Play On

by Heather C. Myers

  “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 began to form 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.

  To put it simply, Seraphina Hanson was stunning.

  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.

  “She’s gorgeous, huh?” Amanda whispered next to her. “Her sister looks just like her, but with darker blonde hair, green-gold eyes, a few freckles, and a couple inches more. Matt’s a hottie, but he definitely lucked out with Katella.”

  “She seems kind of nervous,” Madison observed, raising an eyebrow as she watched Seraphina smooth down invisible wrinkles on her slacks.

  “I’ve only met her once, but she seemed nice,” said Amanda. “More quiet than Katella is, but friendly. Approachable. I guess she’s more guarded, you know?”

  Before Madison could reply, 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, Madison noticed 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, Madison thought. 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. Madison smiled at how fast the speech had turned casual and wondered if it would remain that way for the duration of it. “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.”

  Madison could detect that words were Seraphina’s strong point at that moment. The entire speech shifted, and though it didn’t retain that casual air from seconds before, she knew without looking at the rest of the people gathered in front of the petite woman that they were as captivated by her as Madison was.

  “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 sugge
stions 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. Madison couldn’t be sure.

  “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.” Madison immediately recognized Kyle, 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 her something relating to Alec’s charming tendencies. Interestingly enough, some were almost admiring while others were bitter. 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.” Madison watched as his naturally red colored lips pulled into a frown. “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. Even some of her peers whispered around Madison, as if they were agreeing with Alec’s unspoken statement: “I don’t believe you can handle this.” She was interested in Seraphina’s answer.

  “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 presitigeous 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 taken seriously, play to the best of your abilities. I don’t care if I’m the owner of 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 the ice.”

  It would seem that blonde haired, big boobed Seraphina was also immune to Alec’s charm and good looks. Which meant that Madison’s respect for her just dramatically increased. She couldn’t stop a triumphant smirk from spreading across her face.

  Although… Madison hadn’t even met the guy. Was it wrong that she was automatically judging him solely based on the testimony of an array of girls that might or might not be personally biased against him? Maybe she should give him a chance to prove himself, just like Seraphina did with all these players and associates of the team. Because by the way everyone was looking at her now, it seemed as though they respected her more than when she first walked in the room. Sure, they still looked doubtful, but they seemed more open to the possibility that this sudden and drastic change could work.

  “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 Madison couldn’t quite make out from her current position. “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 Madison could focus on was the tremor in Seraphina’s 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, Madison could easily read the sadness that started to crawl back into her eyes.

  She 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. And 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 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? But 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 la
idback 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?

  But 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 at Alec, tried to decipher whether it was genuine or added in order only 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?

  “Anyways,” 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.