Play On

by Heather C. Myers

  Despite the fact that Simon Spade was announced as the killer, the press wasn’t very forgiving when it came to Brandon and his financial demands and lack of loyalty. His unfavorable reputation only worsened because of this controversy even though, in the end, he was innocent of any violence, and the media wouldn’t let people forget that. They were demanding Seraphina get rid of Brandon because of his negative image was not only affecting the team, but the entire national hockey league.

  “Of course I’m willing to resign you,” Seraphina told him. She hoped he knew that she was being honest with him, that she really did want him on the team. “You’re a phenomenal player, Brandon. You know that. And I don’t care what anyone thinks. We’re lucky to have you. But here’s the thing: I’m not going to give you the money you held out for. That’s not going to happen. I will pay you what my grandfather agreed to pay for last season, with the option to renegotiate once the season concludes.” She slid the documents over to him and offered him the pen. “Do you need to call your lawyer or your agent?”

  Brandon shook his head, his eyes firmly located on the text he was reading. “No,” he said. “I’ve read plenty of these before. I keep my lawyer and agent around to help me articulate what I want without sounding too demanding.”

  Seraphina bit her bottom lip to keep from retorting anything but she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She watched him as he read. Whenever she was around him, something he did or said always surprised her. This time, it was the fact that he was actually reading the contract, rather than skimming through it and signing it within a few minutes. When he flipped the page, she took the length of his fingers – long and slender, fingers that would no doubt play the piano beautifully – and then watched as his eyes went to the left, to the right, and back to the left again.

  He was mesmerizing and he probably didn’t even know it.

  The thought was accompanied by a nice pink tint to her face, and she quickly looked at the computer screen, flipping her head so her long hair covered the majority of her face. She couldn’t let Brandon see her blush, and even more than that, couldn’t let him see her watch him.

  When he signed it, he pushed the documents back to her. Both stood – Seraphina had a press conference to get to, which Brandon would accompany her to – and shook hands.

  “Thank you,” he said as Seraphina filed the contract away.

  She smiled but said nothing, and the two headed out the door.

  “Listen, I expect you to get more involved with the team,” Seraphina said as they made their way to the elevators. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy or anything – God forbid – but you need to start building a better rapport with your team.” She pressed the down button. “Also, I want to play Miller more which means I need you to start taking him under your wing. I have a feeling about him.”

  “And they call me demanding?” he asked.

  The two walked in the opened elevator and the ride down to the first floor was silent. Until the doors slid back open.

  Seraphina could already hear the press that had gathered outside, and something like nervousness squeezed her head. She breathed in deeply and let out a breath, before pushing the door and walking outside. The fact that Brandon was right behind her gave her a strange comfort.

  “Hello,” she said into the microphone, with what she hated to admit was a small voice. Everybody quieted upon hearing her voice, and journalists raised their mobile tape recorders, pictures began to flash, and cameramen made sure their technology was recording. “I think it’s about time I did one of these things so…” She shrugged, which gets a few chuckles.

  For the most part, everyone seemed intent on hearing what she had to say. Not laugh at the lame jokes she attempted to make.

  “It’s not shocking to learn my grandfather absolutely loves this game,” she began, forcing herself to look up at her audience despite how intimidating they made her feel. “Hockey, I mean. And more than the game, he loved his team. He loved the Gulls. Without him, this team wouldn’t be here. Newport Beach – a place known for sunshine and beaches – wouldn’t have a hockey team. Who would have thought?”

  She paused, scanned the crowd.

  “I’m not going to pretend I know what I’m doing. I’ve read what you’ve all written about me. I’ve heard what you said about me. Yes, I’m young and inexperienced, but I’m also willing to learn. Every day, I find out something out about hockey that I had no clue about, like that back in the day, players didn’t wear helmets – not even the goalies.” More laughter. “But I’m taking everything in. I plan to be around for a long while so I’m seriously committed to do the best I can for this team, whether the decision I make are publicly approved or not.”

  She looked up. With each passing word, her voice got stronger. She started believing what she was saying.

  “An excellent example of this was my decision to continue to play Gulls net minder, Brandon Thorpe, despite outrage and criticism. But I have to believe in my players. I have to have faith in them so they can have faith in themselves. So, to answer the question I’m sure you’re all dying to know: yes, Brandon Thorpe will play for the Gulls this season. Once I’m finished, he’ll be happy to talk to you about it himself.” She smiled at this, knowing that that anywhere wasn’t near the truth.

  “The season opener game against our cross-town rivals, the Los Angeles Centaurs, is next week. Not only that, but fans are encouraged to come pay their respects to Ken Brown that evening. That game will be dedicated to him and to his memory. We will have a guestbook where anyone can write memories, tidbits, even advice to Ken about his time as the Gulls’ owner and manager. I call on the fans’ continued dedication and support as well as the players’ resilience to weather anything that comes our way in order to make this season one for the books.”

  With that, she stepped down and smiled. A real smile.

  Seraphina could do this. She could run a hockey team.

  Now, she was actually starting to believe it.

  Acknowledgements

  My mom and brother, who put up with me watching hockey games, yelling at the television, bargaining, threatening, and an assortment of other intense vocalizations

  Tierney and Aislinn, my best friends. You make hockey even more fun than it already is. Our inside jokes, our would-you-rathers, our random fan fiction, everything is just too perfect. You make me quick, witty, and clever. Hockey wouldn’t be the same without you.

  Anaheim Ducks – you’re my team, for now until forever. No matter what.

  Frank, who tried to impress me with hockey information the day we met. It didn’t quite work out, but you certainly were cute while trying. I love your passion and enthusiasm for hockey, and I’m so lucky I found a kindred spirit to spend the rest of my life with. Te amo siempre.