A Perfect Catch

by Anna Sugden

  Perhaps that said more about him than them.

  A burst of laughter from the living room had Ike turning his head. The warm glow from the windows reinforced his feeling of loneliness and isolation. He shivered even though he wasn’t cold. Everyone looked so cozy and happy inside.

  It occurred to Ike that this was a preview of what was to come when he retired. He’d always assumed that not playing—especially around the holidays—wouldn’t bother him so much, because he’d have his own family by then. A wife to cuddle up to and kids to make a fuss over.

  As things stood, all he’d be was alone. On the outside looking in.

  If today had taught him anything it was that maybe it was time for him to get his ass in gear and start finding the right woman to have that family with.

  “Hey, Uncle Ike.” Emily bounded out onto the deck. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

  It was hard to be miserable around Maggie’s daughter. “Better the cold than suffering through that sappy movie you ladies were watching.”

  “Not me. I had to go along with it because I’m ‘one of the girls.’” She added air quotes with the finesse of a teenager, though she still had a few years to go.

  He knew she’d much rather have been in the kitchen with the Ice Cats. Especially if it meant she could watch the game. She preferred hockey to football, but both were better than anything remotely girly.

  “Anyway, it’s over. The guy got the girl and everyone lived happily ever after.” Emily rolled her eyes. “I was the only one who didn’t get teary-eyed over the kissy-face bits.”

  Ike grinned. “Good for you, Em. So, what brings you out here?”

  “I didn’t want you to be lonely now that all your friends have gone.”

  The imp’s earnest words touched him. She then spoiled the moment by adding, “And I thought you might want to have seconds of pie and ice cream with me.”

  “Your mom said no, huh?”

  Emily shifted from foot to foot. “She said I could have some if I found a nice, kind adult to have some, too.”

  He’d bet that wasn’t really what Maggie had said, but what the hell—it was a holiday and given the dearth of females desperate for his company, he’d take what he could get. “Okay. Let’s see what we can find.”

  They were sitting in the kitchen tucking into a chocolate pie when Tracy walked in.

  Damn, she looked good in her snug-fitting red sweater and swirling black skirt that ended just above her knees. Her spike-heeled black shoes emphasized her gorgeous legs. Despite Ike’s efforts to be nonchalant, his mouth went dry.

  Other than a brief hitch in her stride, Tracy showed no sign of being bothered by his presence. “I missed out on pie earlier, so I came to get some.”

  “Yay. You’re back.” Emily jumped up to get her aunt a plate. “You were gone for ages.”

  “I’m sorry. It couldn’t be avoided. One of my clients needed help.” Tracy’s gaze flicked to Ike, as if bracing for his reaction.

  “On Thanksgiving?” He was proud that his voice sounded casual. Almost disinterested.

  “Household problems can happen on a holiday, just like any other day,” she said crisply.

  “That’s a shame.”

  “That’s my job.”

  He chose not to meet her gaze, knowing what he’d see in her eyes. He wasn’t in the mood for an “I told you so.”

  “You will be able to make my game on Saturday, won’t you, Auntie Tracy?” Emily’s question broke the tense moment.

  “Of course. Assuming you’ll still be able to play after all the pie you’ve eaten.”

  Emily grinned. “I’m a growing girl.”

  Tracy’s affectionate laugh sent a tingle down his spine. Jeez, he had it bad.

  “Well, make sure you don’t grow too much.” She ruffled her niece’s hair. “Now I’m going to put my feet up and enjoy this pie before my phone rings again.”

  Once she’d gone, Ike slowly released a breath.

  Only to have it catch when Emily asked, “Is Auntie Tracy mad at you again?”

  “Uh, no. Why?”

  “She had her sniffy voice on, which she only uses when she’s mad.”

  Out of the mouths of babes. “It’s okay. We’re good.”

  Emily didn’t look convinced, but her mind skipped onto another topic. “How come you don’t have a girlfriend?”

  It was a good thing he wasn’t eating, or he’d have choked. It was also a good thing he’d thought about this topic earlier, because he could use the same excuses on Emily.

  She listened to him intently, shaking her head sadly when he’d finished. “It’s a shame you’re a boy, because you need a matchmaker.”

  “A what?”

  “You know, like in that film about the fiddler we watched earlier.” She began to sing, “‘Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match...’”

  He recognized the tune from Fiddler on the Roof. “Oh. Well, that’s different.”

  “Why?”

  Ike cursed the fact that she was too old to be satisfied with “because I said so.” “That’s an old film, about a time long ago.”

  “I bet they still have matchmakers these days. Auntie Tracy says you can find almost anything on the internet if you know how to look.”

  When she pulled out her cell, Ike put his hand over it to stop her. The last thing he needed was her doing that kind of Google search. He dreaded to think what she’d find. “That’s okay. I’m good. If I need help, I’ll know what to do.”

  But Emily wasn’t deterred. “I bet Auntie Tracy could help. She can find anything.”

  “I...uh...”

  “Emily,” Jake’s dad called from the doorway. “The game’s starting. Nonna said we can watch it in the basement.”

  Saved by the bell. Or at least the Cowboys-Eagles game.

  Matchmaking forgotten, Emily dashed after Gio.

  Ike laughed softly. He could imagine Tracy’s reaction if he asked her to find him the perfect match. Forget being ready to play in April. Once she got done with him, he’d be lucky to walk upright again.

  As he chewed a mouthful of pie, Ike went back to what he’d been thinking about earlier. The distraction. Dating. Finding someone to settle down with. The time was definitely right; it wasn’t as if he had a lot else on his plate for the next few months. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that was what he wanted to do. He still wasn’t sure how he’d go about it, but it couldn’t be that hard. Just like he did when he had to face a new player, he’d do his research, work out a strategy and come up with an action plan. Piece of cake.

  I bet Auntie Tracy could help.

  Emily’s words echoed in his head. Maybe she had a point.

  Tracy had offered to help any way she could. And it was her job to help him find, evaluate and hire the services he needed. As far as Helping Hands was concerned, was a dating agency really so different from a yard company?

  It wasn’t like he could approach a dating agency himself anyway. He couldn’t risk word getting out. The media would have a field day with that story. Ike would never live it down, on or off the ice. He could trust Tracy to be discreet.

  But did he really want to go down that road with her?

  He couldn’t think of an alternative. Perhaps it was because now he’d got the idea in his head, nothing else seemed like it would work as well.

  Still, it was Tracy.

  Ike pulled himself up short. His problem was he was acting as though there were still something between him and Tracy. There wasn’t. She’d made that very clear. Hadn’t he realized she was right only a short while ago?

  This wasn’t personal, it was business.

  So it all boiled down to a simple fact—Ike needed help and Tracy was the bes
t person for the job.

  The problem was how to make sure she didn’t turn down his request. Or castrate him.

  He had to make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. But what could he possibly give her that she couldn’t get for herself?

  His cell chirped with a text message. Ike laughed when he saw that Kenny had sent a selfie of the guys on the team bus. They were all pulling faces to look sad that he wasn’t there. He’d have to take a photo of himself, grinning, surrounded by all the women, and send it back to them.

  For the first time, Ike didn’t feel a black cloud hovering over him at the thought of not being with the team. That wasn’t to say it wouldn’t return—probably tomorrow, during the game—but tonight, he was surprisingly okay. He had something else to think about and plan.

  But first, payback for his brother.

  Ike swiped his phone screen to get to the camera. He paused at the sight of his wallpaper—a photo of him hoisting the Stanley Cup. That picture was both an incentive to win again and a reminder that he’d achieved his dream once before, so he could do it again. Now the photo sparked an idea. He knew exactly what he had to offer to get Tracy to help him.

  A way to achieve her goal.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “YOU WANT ME to do what?” Tracy’s jaw dropped. “You cannot be serious.”

  Ike’s earnest expression didn’t change. “I’m not getting any younger and this—” he held up his bandaged arm “—has made me realize how precarious my career is. Life after hockey might be closer than I’d like. As you said, this is the perfect opportunity to get some building blocks in place for the future.”

  “But you... I can’t,” Tracy spluttered. He couldn’t ask that of her. What kind of person did he think she was?

  “Why not?” His innocent tone sparked her temper.

  “I’m not a pimp or a madam.”

  When Ike had called this morning saying he needed to discuss an important project, she’d assumed he had something else he needed her help with while he was recuperating. After his disapproving look when she’d had to duck out of the Thanksgiving party yesterday, she’d been tempted to refuse. But professionalism had won out, so she’d come over to his house and was now sitting in his living room.

  After all, things between them were back to normal. Whatever bridges they’d been building had been blown apart by her refusal to have a relationship with him. That saddened her almost as much as it annoyed her.

  Which was why she hadn’t explained that it really had been an emergency yesterday. A pipe had burst in the rented house where the Chabals were staying, flooding the children’s bedrooms. Besides getting someone to fix the problem, she’d had to find alternative accommodation for the family. Not easy on a holiday.

  Not that Ike would have listened anyway. To him, it would have been another example of her business coming first. And she refused to defend herself to him.

  “I’m not asking you to set me up with a hooker.” Ike’s eyes glittered dangerously. “If all I wanted was sex, there are plenty of puck bunnies who’d be glad to have my notch on their bedpost.”

  “Well, that’s what your ‘important’ project sounded like to me,” she said coolly.

  “Asking you to find some women for me to date is nothing like hiring me a prostitute. I’m talking about the kind of woman I could have a future with.”

  His words shouldn’t have affected her—she’d pushed him away with both hands—yet they caused a sharp pang in her chest. “There are plenty of dating agencies around. Call one of them.”

  “I can’t risk the information leaking. Hockey may not be as popular around here as other sports, but it would still make for uncomfortable headlines. ‘Star goaltender can’t catch a woman’ would be a social media hit. I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without a paparazzi tail and endless media speculation. If I talked to a woman, the pictures would go viral before I’d finished saying hello.”

  He had a point. But still... “There are a number of local exclusive introduction services who specialize in finding suitable dates for men in your situation.”

  “Please. You think I’d sign up with one of those skinny bleached-blonde barracudas? I’ve seen the ads in the airline magazines.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “I’d rather face the Rangers naked than discuss my personal life with any of those so-called exclusive introduction bureaus.”

  She wiped the image from her mind and tamped down her skittering pulse. The last thing she needed right now was to think about Ike naked. “Some of those women do look predatory.”

  “Plus, I can’t see myself wanting to get serious and settle down with the kind of people they’d suggest. I’ve already dated my share of models, actresses, trust-fund babies and high-flying career women whose bank accounts probably outstrip mine by several zeroes.”

  Tracy wasn’t sure how that made her feel. She didn’t fit into any of those categories. Not that she wanted to, but she couldn’t help wondering where that put her. “I still don’t see how I can help. I don’t know anything about matchmaking.”

  “All you’d have to do is work with me to figure out my requirements—like you did when I bought this house—then you’d introduce me to some women and I’d take it from there. It isn’t rocket science.”

  He wasn’t seriously expecting her to fix him up with her friends? “Matching you to a future wife is not a service we offer. However I know a woman who runs a small high-end introduction agency locally, whom I can guarantee would be discreet. You’ll like Layla—she’s very down-to-earth. I’m sure she could put you in touch with some suitable women.”

  “If you want her to help you, fine. But I’ve explained why I’m not signing up with a dating agency.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I thought Helping Hands was supposed to provide the services your clients needed.”

  Trust him to nail the perfect jibe. “We’re not a dating agency.”

  “I didn’t realize you only provided the services you wanted to.”

  He was twisting her words. “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it? I need your help and you’re refusing to give it.”

  Tracy squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry, but as I said, this isn’t my field of expertise. I don’t have the contacts I would need and I couldn’t provide the high quality of service that clients like yourself are entitled to expect,” she said frostily, hoping he’d give up his crazy quest.

  “Even if I pay the going rate plus twenty percent?”

  Her jaw dropped. “You do know how much that is?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly as he named a generous six-figure fee.

  Did he really think she was that shallow? “Money isn’t the issue.”

  His knowing smile was almost feral. “So what terms would be favorable?”

  “This isn’t a negotiation,” she protested. “I’ve already said I won’t do it. No amount of money would make me play matchmaker for you.”

  “What if I could give you something else you really wanted?”

  Confident that there was no bait he could dangle that would convince her to say yes, she mimicked his earlier nonchalant shrug. “Nothing you can give me would change my mind.”

  “Not even the number-one spot in the market?”

  “What?” Her heart thudded against her ribs. “You can’t guarantee that.” Could he?

  She hated that she’d nibbled at the bloody bait after all.

  He leaned forward. “There were complaints from the guys yesterday that they’re not getting the support they used to have from you. If you help me, I’ll stir up the team to demand the Cats change back to Making Your Move.”

  “Callum Hardshaw’s determined to streamline and consolidate to make the Ice Cats more profitable.” She wasn’t weakening, she was merely pointing out why his offe
r wasn’t viable. “A few complaints from the players won’t be enough to sway him.”

  Ike looked as if he were going to argue, but all he did was sigh. “You’re right. I probably don’t have that kind of influence with him, either. Especially right now.” For a moment he looked vulnerable. “Who knows what other measures Hardshaw will put in place in the name of cost-saving.”

  His comment surprised her. “What do you mean?”

  “From what I hear, the changes aren’t limited to suppliers. He’s also turning the entire front office upside-down. Who’s to say he won’t do the same with the team? Especially if we don’t make the cut for the playoffs again this season. Look at how he let Tru and a couple of other veterans go in the summer. No one’s safe.”

  “Surely you don’t include yourself in that.”

  “Why not? My salary is among the highest in the NHL and there are more top-class goaltenders than jobs. Plus, there’s no guarantee my arm will be strong enough for me to play at the level I did before.”

  She didn’t want to get into another discussion about his arm, so she tried another angle. “You have a no-trade clause.”

  “You can be made to waive them, under the right circumstances. Like if you find your position untenable—only playing backup, for example. Even if Hardshaw didn’t go that route, my contract is up for renewal shortly. He may decide to force my hand, rather than let me go for nothing.”

  How had the conversation turned around so quickly? From finding him a possible future wife to his career being in dire straits and being made to leave the Ice Cats. “Are we back to me telling you not to borrow trouble?”

  Ike didn’t respond for a moment. Then he shook his head, as if clearing it of those miserable thoughts. “I’m not. Just being practical. And that’s why I shouldn’t keep my personal life on the back burner any longer. Why this project I’m asking you to help me with is so important.”