the front to shake my hand. They call me the the wife mom.”

  I stared at her. Was that an official team title? “Hi, I’m Noelle and this is my daughter Phoebe.”

  Bonnie’s eyes never wavered. She wanted more. She wanted to know whose guests we were. Before she could ply me with questions, a beautiful woman smiled at me. One hand was on her pregnant belly.