Charm on the Rocks: A Slapshot Prequel (Slapshot Prequel Trilogy Book 3)

by Heather C. Myers

  Madison took a moment to take in the sight of him. Even she couldn’t deny the magnetic pull his mere presence triggered in both men and women alike, and judging by the small gathering of predominantly female audience, it was a safe bet to say that this Alec Schumacher was indeed charming. He was closer to her than Thorpe had been, and as a result, the first thing she noticed about him were his midnight blue almost black eyes. Even she had to take a moment to allow herself to take in his obvious beauty, despite her rationale trying to talk her out of becoming attracted to him. Like many of the other players, he had broad shoulders and had a nice balance of muscle for his tall frame. His hair was dirty blond, and if he hadn’t pushed back the locks from his face, they would surely fall into his face, even hiding his striking eyes.

  But even with his obvious beauty, Madison felt her resolve begin to steel itself off from him. Not that he would even look her way, what with the gorgeous selection he had in front of him, but it was nice to know he couldn’t woo her even if he tried.

  And then, as if he could feel her looking at him – and really, maybe he could – he looked up and directly at her. She swallowed, not fully believing that things like this actually happened outside of chick flicks and young adult novels, but forced herself to keep eye contact with him. She wouldn’t smile, wouldn’t wink or look at all suggestive. If she wanted to convey anything, it was that she knew he was attractive but she didn’t care.

  “Don’t worry,” Madison said, breaking eye contact first in order to look at her friend. “Jocks aren’t really my type.”

  Chapter 2

  She liked the first outfit better. Madison glanced at herself in the full-length mirror located in the locker room below the main floor at Sea Side Ice Palace, the ice rink the Newport Beach Seagulls called home and where the Gulls Girls would be taking their team photo. Apparently this shoot had been arranged before Ken’s death, and since he didn’t want to pay the photographers to come back twice, the Girls would be taking the ice right after the players themselves. Given the outfit of choice, however, Madison wished the old man had sprung for a day two.

  It wasn’t as though she was embarrassed of her body, but even she had some insecurities she didn’t want presented to the world so vividly. And the outfit wasn’t like the one she would normally be wearing – tight pants and a short shirt - because it was much more revealing and Madison was certain the hair on her arms would draw a viewer away from the pretty faces due to how erect they were standing even now, and she wasn’t even on the ice yet. The shirts were the same black, three-quarter sleeved tops, with a blunt diamond shaped cut that enhanced a Girl’s cleavage, and the material ended just underneath her breasts. The Gulls’ name was scrawled out across the chest in navy blue cursive. Stomachs were bare up until the hip bone, where a matching black mini skirt that reached just above mid-thigh took over for censorship. The coolest part of the outfit, at least in Madison’s mind, was the socks that reached the knees, with black, red, and white horizontal stripes symbolizing the nautical colors of the Gulls, and concluding the outfit were ice skates. Makeup was enhanced in order to bring out the best features each Girl possessed while hiding the subtle flaws that composed some of the face. It was more makeup Madison had ever worn, and she was one of the few Girls who didn’t have very much on – just the typical foundation and powder, eyeliner and mascara, and gloss pink gloss across her lips. Some Girls needed blush or eye shadow in order to accent cheekbones and eye colors that simply didn’t pop.

  “You know,” Amanda said, coming up behind Madison in the same outfit as her friend. Like Madison, Amanda’s red hair was left down, but the curls contrasted with Madison’s straight tresses. “The most beautiful thing a girl can wear is a smile.”

  “Is it really that obvious?” Madison asked in a soft voice. She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side as she turned so her back was facing the mirror and she looked at Amanda directly. “I’ve never worn anything this revealing before. I mean, besides that bikini from yesterday, but we were at a beach, you know?”

  “Dude, who cares what anyone thinks of you,” Amanda said, her brown eyes sparkling. “Under normal circumstances, do you worry about the way you look? Like, when you get ready for school?”

  “Not really...”

  Amanda reached out and grabbed Madison’s arms that were crossed around her stomach. “Pretend that this is school,” she suggested. “I’m not going to lie and say looks are unimportant, but even you know that we are so much more than that. We’re smart and we work hard and the outfit that we’re wearing does not represent who we are, it represents our support for a team we cheer for. And obviously you’re gorgeous or else you wouldn’t have gotten the job, as harsh as that may sound.”

  “You think so?” Madison asked, and she hated how eager her voice came out.

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “God, you’re not one of those girls who doesn’t realize she’s beautiful, are you?” she asked. “Because, yeah, they may be endearing in, like, romantic comedies and stuff, but in real life, they’re so annoying. Madison, this job requires you to have confidence about the way you look because no matter what, people are going to talk. You have to be thick-skinned. Do you think you can do that?”

  “As long as I have you on my ass to remind me,” Madison said, smiling for the first time since arriving.

  “Oh, trust me, with your ass, I’ll be there.”

  The two girls shared a laugh, interlocking their arms together and heading out onto the ice. Madison was surprised at how diverse the team looked, even in the same uniform. There were blondes and brunettes, three girls with jet black hair, and Amanda standing out as the only red-head. There were Asians and Caucasians, and girl from Persia, and one from Spain, all composing a fourteen-player team. If Madison was honest, she found that she was proud to be a part of a group of such different girls with at least one similarity, and as a result, felt her body slowly start to relax.

  One of the photographers positioned her on top of the goal so that her back was against another Girl, this one Erica. Madison’s left hand gripped the red horizontal pole, her right knee bent up while her left one stuck straight out. Her face was tilted to the camera while sections of her hair were placed over her breasts. Two Girls were positioned on each side of the goal while six Girls kneeled down on the ice, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Finally, two Girls were sprawled out on the ice, almost lying down had it not been for the elbow resting on the cold ice that kept them up. Their legs were out in front of them, crossed at the ankles, their free hand resting on their bent knee.

  Madison didn’t count how many pictures that they took of she and the Girls, but once they wrapped, she felt her cheeks pinch from all the smiling. As she skated off the ice, she couldn’t help but laugh to herself. It was fun, she could admit.

  “See?” Amanda said once they were off the ice. She nudged Madison with her shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Madison agreed.

  Once they reached the locker room, their boss – coach? Madison wasn’t sure – Lara Stinson called them over before anybody could begin to change. She looked as if she could be a former Gulls Girl. Though she was in her mid-forties, she could get away with claiming early thirties, and depending on what she was wearing, could say twenty-nine. Lara seemed to be composed of predictable preferences. Her brown hair was pulled into its usual ponytail, and she was wearing her usual color, black. On her feet were worn pink ballet slippers that could have been attached to her feet given how constantly she wore them. Each finger besides her thumbs was occupied by a different ring, and she wore bright red lipstick but no other form of makeup. Many of the girls were weirded out by her strangeness, but Madison found she was drawn to Lara’s eccentric appearance and behavior; she seemed to know exactly who she was, and didn’t need anyone’s approval.

  “Girls, girls.” Her voice was low and soothing but had a firmness that caught attention, and she always began wit
h a ‘Girls, girls.’ “There’s a required meeting being held just outside by Seraphina Hanson, Ken’s granddaughter. Quickly change, quickly! And then meet outside. Players should already be lining up.”

  “What do you think they’re going to talk about?” Madison asked Amanda as the two began to peel off the skin tight material from their bodies.

  “Probably what’s going to happen to the team,” Amanda replied. “I have an older brother Stewart who loves the Gulls, so he’ll always call me to figure out what’s going on, to get him tickets, that sort of thing. Anyway, he’s a huge ESPN guy, right? Apparently on one of their news shows, the anchor was saying the Gulls need to figure out what they’re going to do because Ken wasn’t just the owner but the manager, and without a clear person running the team, the team will go into what they call limbo, which means they may not get to play as an NHL team this season.”

  “That’s awful,” Madison murmured.

  Amanda nodded with enthusiasm. “Right? It means that we’d be out of a job, the players and coaches and trainers and all those people. And not that Newport needs it or anything, but without our hockey team, the city loses a lot of revenue generated by fans and tourists and all that stuff.”

  “What do think is going to happen?” Madison didn’t realize just how much she wanted to keep this job – despite the discomfort the outfits would no doubt bring – and hoped that it wouldn’t come to being disbanded.

  Amanda shrugged her shoulders before pulling on a t-shirt. “I don’t know,” she said. “But we can always hope for the best.”

  The two quickly finished dressing and were among the first of the Gulls Girls to reach where the meeting was being held – just to the side of where all the ice skates were located. They formed a small group adjacent to where the players, who were also dressed in street clothes, stood. In only a moment, the rest of the Girls arrived. A couple of them looked at their phones, checking the time. Some even were texting. The players seemed a little more impatient for the meeting to begin. She noticed Kyle, Matt, and Alec in the center. The chemistry between the three of them implied that they were close friends off the ice just as they were on the ice. She saw as Kyle said something and Matt responded with a shake of his head.

  Wait – wasn’t he dating the older granddaughter? Katella? If so, wouldn’t he already know the outcome of what was going to happen? Maybe he did and told his team ahead of time, which was why they looked so... anxious. Maybe the team was going to go in limbo and they wouldn’t be able to play anymore.

  But she couldn’t read anything more from Matt’s face. He was either good at hiding what was going to happen or he honestly didn’t know.

  And maybe he didn’t. Maybe his girlfriend didn’t tell him anything. Maybe his girlfriend didn’t know. The meeting was being held by Seraphina after all.

  Madison felt her converse-clad foot start to tap against the cool concrete, her arms crossing over her chest. Her own impatience was increasing with each passing moment that she didn’t know what was going to happen to her, to her team. She knew these girls for only a few weeks, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Faye might not like her very much, but she began to look forward to see them. Hell, she was even getting excited at starting the whole scraping the ice process and watching her first hockey game. Because even though her father loved hockey, she was busy doing other things. Like going on hikes.

  Finally, she heard the clack-clack-clack of someone coming down the long hallway. Everyone craned their heads in order to see if it was – Yes, it was Seraphina Hanson, or so said Amanda. Madison had never seen or met Seraphina, and she couldn’t help but feel a sudden kinship with the woman because Seraphina seemed to be new to this foreign society of hockey, and it looked as though that while she tried to carry herself with confident posture, she had an entire world on her slender shoulders.

  It was her eyes, Madison decided. Though she was a few feet away, walking to where a small bench had been placed so Seraphina could stand and her audience would able to see and hear her, Madison was stricken by the uncommon color of Seraphina’s eyes. They were predominantly a sea-blue color, but golden flecks splashed across the irises resembled a sunset or a sunrise depending on how you viewed life on the ocean. And the funny thing was, Seraphina wasn’t actually wearing makeup unless chapstick counted. If she splashed on eyeliner, those eyes would be the focal point of any room, crowded or empty.

  Seraphina stepped up to the podium, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

  ---

  Madison couldn’t even imagine what Seraphina was going through. Her grandfather died just last week – probably murdered, or that was what Amanda claimed she heard – and she inherited the team – a team she knew absolutely nothing about – where no doubt she’d get shit from opposing teams and owners as well as her own players and staff. She set herself up for criticisms, constructive or not, from everybody simply to continue on her grandfather’s loyalty. On top of that, she had to deal with her grandfather’s death. It sounded like they had been close, too.

  Madison was just a girl from a small town. No one in her family had died; she even had both sets of grandparents still alive and kicking. It was such a strange concept to her, but seeing a victim of a loss just reinforced the concept of mortality and reminded her that she was lucky.

  “I think I like her,” Amanda said.

  Madison was thankful for the interruption. Death wasn’t a subject she liked to dwell on too much. “Me, too,” she agreed.

  “I wonder what she has to talk to Thorpe about,” Amanda said, directing her brown eyes at the two as they headed up the stairs by themselves.

  “Well, you said he was the one who was holding out for more money, right?” Madison asked. “She probably wants some final decision made, especially if preseason starts soon.”

  Amanda’s face suddenly paled. “You don’t think that Thorpe, I mean with talks about money and everything, you don’t think he could” – She stopped herself, noticing someone behind Madison, and forced a smile. “Alec, good to see you.” She looked over at Madison, and her brown eyes calmed down a bit from the worry they had just held. “I’ll see you later, Mad. Take care.” And just like that, Amanda disappeared up the stairs.

  Madison frowned as she turned to face Alec, her mind wracking with all the possibilities that Amanda might have said had it not been for the man standing in front of her, staring at her without any shame. Did Amanda think that Thorpe could actually kill Ken over money? Certainly Thorpe would rather see himself traded than resort to something as awful and as life-changing as murder. Although, residing in Newport Beach, living in a huge mansion minutes – if that – from the beach, with beautiful weather and women, a laidback environment, dedicated fans, could potentially be a motive, couldn’t it? Why would Thorpe want to be traded when he could live here and make more money?

  Thorpe had to know that if he even did commit the murder, it didn’t guarantee him his demands, especially not with a new owner who knew absolutely nothing about hockey.

  “Hey.” The voice was low and confident, but surprisingly enough, there was an element of sweetness in it, and as Madison focused her eyes on Alec, tried to decipher whether it was genuine or forced in order to add to his endearment.

  “Hi,” she said, her tone flat.

  “I’m Alec Schumacher,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know.” He seemed to like this response, but before the entire smile eclipsed his face, Madison continued, “I heard you get lectured by the new owner.”

  “Oh.” His smile fell, but she had to hand it to him, he didn’t retreat to the safety of his friends with his tail between his legs. “Yeah, well it was a dumb question, I guess.”

  This surprised her even more than his tenacity, to actually admit that he was the one who said something rather stupid instead of blowing off Seraphina’s answer as a part of her just being a bitch. Dare she think it was refreshing?

  “Anyway,” he continued, clapping his hands together and
locking eyes with Madison once again. “You’re the only Gulls Girl I haven’t introduced myself to. I know most of them from last season. Like I said, I’m Alec.” He extended his hand, and before Madison thought better of it, she reciprocated the gesture. “You must be new because I definitely would have remembered you.”

  She snorted. And she didn’t even try to stop herself. She laughed at him. “Seriously?” she asked, giving him a pointed stare.

  “Seriously what?” he asked, and though he didn’t sound particularly angry at such a blunt refusal, he did sound somewhat annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow, waiting for her response.

  The more she stared at him, the more Madison realized that yes, she was definitely attracted to him. Now that she saw him up close, he was about half a head taller than she was, and his body was toned with muscles. Even now, crossing his arms over his chest caused his biceps to strangle the thin material of his t-shirt, and his eyes had a kindness about them that other so-called players couldn’t claim. Even so, she didn’t want to put her heart through the ringer; it had had enough pain in its twenty-two years of life and wasn’t quite ready to jump back in the ring just yet.

  “That’s the best you could come up with?” she asked. She sighed, her shoulders sagging forward. “How... disappointing.”

  “Excuse me?” He still didn’t understand, but he did appear to somewhat surprised that his usual flattery wasn’t working on her. It would take more than one superficial pickup line and good looks to wrap Madison Montgomery around his finger.

  “Well, ever since I joined the team, everyone warned me about what a ladies’ man you are, how charming you are,” she explained. Then she shrugged her shoulders, making sure to keep eye contact with him. Which was rather easy to do because she really did have a weakness for blue eyes. “I guess they’ve all been exaggerating your prowess, though, because that line you just used is lackluster and unoriginal.” She reached up and squeezed his shoulder which felt just as broad as it looked. Before she could think too much on it, she released him, her arm dropping back to her side. Offering him a sympathetic smile, she added, “Better luck next time.”