“Just ruined their lungs.” J.J. rolled her eyes. “But other than that, it’s never done any harm.” She glanced through the opening into the rink, her lips pursed as she took in the chipped paint, broken railings and busted plexi-glass once more.
Kevin locked the register then looked her way. “Well, just so you know, this was the place to skate back in the 90s.”
“I see they still have most of the décor from that era.” J.J. pointed to some faded photos on the wall. “The problem is, this place was built by guys, decorated by guys and maintained by guys. It hasn’t had a woman’s touch in, well, forever.”
“Not true.” A female voice sounded and a pretty woman approached. “I haven’t been here long but I’ve tried like crazy to implement some changes. I always get the same answer: ‘There’s not enough money.” She smiled at J.J. “I’m Chrissy, by the way. Jaden’s mom. I work in concessions.”
“Nice to meet you.” J.J. extended her hand. Finally, a friendly face.
Chrissy shook her hand and then called out, “Jaden, you ready? We need to get home.”
At that moment the young hockey player with the dark hair entered the lobby. He glanced Kevin’s way and smiled. “You want to grab dinner, Kevin? Mom wants Chinese.”
“Yeah, I have a craving for Lo Mein.” Chrissy shrugged. “What can I say?”
“Chinese sounds good.” Kevin slipped his arm around the youngster’s shoulders. “By the way, you did a great job out there this evening, Jaden. I’m really proud of you.” He gave the boy a warm hug and J.J. had to wonder about the family-like dynamic between these three.
Jaden startled to attention. “I left my bag in the locker room. Be right back.” He took off out of the lobby and J.J. watched as he disappeared from view.
“Seems like a great kid,” she said.
“The best.” Chrissy and Kevin answered in duplicate, then both of them looked at each other and laughed.
J.J. rubbed at her nose, still trying to rid the mold smell from her nostrils. “Well, I’d better head out so you guys can get dinner. Guess I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Yeah. See you then.” Kevin turned back to talk to Jaden as he entered the lobby once again. Feeling more like an outsider than before, J.J. headed to her car, ready to get out of this place, once and for all.
Chapter Three
J.J. spent the next couple of days dealing with the Price-Wise project, though her thoughts kept drifting back to Libby. The kid really had a lot going for her. No denying that. J.J. strategized their upcoming lesson. They would work on the girl’s double Axel, for sure, and pick out some music for a routine. Maybe, if all went as planned, she could enter the United States Figure Skating Competition in June. At the Galleria. Not that going back to the Galleria held much appeal, but J.J. would do it for Libby’s sake, not her own.
By the time Thursday rolled around J.J. had four pieces of music to choose from and several thoughts about the layout of the routine. Hopefully Libby and her mom would like her ideas. She drove to the rink, her thoughts firmly wrapped around the upcoming lesson. Well, that, and Ann-Marie’s suggestion that she start a figure skating program at the rink. How could she possibly manage that and keep her job? She’d have to call in a couple of other coaches, if the idea developed. And she’d also have to contact the United States Figure Skating Association.
Or forget the whole idea. Who had time for this, anyway? With Price-Wise needing her full attention, she decided to let go of the thought, at least for now.
She arrived at the rink a full hour ahead of schedule and found Kevin in the lobby. With the afternoon sunlight pouring through the front windows, the worn-out, dusty room seemed worse than ever.
“Welcome to The Big Skate.” Kevin’s voice sounded from the kiosk. “Glad you decided to come back. Wasn’t so sure we’d see you again after the reception we gave you the other night.”
J.J. shrugged. “Of course I’m back. I’m here for Libby. And Ann-Marie.”
He sighed. “I’m really sorry about my lack of enthusiasm. I think I was just caught off-guard by the idea of adding a figure skating program. I’ve had a little time to think about it—and pray about it—and it wouldn’t hurt our image any, I guess.”
“You guess?” She laughed. “If it makes you feel any better I’m not sure I have time to put together a full program. I mean, not now. Not without help, anyway.”
“I get it. I know what it’s like to be overloaded. If you feel like you’re okay with it, then I am too. But if you’re not…” He shrugged.
“We’ll just take it a day at a time. I’ll start with Libby and see how she does, then, maybe, talk to a coach or two about taking on other students.” She glanced around the room. “But, if we do that…”
“You’re still worried about how the place looks?” He released a sigh. “I get it. Just haven’t had the funds to fix things up. Between you and me, we’re barely staying afloat right now. There’s no money for renovating.”
“Well, you don’t have to do everything at once.” She dropped her bag on the counter of the kiosk and gave the foyer a thoughtful look. “I’d probably just start right here, with the lobby, since it’s the first place people see when they come in.”
“What would you do?” Kevin leaned against the counter and gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m willing to listen to ideas as long as they don’t break the bank.”
“For one thing, the framed photos are covered in dust. I’d pull them all down, paint the wall in some color that matches your theme.”
“Our theme?”
“Right. Assuming you have a color-theme for the place? Have you ever met with an advertising rep to talk about branding?”
“Branding?”
“Yeah. You know. The colors of the building match the colors of your business cards, your website, and your brochures. Branding. Consistency.”
“The only thing consistent about this place is the lack of income.”
“Well, that would change if you branded yourself, I promise. The Big Skate. That name makes a big promise. When people come here to skate—and I’m assuming you have lots of open sessions for the public—they’re gonna have a ‘big’ time. So you need colors that support that idea. What about teal?”
“Teal? Huh?”
“You need a main color, for sure.” She walked around the room, deep in thought. “You should capitalize on what you’ve already got. These photos go back several decades.”
“Right.”
“We could clean them up and group them, decade-by-decade.”
“Maybe. They date back to the 60s.”
“I saw that. So, take advantage of that and do a 60s-themed wall with flower power images and put the awards in there. And then do a 70s themed case and put the awards from the 70s in there. And so on. But don’t overload the cases. Pick the trophies that matter most to the rink.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“I work in advertising. It’s what I do.”
“Trust me, all the advertising in the world won’t fix this place. And I can’t even imagine trying to sell Uncle Rusty on the idea of converting the foyer into a walk down memory lane.”
“Didn’t Rusty retire? Aren’t you the manager now?”
Kevin grunted. “In theory. I’m not complaining. He’s a great asset and I’m so busy coaching that it helps to have him around to handle the details. And Ann-Marie’s great, too. I don’t mind admitting, she’s been good for him.”
“Then let’s do this for them. And for you. I really think you can make this place a success if you just give it a facelift. Start with the lobby, then fix up the concessions area.”
“Yeah. Chrissy’s had some ideas there, too, but I just haven’t wanted to pay for an overhaul.”
“You’ll make your money back, I’m sure. And you can always raise your prices on the food. Do some comparison shopping at other venues to see what they’re charging for nachos, soda, pizza slices, and so on.”
J.J. smiled, suddenly seeing this handsome guy as a hero to the kids he cared for. “This brings me to my next idea: sponsorships. Look, I know you’re losing money on the hockey program. Ann-Marie told me. So, what if you gave people in the community an opportunity to invest in the players—not just team sponsorships, but individual ones? You could use those monies to really train the kids the way you need, but you could also let some of it spill over into the concessions area so you could feed the kids…as much as you like.”
“I’m already doing that.” He raked his fingers through his gorgeous dark hair.
“Doing what?”
“Feeding them. A lot. Half these boys come in after school and eat me out of house and home.”
“And then skate for free. In uniforms that you pay for. But someone has to keep the lights on and the microwave running, right? So, look at getting those sponsorships. Then you can stop stressing about providing the funds, yourself.”
He sat down on a rickety chair and sighed. Loudly. “This conversation is exhausting.”
“Sorry.” J.J. offered a little shrug. “I was kind of hoping it would be invigorating or inspiring.”
“It is.” His body posture changed. With shoulders now slumped forward and wrinkles creasing his brow, she could tell she’d lost him.
J.J. took a seat in the chair next to him. “Kevin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I really want the best for your rink. I do. This place is filled with memories for you and your uncle, but I’m afraid it’s going to be pointless if you’re not careful. You’ve got to think ahead. That’s all I’m saying. And please forgive me, but as an advertiser I’m always thinking like this about businesses. It’s what I do.”
“Think ahead, eh?” Rusty’s voice rang out from the front door. J.J. looked over to see him standing with a smiling Ann-Marie at his side. “The only thing I’m thinking ahead to is my wedding day.”
“Wedding day?” Kevin rose and the chair almost slipped out from under him.
“Wait…” J.J. leaped from her seat and took several steps in Rusty’s direction. “Are you saying that you—”
“Popped the question?” Rusty clasped his hands together in obvious delight. “Sure did. And this lovely lady said yes. She’s agreed to be my bride.”
J.J. glanced back and forth between them, her excitement growing. “So you guys are—”
“Gettin’ hitched.” Ann-Marie extended her left hand to show off a delicate ring with a small diamond. “Just a couple of months from now. May 3rd, to be precise. Think you guys can have the place cleaned up by then? ‘Cause we want to get married right here, at The Big Skate.”
~
Kevin found himself half-confused and half-mesmerized by his uncle’s announcement. So, Uncle Rusty was going to settle down with the woman of his dreams…and wanted a dream wedding to seal the deal.
“You really sure want to get married here?” he asked. “At the rink?” Seemed like an odd plan to him.
“Sure.” Ann-Marie said. “Why rent a venue when we’ve got this place? I’ve got a plan to say our I Do’s in the very center of the ice with our guests seated in the stands. But the building needs a little TLC first.”
“I’ll say.” J.J. added, then gave Kevin a knowing look. “We were just talking about that. Right, Kevin?”
“R-right.” He hated to rain on their parade, but…eight weeks? Were they serious? With spring training going on? With hockey players surrounding him on every side? With no money in the bank?
“What do you think? Can we do it by then?” Ann-Marie’s smile seemed to fade a bit as she voiced the question.
“Sure. We’ll get ‘er done.” Kevin couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, but there they were. He’d committed himself. And, judging from the encouraging smile on J.J.’s face, she was fully onboard.
Off she went on a tangent, about all of their plans to renovate the lobby, to turn it into a walk down memory lane. Then she and Ann-Marie switched gears and started talking about the rink’s interior—the ice, the Zamboni…everything.
Great. Before long they’d be changing up the colors of the hockey uniforms, too.
Colors.
Teal.
Ugh.
Had he really told J.J. he’d paint the lobby teal?
On the other hand, if her eyes continued to sparkle, if her voice carried this cheerful tone, how could he turn the girl down? If she wanted him to paint the whole place hot pink, he’d do it.
Chapter Four
Less than a week after Ann-Marie and Rusty announced their engagement, J.J. and Kevin started working on the lobby’s overhaul. They met on a Sunday evening after hockey practice and had the place to themselves. J.J. couldn’t stop sneezing as they pulled down the pictures and set them aside.
“No offense, but when’s the last time you guys dusted?” she asked as she rubbed her nose.
“Dusted?” He placed a stack of pictures on the kiosk.
“I guess that answers my question.” She laughed. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll make sure we get everything clean before you start painting.”
“Wait…before ‘you’ start painting?” He gave her a playful look. “I thought you were helping.”
“I am helping. I’m taking pictures down.” She pointed to one just out of reach. “Can you help me with this one? I’m too short.”
“Sure.” He drew close, the smell of his cologne offering a nice distraction from the mold. “I’ll get that for you.” He took his time reaching above her head and she had to wonder about his deliberate nearness. For someone who had feelings for Chrissy, he sure seemed to be flirting. Or maybe she was misreading this somehow. He reached over her to grab the photo. When he remained close a little longer than expected, her cheeks grew warm. Until he released a groan. “Are you playing classical music again?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I asked Rusty to turn it on before he left. Hope you don’t mind. It’s inspiring, and it helps clear my mind after a long week.”
He pulled away from her, dusty photo in hand. “Just so you know, my guys are complaining.”
“About classical music?” J.J. put her hands on her hips. “It won’t kill them. Might make them more refined.”
“Refined?” he snorted. “Have you met thirteen and fourteen-year-old boys?” Kevin walked to the kiosk area muttering under his breath.
“Yes. They could stand a bit of refinement.”
“Just don’t put any of them in a tutu and we’ll get along just fine.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about there. And just for the record, tutus are worn at ballet recitals, not ice skating competitions.”
“Whatever.” He gave her a broad smile. “But you get the point. I can’t picture any of the guys doing those weird moves, anyway.”
“Weird moves?”
“Yeah. That Lutz thing? And what’s up with all of the arched backs?”
“Arched backs?”
“Yeah.” He gave her a knowing look. “Every move…arched backs. Libby’s going to have a curved spine when she get older.” He showed off an exaggerated position, his back arched in comical style. “You see what I mean? A person could end up hospitalized after spinning around in this position. Why would you do that to an innocent kid? What if she froze like that?”
“It’s proper posture for a layback spin. But if you’re so worried about kids getting hurt, why do you let the boys slam into each other on the ice? Hockey is brutal. Deadly.” A shiver ran down J.J.’s spine. “I worry all the time when I see how harsh that sport is.”
“At least my guys won’t end up with curvature of the spine.”
“No, just broken spines. And broken arms. And legs.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disag
ree on which is the more dangerous sport, okay?”
“Nah. I’ll win that argument, anyway.”
He shot her a playful look. “I have a feeling you could win just about any argument with me so let’s not go there.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”
“You’re tough. I like that.” A pause followed as he got the paint and rollers ready. Then, the two of them began to work together, painting one wall—the focal wall—a lovely shade of teal.
When they finished he stepped back and gave it a pensive look. “I hate to say it, but…”
“But?”
“You were right. The teal isn’t as offensive as I thought it would be.”
“Offensive?”
“Girly.”
“Girly?” She put her hands on her hips. “You think I’m trying to turn the whole place into a girly rink?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure.” He gave a little shrug. “But the point is, you were right. It’s a good color. And the idea of painting just one wall? Great.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” She gave a regal bow and somehow managed to sling her ponytail around into the wet paint.
“Um, you have a little teal right…” he pointed to her hair. “There.”
“Ugh, really?”
Kevin grabbed a paper towel and took a few steps in her direction, then wiped the paint from her hair. Not that J.J. minded. She had to admit, being close to this guy was getting easier every day.
~
Kevin couldn’t help but smile as he attempted to wipe the paint from J.J.’s hair. As much as he hated to admit it, this figure skater was drawing him in, winning him over to her teal-ish ways.
“Did you get it all?” she asked, her gorgeous blue eyes locked into his. “I don’t want to show up at work tomorrow with paint in my hair.”
“It’s water-based. As long as you shower, you’ll be okay.”
“Shower?” She laughed. “Now there’s a novel idea. Maybe you should share it with some of those boys you coach.”
He stepped back and pointed to his clothing, covered in paint splotches. “If they could only see me now. What a fine example, right?”
Love's Sporting Chance: Volume 1: 6 Romantic sporting novellas Page 3
