Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1)

by Jami Davenport

  Only one troubling fact marred an otherwise perfect evening. The game hadn’t sold out. In fact, it came well short of it. The guys deserved better, but the Sleezer brothers were too busy spending the team proceeds to be bothered with promoting the team. Plus, who wanted to sit in a hockey arena when it was eighty degrees outside? Not that she bought that excuse. Other warm-weather teams didn’t have a problem drawing a crowd, but the Sleezers had produced such a lousy product for long enough that fans had deserted the team in droves. Disappointed, they’d gravitated to other sports teams in the area, except for a handful of diehards the team fondly called the faithful fifty, even though their numbers were greater than fifty. It just didn’t look like that on most days.

  Lauren glanced at the phone and frowned. It was her boss, Terry Allen, the director of player personnel. A call from him this early in the morning probably meant one thing—one of the guys had gotten in trouble and needed to be bailed out of jail or worse. She’d work her spin magic with the marketing staff, while Terry took care of the player.

  As assistant director of player personnel for an organization in financial trouble, Lauren’s role had morphed into something of a Girl Friday, as the Sleezers continued to cut staff to make payroll and maintain their extravagant lifestyle. It hadn’t always been like this, but after the patriarch of the family died six years ago, things had gone downhill faster than a runaway train.

  “This better be good, Allen.” She worked hard to maintain her kick-ass female rep, and she didn’t let down, even with the man who signed her paychecks.

  “Get to HQ, and you needed to be here about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Get your ass down here.” He hung up the phone. In itself that wasn’t unusual. Terry wasn’t known for his touchy-feely conversations, so it probably meant nothing.

  Lauren showered, dressed, and was in her car speeding to the arena, where the team had its headquarters, in record time. Because her life was all about the team, she lived only five minutes away, fifteen minutes if she walked, but she didn’t have time for that today.

  Scenarios raced through her mind. The Sleezers declared bankruptcy—finally? Or team captain Cooper Black was in jail? Cedric got caught in a compromising position with a woman? Nah, that wouldn’t be news. Maybe all those sales rumors finally came to fruition? The league had tired of bailing out the Sleezers? Or—or what?

  Lauren hurried into the building, relatively empty except for janitorial staff cleaning up from the party last night.

  She nodded to the gray-haired guy sitting behind the security desk. “Hey, Herm, how goes it?”

  “Big stuff going down here last night, missy. Lots of important men in and out, including the commissioner.”

  “The commissioner was here?” Oh, God, this was big. Way big. Scary big. “Any idea why?”

  Herm frowned and pulled his lips in that tight line that said all she was getting out of him would be name and rank, and forget about the serial number. “You’d best go upstairs and find out for yourself.”

  She headed for the stairs, glancing over her shoulder at Herm. He tried to smile but failed. Herm always found something to smile about, no matter what. Not so today.

  The place was quiet as she walked down the long hallway of the empty offices of the team, but she heard laughter coming from the conference room—even what she swore was the popping of a champagne cork. Lauren stuck her head around the partially open door. Terry motioned her inside. She hesitated when she saw the general manager and coach in the office along with several other staff members, all with grins on their faces, which is what one would expect from a team advancing to the playoffs for the first time in a decade. So why was she here?

  “Who’s in jail?” Lauren quipped.

  “No one.” Ike, the GM, shook his head, and almost managed a smile. Ike was like an uncle to her. He’d played in the league with her father. While he’d been an incredible forward, his management skills left a lot to be desired, but Lauren never spoke up against him, despite the grumblings among the staff. Ike never moved fast when it came to decisions. His inability to jump on a deal quickly lost them a good many players over the years.

  “Did someone die?” Lauren asked.

  “Nope, not even close,” Ike grouched, but Ike liked to grouch. He could win the Mega Millions and be pissed about it.

  “Then did I miss a memo or something?”

  Terry nodded. “Pretty much. We all did.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Now that we’re all here, let’s get started.” Everyone looked to Ike in his rumpled shirt, tie askew. His rubbed his bloodshot eyes but still managed a tired, yet happy, smile. “The league is forcing the Sleezers to sell, and we have a potential buyer.”

  Obviously this was news to everyone except Terry, Ike, and Coach Ferrar.

  “Seriously? Who?” They lived through these rumors every couple months; never before had it justified an early Sunday meeting. The Sleezer brothers, not-so-fondly known around the team headquarters as the Sleazies, had gone back and forth about selling the team while they bled it dry in order to finance their yacht, mansions, parties, and women. Upstanding citizens, the Sleazies. It was no secret the league wanted them banned from their exclusive club of owners.

  “We don’t know other than they have deep pockets. Very deep.”

  “This team deserves deep pockets and decent owners who’ll build on what we’ve done.” Lauren could tell by Ike’s lack of a frown, he thought losing the Sleezers was a damn good thing.

  “Why are we meeting at O-dark-thirty? Couldn’t this wait until Monday?” Kaley, Lauren’s best friend, rubbed her eyes and yawned. Last Lauren had seen of her, she’d been dancing on the bar with one of the rookies, wearing an ice bucket on her head, and doing tequila shots.

  “It can’t wait. The league is putting on the pressure.” Ike appeared to be nursing a hangover himself.

  “What kind of pressure?” Lauren honestly didn’t understand why they were here early Sunday morning after the team had won their biggest game in years.

  “Money talks and the league listens.” Ike rubbed his eyes, looking worse than Lauren felt. “The prospective buyers are sending a couple representatives to vet the team, and the league wants us to play nice and be on our best behavior.”

  “Who are these guys?” Terry asked the question that was on the tip of everyone’s tongue.

  “No one knows.” Ike grimaced. He obviously hated not knowing what he was getting into and with whom.

  “Someone does,” Lauren pointed out the obvious. “Or they wouldn’t have ordered us to kiss their asses.”

  “They’ll be here on Monday and underfoot at every game from this point forward.”

  “As in tomorrow?” Lauren was still in shock, trying to process what these changes meant to the team, the staff, and her. “This is a good thing, right?”

  “Getting rid of the Sleezers can only be a good thing,” Terry answered.

  A smattering of applause erupted around the room. No one could dispute that fact.

  “They aren’t planning on moving the team, are they?” Lauren asked.

  Ike smiled, but Lauren caught the concern that flashed in his eyes. “Ah, Lauren, ever the skeptic. No, no plans to move the team.”

  Lauren couldn’t help being skeptical. Her life consisted of a long line of promises made and never kept, starting with her beloved father who put hockey over family until her mother divorced him and embraced being a bitter, vindictive woman. Then Lauren repeated her mother’s mistake by marrying a hockey player herself, and that sure as hell hadn’t ended well.

  “We meet with these guys first thing Monday morning. In the meantime, we need to be ready for any questions they ask us. The Sleezers must go, and it’s up to us to make sure these guys don’t leave Florida without a recommendation to their bosses to buy the team. I expect every one of you to play nice with them and give them the information they request, of
course, while putting the organization in the most positive light possible.”

  Lauren nodded. Getting rid of the Sleezers seemed almost too good to be true.

  Which was exactly why it made her nervous.

  Chapter 2—Playing His Game

  Ethan never went into a situation unprepared, especially a potentially volatile one.

  Before he walked into the building on Monday, he knew everything about every staff person down to the security guy and the janitor.

  He stood at the head of the table in a packed conference room consisting of Giants’ management and coaches. He made eye contact with each and every person there, mentally checking off their names based on pictures and video he’d studied. They stared back at him with hopeful expressions on their faces as if he was their savior not their dismantler. Ethan felt a twinge of guilt, even remorse, over what he was about to do, but he tamped it down. There was no room for emotions in business dealings, and he’d never allowed them to color his decisions in the past. They wouldn’t now.

  None of the research done by his Seattle staff had prepared him for Lauren Schneider—the woman he’d secretly handpicked to be his team liaison. Lauren was smart, ambitious, and as a woman in a man’s world was bent on proving herself in this male-dominated sport. Best of all, she had a brilliant hockey mind. All perfect qualities for the type of person he needed to give him an insider’s knowledge.

  She didn’t look a thing like her father, but she did have his attitude, and Ethan liked attitude—to a point. Lauren wore a functional pair of shoes and a conservative business suit with a knee-length skirt. No stilettoes for this woman. Her brown hair was confined to a tight bun at the back of her head.

  Actually, she’d be quite pretty if she played up her assets, instead of downplaying them. He’d like to see her brown hair fall in soft waves about her face; why he was even thinking that, he hadn’t a fucking clue. The minimal makeup and business suit did nothing to hide the attractive woman sitting before him, arms crossed over a nice pair and a scowl on her pretty face. He almost laughed, but laughing at her bad-ass façade wouldn’t exactly earn points with her, and he needed to win her over to his side.

  He’d have to relax her a little so she’d fit in in Seattle—if she went to Seattle with the team. A true Pacific Northwesterner dressed in jeans and sweatshirts, even wearing good jeans to nice restaurants. Northwest casual they called it. Ethan liked casual. With Lauren’s buttoned-up style, he wasn’t sure if he liked her—not yet, but he didn’t give a shit. As long as she did her job and furnished him with the required information, he’d be fine with that.

  She watched him with more wariness than the others, as if she wasn’t as easily won over. He was fine with that, too. As long as she did her job, he didn’t care if she liked him or not.

  Brad didn’t take a seat but stood against the wall at the opposite end of the room, getting a view of the group Ethan didn’t have. His partner appeared to be paying attention and watching with an unusual intensity. Sometimes Brad surprised him, and the work his buddy had done to secure the arena and this team went above and beyond with an enthusiasm Brad rarely displayed for activities outside of partying and women.

  Ethan pulled his attention back to the hopeful faces gazing up at him from around the room. “I’m Ethan Williams, and I apologize for calling you in so early on a Monday morning. As you know, the league has long been interested in seeking new ownership for this franchise. I’ve been hired as an independent consultant to assess the value of this team and report back to the interested parties.”

  Ethan paused, swept his gaze around the room, and did a quick assessment to determine the receptiveness of the staff and coaches. Lauren’s direct stare was more of a challenge than anything, seeming to say, prove to me you can help this team.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth because of her intensity, as if this was the most important thing on earth—and to her it obviously was. He’d done his research, and she appeared to be the type of employee he wanted to retain. Not a “yes” person or a member of the good ol’ boys, but an employee who’d give him the straight scoop whether he liked what she had to say or not.

  He’d made the right choice when it came to her.

  “I’ll make this short, as you have playoffs to concentrate on.”

  A small smattering of applause sounded around the room. He’d earned a few points with that remark.

  He turned his attention back to Lauren. Despite her librarian appearance, she was easy on the eyes. Let his sister get ahold of her and Rebecca would turn her into a stunner. Realizing he was gawking, Ethan cleared his throat. “I’m going to need a staff person to take me under her wing and show me the ropes. It was suggested that Lauren be my guide.”

  He nodded at Lauren. She pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  Several of the men murmured their agreement, probably glad they didn’t have to babysit him.

  Ethan spoke briefly about not much of anything in an attempt to put them at ease, maybe mislead them a bit regarding his hockey knowledge without actually lying. After all, his mere presence here was a big enough lie.

  As everyone filed out, he signaled for Lauren to stay. She approached him with that same wariness, yet he must have won her over slightly because he also noted hopefulness in her expression.

  “Mr. Williams,” she nodded. “Where would you like to start?”

  He liked that. Straight and to the point. “Lauren, call me Ethan.” He shot her one of his woman-melting smiles, but she froze instead. “I’m a huge fan of your father’s. I’ll never forget his winning goal in the Gold Medal game against Canada.”

  Lauren nodded tersely, as if no amount of flattery would get him anywhere with her. Fine, he’d prefer to keep it strictly business and dispense with the niceties.

  “Let’s get down to business, shall we? I understand you’re quite the evaluator of hockey talent.”

  “I hold my own. I was raised in a hockey rink.” Lauren looked up and met his gaze. For the first time in their brief conversation, she seemed caught off balance, as if his words of praise were unexpected and uncommon. Not surprising for a woman fighting to make it in a man’s world.

  He knew she was the youngest of three and the only girl. Her parents were divorced, and she’d traded time between her mother’s home in Florida and her father in New York. She’d graduated with a bachelor’s in sports management from the University of Michigan. She had the credentials and the bloodlines to be a great asset to a hockey team, but she’d been passed over time and again because of her lack of a penis. As a favor to her father, the Giants hired her years ago as an administrative assistant, and she’d worked her way up. She was a fighter, this one, just like her father and brothers. And her name sat at the top of his initial keeper list.

  “I’m a hands-on guy. I’m going to be living and breathing this place for the next month or two or at least until the team’s season ends—hopefully with the Cup.”

  “Wonderful.” She stared at him as if trying to figure out what made him tick, most likely assessing him for weaknesses she might need to exploit. “You’re not a hockey guy, are you?”

  Ethan bristled, fully aware he wasn’t part of the good ol’ boys’ hockey club. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because I know everyone in this league and I don’t know you.”

  Ethan opened his mouth to defend himself then thought better of it. If she believed he didn’t have hockey knowledge, she could let valuable information slip, information she might not normally give in order to protect the people she worked with and the team she supported.

  No one knew he played adult hockey with a fervor that matched an NHL player’s. No one needed to know he’d lived and breathed hockey for years, having been initiated into the sport by a Canadian bachelor uncle who lived in Vancouver.

  “I don’t consider that relevant. I’m evaluating this team from a business and an investment point of view. You’re here to help
me get to know the players, stuff I won’t learn from game tape or reading online articles. I assure you, what I lack in hockey knowledge I’ll make up for with sheer dogged determination.”

  She stared at him open-mouthed, completely at a loss for words for once.

  “I need to meet with the coaching staff. When I return, we’ll go over each player’s strengths and weaknesses. A high level but accurate assessment. I’m a big picture person. For example, where do these guys fit in the organization? I pay others to handle the details.”

  “Like me?” She nodded, but he could tell she didn’t appreciate him ordering her around.

  “Yeah, just like you.”

  He left her office, feeling a bit like an ass for his high-handedness, yet aware this situation could get out of control pretty fast if he didn’t squelch the first sign of concern from the team or the staff.

  Still, her dark eyes staring at him, almost fearfully, didn’t make what he had to do any easier. Very few of these people would be going to Seattle with him. He valued loyalty above all else, and his staff needed to be one-hundred-percent loyal to him and his cause, not to the good-ol-boys’ club which had been controlling this team for close to two decades.

  * * * *

  Lauren had stepped over the line. She’d possibly insulted this man, and his blue eyes had blazed, not with anger as much as a challenge, one she didn’t wholly understand.

  The next several weeks would be pure, absolute torture. Not only was Ethan an enigma, but he was attractive as hell. With that same sixth sense which made her a wizard at evaluating hockey talent, she sensed there was more to Ethan than he’d revealed. He was hiding something, and that unknown made her uncomfortable and intrigued at the same time, not to mention she was hot for him. She’d be a liar to deny it.

  As she pondered this bewildering mess she’d found herself immersed in, Kaley, her friend and the coach’s administrative assistant, peeked around the door. “What did you say to him?”