“I don’t know,” Seraphina replied honestly. “I mean, again, he didn’t talk about business. I’ve never really met any of the players. But I think that Papa liked the guy. That’s why he asked me my opinion. Not that I’m the come all or be all or anything like that, but he only talked to me about problems that, to him, didn’t have an obvious answer. And the thing is, if he was talking about Thorpe, I think he was looking for a way to keep him without paying him an exuberant amount.”
“So what did you tell him?” Chris repeated. He seemed more interested in the outcome of the story, at least to Seraphina.
“I told him that maybe he should see if this player would be willing to negotiate in some way,” Seraphina said. “Like, keep the same pay, but have him on the bench more. I don’t know. I have no idea what he did.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking down at her lap. She was babbling and being repetitive, but it was now beyond her control. She was nervous but she didn’t know why. “But ultimately I told him that if he liked the guy, if he had a feeling that maybe the player was going through some temporary greed phase or whatever, he should be given a second chance.
“We were supposed to meet that night.” For whatever reason, Seraphina’s voice had dropped uncharacteristically low. “You know, the night that I, uh, walked in on him. I don’t know if he was going to tell me what happened or something else...”
Suddenly, she was sad. And she wanted Chris away from her, from her sister, from the house. There was a lot she had to prepare for today; Henry suggested that since she officially agreed to take over the team that she should formally meet them, along with the Gulls Girls, just to introduce herself and to explain briefly what was going on now.
“Okay, thanks,” Chris said, and with that, he stood up. Seraphina knew she should have stood, along with Katella, in respect, but her eyes were focused on the cup of coffee that Chris had deemed so good, still three-quarters filled, and now cold. “So what’s going to happen, then? To Thorpe, I mean.”
Seraphina’s eyes shot into his. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well the season starts soon, doesn’t it?” Chris asked. “How long before he either signs or doesn’t play?”
Seraphina said nothing as Katella led him out. She didn’t know how long she had, but she realized whatever decision her grandfather was going to make didn’t matter now.
Now, it was her decision to make, and she realized she had to make it soon.
Chapter 4
Seraphina took a deep breath. She was at Sea Side, in the lower level where the locker rooms were. Her stomach was filled with all kinds of insects, buzzing and flying and crashing into each other. She had to curl her fingers into fists to stop them from shaking.
“Ready?” Katella murmured from her side. “They’re waiting.”
The blazer she wore seemed one size too big, but the matching grey slacks fit her quite well. She had wavy blonde hair that looked difficult to tame, even with the various products on the market that claimed to do so. Her side-swept bangs framed her heart-shaped face, and her lips were full, even without the aid of gloss. Though she was wearing a somewhat loose white top, her large breasts contrasted with her slim waist, and then grew into her wide hips. Madison watched as she tried to climb onto the stool without hesitation, but the one thing Seraphina seemed to lack was the grace to emphasize her good looks because she stumbled slightly before finding her balance. Even on the stool, she seemed short, and though she was beautiful, she couldn’t quite command the attention of the room, even with those expressive eyes. She looked as though she was in over her head and knew it.
Seraphina cleared her throat in hopes to get everyone’s attention. Madison wondered if the woman didn’t already know that her audience had been waiting for her, waiting to find out the outcome of just what their fate was. If she had considered long and hard about making this decision. If Seraphina had the choice to make the decision at all. Maybe Ken wanted the team sold on the date of his death.
“H-Hello.”
Like climbing onto the stool, Seraphina’s voice, while clear, stumbled. But, as with the first time, she managed to pick herself up and continue on as though nothing had happened.
“My name is Seraphina Hanson, Ken’s youngest granddaughter,” she began. “While I’m sure some of you have met my older sister Katella” – here, the players around Matt nudge him and chuckle – “I’m disappointed to say that I don’t know any of you, and besides the familial relations I had with the owner, you probably don’t really know me either.”
It was difficult for her to speak. Seraphina’s voice got tight and the blue in her eyes seemed to overtake the gold.
“My grandfather loved hockey. He formed this team with many he had earned and maintained it until his dying day. This was his dream. He loved the team.” Her eyes, staring just above the heads of the players and at the peeling beige wall, now began to look directly at the players. “He loved each and every one of you. He respected each and every one of you. He would tell me that he enjoyed talking to you one-on-one about your family and your goals, and in his own small way, wanted to help you achieve those goals, whether they were hockey-related or not. He wanted you to feel like this was a family, that each of your teammates were your brother, the coaches were father-figures you could go to.
“I’m not going to lie to you and say that I’ve seen his influence on your interactions. However, it seems that you’re all comfortable with giving Matt shit about dating my older sister directly in front of me which, I guess, is a good thing.” A couple players chuckled at her observation. “I’m not going to lie and tell you I’ve watched you play, that I know what your weaknesses and strengths are. I don’t have any ideas for how to improve the team. I don’t know the sorts of things that inspire loyalty in people and therefore can’t guarantee that you’ll all become or remain loyal to this team.
“But I’m open-minded.”
The entire speech shifted, and though it didn’t retain that casual air from seconds before.
“I’m here to listen because I want you to have the best time of your life on this team,” Seraphina continued. “There’s no way I could ever replace my grandfather so I’m not going to try. But what I plan to do is maintain the integrity and class of this team. I plan to take your suggestions and your problems, your complaints and praises seriously, and address them as need be. I want you – and this includes everyone, from the equipment people to the Gulls Girls – to feel comfortable coming to me about any issue you might be going through, whether it has to do with the team or not.”
She paused, maybe to catch her breath or to quickly think about what she wanted to say.
“I know I’m young,” Seraphina said. “Look at me; I know I don’t look like the type of girl many of you would take seriously. But I am. I know I’m inexperienced. But I’m a fast-learned and open to constructive criticism.
“I’m here to represent you all to the best of my abilities. I want to keep this family together, despite the hurdles that will no doubt come with such a decision. I want to keep my grandfather’s dream alive, and I hope to keep yours alive as well.” She stopped, and a small smile touched her face, almost as though to say she was satisfied with everything she had said. “Any questions?”
“Yeah.” Seraphina turned to a player she recognized as Kyle Underwood, his strawberry blond hair darker due to the gel he used in order to spike the front of his hair up and out of his face. “I’m Kyle Underwood. I play left forward for the first line. So, just so we’re clear, you’re not selling the team?”
“No,” Seraphina said, and even she felt a sigh of relief escape her lips. “I will step up as owner and manager of the Gulls, and while I retain that position, the team will not be sold.”
“I have one.”
This time, it was Alec Schumacher who had spoken. The ladies’ man. Nearly every Gulls Girl had told Katella something relating to Alec’s charming tendencies. Interestingly enough, some were almost admiring while others were bit
ter. Technically, Gulls Girls and players weren’t supposed to socialize outside of hockey environments, but such a rule never stopped people before. If anything, it encouraged people to sneak around just for the thrill of it.
“My name’s Alec Schumacher. Right wing for the first line,” he said. “No offense, but can you handle running and managing a hockey team? You’re young and you’ve even admitted to not knowing what you’re getting into. You won’t be taken seriously.”
People started murmuring to themselves, to each other.
“My whole life, I’ve never been taken seriously,” Seraphina said with a firm voice. “I have blonde hair and big boobs and come from money. That’s all people see when they look at me.” There was more laughing and more surprised looks on their faces that the young woman was so blunt about her appearance despite its truth. “I’m not an idiot, Mr. Schumacher. But here’s the thing: I played soccer seven years of my life, and people were surprised when I was a sweeper rather than a forward. Just because I was – am – tiny, didn’t mean I was fast, but I could definitely clear a soccer ball. People thought I got C’s in school due to my bubbly personality, but, in fact, I graduated with a 4.0 and received a partial scholarship to UCI. The scholarship was called the Regent’s scholarship and it’s one the most prestigious scholarship a UC can give to a student. And you’re right. I don’t know anything about hockey. But, like I said, I can learn and learn fast. To answer your question, I don’t know if I can handle doing two jobs that I’m completely unfamiliar with, but I’m willing to try.
“If, in fact, you’re more worried about how other teams will treat you, will not take you seriously, that’s on you.” Her sunset eyes were looking fiercely at Alec, the gold now almost overpowering the blue. “You aren’t an individual when you’re on this team, Mr. Schumacher. You’re one part of a cohesive unit. You can’t not know that even with my grandfather as the owner, this team wasn’t taken seriously by the league. Look at our mascot. Look at where we’re from. If you want to be taken seriously, play to the best of your abilities. I don’t care if I’m the owner of the team or if a white, middle aged male with every fact about hockey tucked away in his head is owner. Play better and people will forget about flaws to attack us with. Because all that really matters is what goes on when you’re on the ice.”
“Any other questions?” Seraphina asked, her eyes skimming across her audience, patiently waiting for someone to speak up. When she concluded that no, there were no more questions, her eyes narrowed directly at a player Katella had familiarized her with before. “Brandon Thorpe, I’d like to speak to you in my gr – my office please. Right now.”
Players around Brandon nudged him and laughed. Some even “oooohed’ like they were back in elementary school. All Seraphina could focus on was the tremor in her voice when she stumbled, once again, over the appropriate word. It wasn’t her grandfather’s office anymore. It was hers. And though her voice remained firm throughout the rest of the request, and she could feel the sadness that started to crawl back into her eyes.
But she couldn’t think about that now. Not when there was a meeting to attend and a player to officially come face-to-face with.
Chapter 5
As superficial as it sounded, and as much as she hated to admit it, from the moment Seraphina laid eyes on Brandon Thorpe, she found herself to be wholly and completely attracted to him. In fact, as she looked at him standing to the side of the collective group of Gulls players, she could literally feel her pupils dilate. Then her conscious mind reminded her why she needed to talk to him, and as she requested he come up to what once had been her grandfather’s office, pushed her attraction to him in the back of her mind. It was surprisingly easy to do only because her body responded to something purely physical he seemed to emit.
It wasn’t as easy to do when she was confronted with the direct sight of him sitting across from her once they entered the office. It was hard for Seraphina to claim it was hers just yet, hard for her to take a seat that had once belonged to her grandfather when she would normally take the seat Brandon Thorpe sat in. She had gotten to the office early, intent on cleaning it and ridding it of unnecessary items such as that newspaper, but the police took the majority of things so all Seraphina could do was sit down a kill time. She hadn’t planned on getting lost in the many memories that accompanied the office, and before she knew it, Seraphina was crying. Which was why she was late to the informal meeting and she thanked her lucky stars she had opted not to wear makeup.
Seraphina realized that as she stood in front of the players, the Girls, and everyone else who had some stake in the team, that nobody took her seriously while she spoke. Nobody believed she would be successful as owner-manager of a hockey team. And it was hard not to believe them. But as she continued to speak, she began to believe what she was saying so that by the end of her little soliloquy, it didn’t matter what they believed because she did. She believed that she could do it. No, it definitely wasn’t going to be easy, and yes, she expected to take on more than enough adversity, but she could do it. She sort of had to, didn’t she? There was no way she would sell the team, no way she’d give Alan the satisfaction.
One of the first things she needed to do was resolve whatever conflict her grandfather had with Thorpe, because the clock was ticking and she needed to know if she was going to have to tell Henry to start practicing – oh, what was his name? Sam something? – whomever the second string goaltender was.
Sitting in front of her, Brandon Thorpe didn’t look too intimidating. He was tall, but not excessively so; maybe six foot, six foot one. He had short brown hair and an oval shaped face, with matching whiskers covering the lower half of his face. He had grey-green eyes that seemed closed-off to his surroundings, but not because he was daydreaming or staring into space. They almost seemed guarded, protecting some secret nobody else knew but him. His nose pointed out rather than curved down, and his cheekbones were high and sharp. His ears stuck out and maybe were too big and his chin was blunt rather than angled. His shoulders were broad, hidden behind a long-sleeved off-white shirt, but he was toned, but lean, although it filled his frame quite nicely. He wore dark blue jeans that weren’t too tight or too loose, something Seraphina admired in men her age given the trends that were popular right now. His feet were clad in tennis shoes, and Seraphina wasn’t sure if he planned to go to the gym after the meeting or if it was just his style. Though Brandon Thorpe had a handful of noticeable flaws, there was something about him, something that caused this sudden urge in Seraphina to –
She didn’t know what. And more importantly, she had to focus on the task in front of her. There was nothing in the rulebook that said she couldn’t be attracted to her player unless it affected her decision-making process. And due to the jumbled thought processes going through her mind right this second, it would seem that perhaps she would have to dedicate a good deal of mental control. But she needed something to distance herself from him, something that might not cause her attraction to disappear but possibly hinder it so it was more manageable.
He could be a suspect.
The thought was like being completely naked and thrown into an ice cold bath tub. It caused her to straighten up and steel herself off from him. No matter how magnetic his pull was on her, if she kept reminding herself that he was a suspect, she wouldn’t get swept away. Plus, she had a crush on Christopher Williams. There was too much she had to do to be attracted to more than one person, and it would be crossing the line, especially since Thorpe was both a player and a suspect.
He was a suspect. There was a reason Christopher Williams asked about him. And, Seraphina realized, he was kind of a douche. He held out at the last second in order to acquire more money even though the Gulls had yet to ever make playoffs. Certainly he was a good goaltender, but not good enough to make playoffs. What about the loyalty Papa had instilled in his players? What about family? Didn’t this guy care that he could be risking playing with people he’d been playing with for..
.
How long had he been playing for the Gulls anyways?
Oh boy, she would definitely have to read up on not only Brandon Thorpe but everyone else, too. And here she thought she’d be free of homework now that she had graduated college.
Where was his sense of honor? Wasn’t there some kind of hockey team code that the team came first? Seraphina wasn’t lying when she told Alec Schumacher that she expected him to adhere to the team mentality rather than an individual mindset. That was Papa’s motto – team before self. So why was this guy so adamant about getting more money? Didn’t he care about his team?
Not only that, but he could have killed Papa. For money. Because he wasn’t going to get his way. Or was he? Seraphina did suggest Brandon get a second chance. Okay, thinking about things in a rational manner had calmed down her insides. She could look at the man sitting in front of her without her mind throwing out suggestive comments and catcalls.
“I take it you know why I wanted to talk to you,” she began, relieved to hear her voice come out steady.
She even managed to lock eyes with him to show just how serious she was.
“Yeah, I think I have an idea,” Brandon Thorpe said. It was the first time Seraphina heard him speak – soft spoken baritone – and not at all unpleasant. She recognized a gentle Canadian lilt to his tone, and it didn’t carry the arrogance, self-deserving undertones she expected it to.
He shifted in his seat before saying, “Look, I didn’t kill your grandfather.”
To say Seraphina was surprised by his unsuspecting outburst would be accurate. She looked at him coolly, trying to read his expression, to figure out if what he said was, in fact, the truth. But those eyes wouldn’t give anything away. And yet, a very tiny portion of her began to believe him. Maybe it was due to her obvious attraction to him. Maybe it was because she always wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt and he was no exception. But she couldn’t just make a decision on him based on that small voice inside of her that also happened to be completely separate from logic.
Blood on the Rocks: A Slapshot Prequel (A Slapshot Prequel Trilogy Book 1) Page 4
