Could possibly burn her now, what with her publicly backing Brandon Thorpe despite his suspicious relationship with her grandfather.
Instead of reading that article yet again, Seraphina turned to look the new picture sitting on the desk, the one she had placed there herself. It was one of the few changes she had made to the office once the police were through with it, but it was the same frame that had held the picture of her and her sister, before it was damaged in the struggle that took place before –
“How did you do this?” she whispered, her eyes studying the picture of her grandfather. It was a recent one taken only a couple of weeks before all these changes were forced to take place. He was smiling, wearing his sailor’s cap that seemed glued to the top of his head, and his blue eyes were twinkling mischievously as they always did. It reminded her of millions of memories, and even though her pain was raw and it brought tears to her eyes, it also gave her strength. As though he was here with her now, watching over her, guiding her. “Why did you choose me? I don’t know if I can really do this.”
The phrases were practically common now, a religious chant that came to her lips in time of stress. But instead of soothing her, it just added to the pile of stress already on her shoulders. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be the carefree twenty-three year old she had been in the past, but there was no way in hell she’d sell the team. Not to give Alan and Ryan a bout of money they did absolutely nothing for.
He obviously chose her for a reason. It was just in times like these ones she couldn’t help but wonder why.
Before she could shake her mind of these thoughts, the door knocked and without waiting for her answer, the person on the other side walked in. Seraphina felt herself straighten and her heart stopped.
Speak of the devil…
Alan was there, in front of her. How he got in the building and managed to avoid the press, Seraphina had no idea. But what she didn’t know even more was why he was here. Alan was tan thanks to his days surfing when he was younger, and while he was still handsome for being in his mid-fifties, his skin was wrinkled more so than it might have been. His chestnut brown hair maybe had three or four grey hairs in it, and his hazel eyes were covered by a pair of black sunglasses. He was wearing his typical Hawaiian shirt – this one brick red – and beige cargo shorts, and he smelled like strong cologne and cigarette smoke. From the way he carried his lithe, five foot eight frame, he either didn’t know the police suspected him for Papa’s murder or that such a claim didn’t get to him.
“Hello,” she said, drawing out the word slowly. She gestured at a seat and he took it. “Can I help you with anything?”
He didn’t say anything as he took off his shades and slipped them in his front pocket. When his hazel eyes locked with hers, Seraphina felt a shiver slide down her back. “Just wanted to check up on you,” he said. “See how everything’s doing. What a mob house out there, huh? Thank God I decided to pull around back. So.” He clapped his hands together before letting his wrists dangle off the armrests. “How are you handling everything? I’ve been reading the paper, watching the news… It’s hard, huh?”
Seraphina didn’t respond right away. He was here to see how things were going? That wasn’t Alan. Alan didn’t care about things that didn’t pertain to Alan. He didn’t drop by unless he wanted something.
“It’s more difficult than I imagined it would be,” Seraphina conceded, nodding her head once. Though her heart pumped blood through her body at an increased rate, alerting her subconscious that she was afraid of the situation she was currently, she forced herself to maintain eye contact with him. “But Papa chose me to run the team for a reason, and if he believed in me then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t believe in myself.” She felt her patience with him at that moment dissipate. “What do you want, Alan? I have a game that’s going to start in twenty minutes.”
“Let’s cut the shit, Sera,” Alan said, his voice abrupt and firm. It was complete unlike his charm voice that normally manipulated those that didn’t know who he really was. “After everything that happened yesterday, we both know that you’re in way over your head. I came here to ask you to sell the team. I talked to Dad’s financial guy, Simon Spade, and he said that if we sell now, we would make more than if we waited until the season started. People are crucifying you, worried that you might be the worst thing that ever happened to the team.”
“Of course I am!” Seraphina exclaimed. She hadn’t meant to burst out with it, but she couldn’t help it. Her eyes filled up with tears and she knew her face was red with shame and anger, but besides that, she refused to let Alan see that she was just as worried if not more than him, or anyone else. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “The only other owner of this team was Papa. Nobody can compare to him. But I’m going to try. I’m not going to give up. And by the way, before you start criticizing me about being written up in the paper, you should probably know that the police have listed you as their number one suspect.”
“You know I would never hurt Papa,” Alan said, his voice rising, defensive. “You know that. All I’m trying to show you is that you’re twenty-three. You shouldn’t be stressed out over a goddamn hockey team. If you just sold it, you could retire a multi-millionaire. You’d never have to work again. Katella would never have to work again. Do you realize how long and hard people work in order to retire? And you could do it now. No one can take your effort away. You gave it your best. But you have no idea how to do this, and if you just sell everything, you’ll be set.”
“Unlike you, Alan, I want to do something with my life,” Seraphina snapped. She knew she didn’t sound collected and professional, but it was hard when her uncle was in front of her, attacking her. “Don’t tell me how I would never have to work again when, really, you never want to work again. Don’t bullshit me. That might have worked when I was younger but it won’t work on me now. I know this may be hard for you to grasp, but I want to change the world. I want to do something to change the world. And maybe, maybe this won’t change the world. In all likelihood, it won’t. But it’s already changed my world. It’s already made a difference in my life. So no. I’m not going to sell the team. Please stop telling and asking me to because it’s not going to happen.” With that, she stood, grabbing the hemline of her shirt and pulling it down. She needed something to do with her shaking hands. “Don’t come here again. I know we’re supposed to be family but I don’t want to see you again. If you do come here, I’ll have security refuse you at the door. So go away and be happy with your hundred thousand dollars. You should be lucky you even got that.”
Alan stood, looking down at her, even though he was only three inches taller than she was. “Let me be real clear,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t think you are capable of running this team.”
Seraphina sighed through her nose, her entire body completely tense. If he didn’t leave now, at that moment, she would call security. She couldn’t deal with him right now. Not when the game was about to start. Not when it still hadn’t sunk in that Alan might have killed her grandfather.
“Let me be clear,” she said in a cold voice that surprised even her. “Papa must have thought I was more capable than you are because he left me the team and not you.”
She knew the instant the words left her mouth that it probably wasn’t the best idea for her to have said it. Subconsciously, she recognized the increase in her uncle’s anger due to the tightness of his voice, the fire behind his eyes, his tense shoulders, his fingers curled into fists, but she didn’t think anything would ever happen. And yeah, what she said was low and petty, but Alan’s temper never flared when he interacted with her. So yes, to answer her own question, Seraphina was naïve, naïve to think she would never encounter an extremely pissed off Alan. Because before she could even raise her hand to point at the door, Alan reached out and wiped everything save for the computer off the desk.
Seraphina didn’t think it was possible, but her heart beat only increased. Okay
, so maybe the sources in the newspaper article were right. Alan had a violent temper and from the way he was looking at Seraphina right now, she didn’t think he needed a couple of beers to slap her.
She couldn’t believe it. She was actually scared of Alan. Her uncle. Her flesh and blood. A man she had depended on when she was younger, before he burned her. Even though he was a top suspect in Papa’s murder, she wasn’t afraid of him. He was Alan, the guy who took her to Van Helsing and taught her about football and promised her long ago that he would one day take her fishing. Which never happened. Never did she ever think that he would actually do physical harm to her. He was Uncle Alan!
Before anything could be exchanged, whether it was a slap, a yell, or a scream, the door opened up and Brandon Thorpe walked in, decked out in nearly his entire uniform minus the protective pads and the mask goaltenders were required to wear. He seemed to recognize that something was going on, his pale green eyes looking at Seraphina and then Alan, and then back at Seraphina again.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, and from the way Brandon looked at her, Seraphina assumed he was addressing solely her despite Alan being in the room as well. Brandon’s voice was short, firm, and maybe a little bit protective, though maybe Seraphina’s mind was filled with too much adrenaline that she could be hearing things.
“No.” She clenched her jaw, wishing her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it did. She swallowed and then forced herself to continue. “My uncle was just leaving.”
Her eyes returned to Alan’s, and without saying a word, she told him that now would be the best time to get out and never come back. It looked as though he wanted to argue with her, he wanted to stay and get the last word in, but he didn’t. Which actually surprised Seraphina nearly as much as his sudden burst of anger because the one thing that might have mattered more to Alan than greed was his pride. And Seraphina had just insulted it. He said nothing else as he pushed past Brandon Thorpe, walked out, and slammed the door behind him.
Seraphina plopped back in her seat, completely exhausted. She wished Thorpe didn’t have to see witness her family problems, but it couldn’t be helped. In a way, she was almost glad he was there because who knew what would have happened if Thorpe hadn’t shown up. Especially if he had killed Papa.
She didn’t want to think about that.
She needed to calm down.
Dropping to her knees, Seraphina willed her heart to slow down, willed her mind to stop thinking. She leaned forward and began to collect the papers and folders her uncle had pushed off the desk. At least it gave her something to do, something to concentrate on.
“Is everything okay?”
Thorpe’s voice caused her to jump. She had completely forgotten that he was even here. But there he was, bending down, helping her. He murmured an apology but his eyes were intense. To Seraphina, it felt like he wanted her to answer his question.
Was he really that concerned?
“Uh, yeah.” She shook her head, her eyes on the floor. She didn’t want to talk about any of her problems, especially not to Brandon Thorpe. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Oh.” He seemed taken aback at her abrupt change of subject. “I wanted to thank you, actually. For playing me in the third period.” He cleared his voice, suddenly sounding uncomfortable. “For having faith in me.”
Well. She wasn’t expecting that. Not in the least from Brandon Thorpe. He seemed so standoffish and independent to the point that it was hard for Seraphina to imagine him thanking someone, especially for having faith in him. A warm feeling spread through her body, and that was when Seraphina felt her heart beat back at a normal rate.
“Well, it’s like you said,” she said, brushing off that comforted feeling. “You’re good. And I really do believe we need to stand together, especially if people are going to take us seriously as a team.” She stood, along with Brandon, and both placed the papers and folders on the desk. Her work would have to wait; the game was about to start. “You should probably get going. They’re about to announce the team.”
“I’m sorry for everything you’re going through,” he said. Again, his voice was abrupt, but it sounded like he meant it.
And for whatever reason, that meant a lot to her.
She forced a smile, still unsettled by everything that had happened. “Good luck tonight,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’ll be out there soon.”
This is worth it, she thought to herself as Brandon closed the door gently behind him. It has to be.
14. “The protestors came back,” Emma stated. Her voice was flat but it was clear that she was surprised.
Her father smirked as he followed his daughter through one of the many entrances to Sea Side Ice Palace. After their tickets were scanned and approved, they headed down the stairs, to their usual seats.
“Yeah, but Brandon Thorpe playing has helped business rather than hurt it,” he pointed once they both sat down. “Look how crowded this place is, and the actual season hasn’t even started yet.”
Emma nodded but she didn’t say anything. It still bothered her that these people could actually protest Brandon Thorpe playing for the Gulls, especially since Seraphina Hanson showed her belief in the goalie by playing him the third period and even more so because he wasn’t even the main suspect. It was Alan Brown, the uncle. Emma almost felt like these people would protest anything, and instead of getting their point across, they annoyed the crap out of people with the incessant screaming.
“So how was school?” Jeremy asked, nudging Emma’s shoulder with his. “Any spontaneous dance-offs?”
Emma had heard this question on a pretty consistent basis, but it made her laugh every time. “Come on, Dad,” she said, shaking her head. “I know we’re supposed to be green and everything, but could you not recycle your material? But no, no spontaneous dance-offs. Not today, anyways. If something comes up, I’ll keep you posted.”
“That would be appreciated,” he teased.
“But seriously,” Emma continued. “It went fine. Nothing new. I met my team – you know, the small group of people I’m going to teach my piece to for the recital – and they seemed nice. The majority of them were freshmen so I don’t know how that’s going to go. Hopefully they’ll take it seriously. It’s a pretty difficult piece, but if they practice, it’ll be amazing.”
“I expect nothing less from you, hon.” He tilted his head to the side, looking at his daughter from the corner of his eyes.
“How’s work? Any new cases? Any new ladies?” Emma wiggled her eyebrows as suggestive as she possibly could, but the grip on her straight face wasn’t anywhere near complete.
“Yeah, okay,” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. “I’m still working on the Burke case. I really don’t want to have to go to trial because, honestly, it’s just a waste of time, but these two people have the mindset of kindergarteners and are incapable of compromising.” He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb. “I don’t like thinking about it, much less discussing it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma said. “Maybe if you actually used the box seats your firm has, you could take both of them to the Gulls game and they’d be so caught up in it, they would realize that maybe compromise is the best way to go. Huh?” She elbowed her father, her eyes teasing. “What about that?”
“Let’s not talk about work anymore. What about you? Any new boys you want to tell me about?” This time it was Jeremy who wiggled his eyebrows.
Emma felt herself straighten at the question. The real answer, of course, was no, there weren’t any new boys. But they her father had asked the question, it was almost as if he knew that she was interested in the possibility of –
No. She wouldn’t even think about it. Even in her thoughts, the idea that she and Kyle Underwood could date sounded ridiculous. Sure, she didn’t have that much of a problem admitting that she was attracted to him. And judging from the couple of signs she saw in the stadium, she wasn’t alone on tha
t point. But actually liking another guy required too much effort on her part. Maybe the correct word was curious. Or interested. Or intrigued. Just because she wanted to know more about the hockey player didn’t mean that she liked him.
“Please,” she said, forcing her to snort at such a preposterous question. “Listen, if I’m interested in a guy, you’ll know. Maybe. Possibly. If I decide to date a guy, you’ll know. But guys are the furthest thing in my mind right now.”
“Honey, you’re a young woman,” her father said. “As much as I want to believe that guys are nowhere near your thoughts, I know better.” He shrugged. “It was just a question. I thought it might have to do with your sudden interest in hockey.”
“Dad, I’ve come to practically every game with you since you got season tickets,” Emma pointed out.
“Yeah, but in that time, you’ve never asked me a single thing about how the sport works,” he replied. “You know you don’t have to get interested in hockey just because a guy is, right? You’re perfect, just the way you are.”
Her face flushed at her father’s comments. “Can you not? Listen, I know what you’re saying and I appreciate it even though it’s a little bit uncomfortable. But I promise I’m not getting into hockey just for a guy, okay Dad? Now can we drop it?”
He didn’t believe her entirely, she could tell that much by the way he was looking at her. But he nodded his head and looked straight ahead, at the ice. The refs had just emerged, and, as was traditional, people began to boo them.
“God, who would ever want to be a referee?” Jeremy murmured.
“Maybe they enjoy the game?” It was all Emma could suggest due to the fact that her eyes were glued to straight ahead of her, waiting for Kyle Underwood – and the rest of the Gulls – to come out from their team’s designated side and skate on the ice before the singing of the national anthem. As the announcer called the Gulls out, the majority of the fans cheered, but once Brandon Thorpe took to the ice, the boos got more prominent.
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