Icebreaker

by Deirdre Martin

  Driving down a rural road to Ray’s, Sinead realized she really should visit her weekend house more. There was something about traveling under the moody blue sky and the way the wheat fields gave way to the mountain range in the distance that calmed her.

  Ray’s house was on a small dirt road off the highway. Must be as social as Adam, Sinead mused. She turned right onto the long, pitted, gravel drive, at the end of which was a small white ranch house. A blue van with a Go Claresholm Hockey! bumper sticker sat parked in front of the attached garage.

  Sinead got out of the car, annoyed that the wind whipping across the fields sent her hair flying in ten different directions. The last thing she needed was to look unkempt and unprofessional. Luckily, she carried a ponytail holder with her at all times. She scraped her hair back and proceeded to the door.

  The temporary calm she felt on her drive over was slowly transforming itself into unease. If it weren’t for Susie, she’d never have known Ray existed. Why was that?

  Sinead rang the bell, straightening her shoulders. A handsome, black-haired, blue-eyed man in an electric wheelchair appeared in the doorway.

  “Ah, Sinead O’Brien, attorney-at-law,” he said with a welcoming smile. “I’m Ray.”

  Sinead smiled politely, hoping it covered her anxiety. “I’m Sinead.”

  Ray pressed a button on the arm of his wheelchair so he could back up to let her in. Once inside, Sinead extended her hand to shake his and then realized, when he didn’t raise his arm, that he was quadriplegic and couldn’t shake hands. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she spluttered, mortified by her faux pas. Her face burned with embarrassment.

  “No worries,” Ray assured her smoothly. “Come on in.”

  The door closed behind them. It appeared to be controlled by some infrared device that detected when Ray was near and when he moved away.

  “Have a seat,” Ray offered, tilting his head in the direction of the couch.

  Still feeling like an insensitive twit, Sinead sat down. She wanted to apologize again but decided to just let it go. He was probably used to dealing with people’s thoughtlessness.

  Sinead sat as Ray pressed another button on the arm of his wheelchair, propelling him closer to her. “I was surprised to hear from you.”

  “Maybe that’s because I didn’t even know you existed until about an hour ago. Adam never said anything to me about having a best friend.”

  “Not surprised. Adam’s not big on people digging into his personal life.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. But I didn’t know he was so generous. And loyal.”

  Sinead took a deep breath. “Ray, I really appreciate you letting me come out to see you, especially since you didn’t expect it. But as I said on the phone, getting your insights into Adam’s character could help the case immensely. The more complete a picture I can paint of him, the harder a time the prosecutor is going to have depicting him as some brainless, heartless hockey goon who doesn’t care who he hurts.”

  Ray looked worried. “You really think the case will go to court?”

  Sinead sighed. “I don’t know. I hope not. In my opinion, it’s an obvious ploy for reelection by the Philadelphia DA who’s brought the charges. It’s pure politicking.”

  Ray shook his head. “I hate that Adam’s got this hanging over his head with all the stress he’s already under.”

  “What stress?”

  “Being the new captain of the Blades. They brought him in with the specific intent of helping whip the team into shape so they can take another run at the Cup. That’s a helluva lot of pressure.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Not surprised. It’s not like he talks about it. Just keeps his head down and does his job, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “Look, let’s get you some water, and we’ll continue talking.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Ray motored into the kitchen, where Sinead heard him talking to another man. A roommate? A few seconds later, he reappeared with a large man with a shaved head carrying a glass of water. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Jasper, Ray’s personal assistant.”

  Sinead rose to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.” He handed her the glass of water.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He looked at Ray. “We all set?”

  “Yep.”

  Jasper turned back to Sinead. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Nice meeting you, too,” said Sinead. She took a sip of water, watching Jasper disappear toward the back of the house. Does he live here? She wanted to ask but didn’t. Too nosy.

  “All right, Miss O’Brien. Fire away.”

  “When did you and Adam meet?” Sinead was genuinely interested.

  “Playing on the Mites team,” Ray said, looking sentimental. “We were seven. Even then Adam was a killer player.”

  Sinead winced. “Maybe not the best choice of words.”

  “Maybe not,” Ray agreed ruefully. “But you know what I mean.”

  “Tell me what Adam was like growing up.”

  “Like I said, he was always a tough little bastard on the ice. We’d play one-on-one sometimes, and he always kicked my ass, which kinda pissed me off.”

  “Were other players afraid of him?”

  “He made the opposition nervous, yeah. I mean he always had a reputation as a hard hitter. But he was always respected. And he was a generous player. Lots of times the coaches would want to play him constantly, but it made Adam uncomfortable. He wanted to make sure the guys on the second and third line got their ice time.”

  “Was he egotistical?”

  “Not outwardly. But with me, yeah.” Ray smiled fondly. “There was always friendly competition between us—you know, guy stuff: ‘I’m gonna kick your ass, you’re going down, you suck compared to me.’ But he never trash-talked other players. Ever. It’s just not his style.”

  “Was he shy?”

  Rick looked thoughtful. “A little bit, when we were kids. By the time we were teenagers, he was pretty popular, even though he was kinda quiet. He had a lot of friends, mostly other hockey players.”

  Even though Sinead knew the basic chronology of Adam’s life—Claresholm, the minors in Edmonton, NHL draft pick at eighteen, playing for Tampa then New York—she still wanted Ray’s take on it all. Five minutes with him and he was already proving to be a treasure trove of useful information.

  “So after high school,” Sinead continued, glancing up at Ray, “Adam continued on to the minors?”

  “Actually, we both did. Adam went to Edmonton, and I went to Calgary.”

  Sinead was intrigued. “That must have been interesting, playing against each other.”

  “Hell yeah,” Ray said with a grin. “We got into some good scrapes.”

  Sinead hesitated a moment, unsure if what she wanted to ask next was inappropriate. She decided she would; the worst that could happen would be Ray telling her to mind her own business. “May I ask you a somewhat personal question?”

  “In the minors,” Ray supplied without hesitation. “I was paralyzed while playing in the minors.”

  Sinead looked down, shamefaced. “I’m sorry. I hope I wasn’t staring at you or—”

  “Don’t apologize,” Ray admonished gently. “It’s natural to be curious.”

  Sinead looked up. “What happened?”

  “Adam put a fearsome hit on me, and I went headfirst into the boards. Suffered a major fracture of the fifth vertebra in my neck. Paralyzed me from the chest down.”

  Sinead felt as though someone had just punched all the air out of her torso. Ray had rattled off the facts as effortlessly as someone reciting the alphabet or reading from a script. She was at a total loss for what to say. Finally, she pulled herself together. “Adam did this to you?”

  “Yeah.” No bitterness, no rancor.

  “I . . .” Sinead paused. She was still reeling with shock. “How can you two still be best friends?”

>   “Because it’s the nature of the game,” Ray said simply. “It’s not like he did it on purpose. He was just doing his job. It was totally random; it could have happened to anyone, and it could have been anyone else making the hit. It’s not something players like to think about, but injuries happen. In this case, the players in question just happened to be Adam and me.”

  “Weren’t you angry?”

  “Shit, yeah. But not at Adam. I was just angry that it happened to me. Adam took it worse than I did.”

  Sinead still couldn’t think straight. “He . . .”

  “Took it hard. Still takes it hard. It changed him.”

  “How?”

  “Made him withdraw.”

  “Not on the ice!”

  “No, not on the ice, which is a good thing. He wanted to, but I managed to talk him out of it. Told him I’d be pissed livid if he did. Like I said, he was just doing his job.”

  “But he shattered your dreams.”

  “Not on purpose,” Ray replied, unruffled.

  “Wasn’t it hard for you to see him go off and become this big NHL star?”

  “Yeah, at first. It was what we’d both been working toward our whole lives, and I was envious he was getting to do it. He almost didn’t.”

  “What?”

  “He was so distraught after it happened he talked about quitting hockey altogether. Said he couldn’t stand the unfairness of him getting to play when I couldn’t. I told him not to be an idiot; it would be a total waste if both of us couldn’t do what we both love best. He had an obligation to get his ass out there and play for both of us.”

  Sinead blinked back tears. “And he did?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Truthfully? I don’t know what to think right now. This is a huge part of Adam’s history, and he’s said nothing to me about it at all. It’s like he didn’t want me to know about you.” Sinead was puzzled. “And no one here in Claresholm has ever said anything to anyone?”

  “Adam is a hero here,” Ray said proudly. “Everyone here wants to protect his privacy—and mine.”

  “Would you mind telling me more about how the accident affected him?”

  “Well, like I said, he wanted to change his style of play, but I talked him out of that. The one thing I could not talk the stubborn bastard out of was helping me out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Adam paid for this house to be built. He pays Jasper’s salary, and he pays for the van. We have socialized medicine up here; it’s not perfect but it’s okay. He also pays for me to see private doctors if I need to.” Ray looked pained. “At first I was like, ‘Fuck off, man, I don’t need your pity.’ It really pissed me off. But eventually I saw that he needed to do it: not for me, but for himself. The guilt of it was overshadowing everything, even our friendship. So I let him do it.”

  “Does he . . . are you his only friend?”

  “I’m not sure. I know I’m his only friend who is—was—a hockey player. After what happened, he pulled back from making close friends with any other players. He said he wouldn’t be able to take it emotionally if he hurt someone he cared about on the ice. He’s very guarded about who he lets in, both on and off the ice.”

  “That’s abundantly clear, believe me.”

  “He’s a great guy,” Ray continued. “Always has been. A great hockey player, too. True to the way the game should be played. No wonder the NHL commissioner is on his ass.”

  Sinead leaned forward. “What?” Great. More information Adam had neglected to mention. She was going to read him the riot act when she got back to New York.

  Ray frowned. “Every couple of years, the NHL brass gets a bug up their asses about trying to change their image by making the sport ‘less violent.’ The commissioner asked Adam to tone down his game.”

  “How did Adam react?”

  A wide smile split Ray’s face. “He told him to go fuck himself, in so many words. His GM and coach are behind him one hundred percent.”

  Sinead smiled politely as she imagined herself trying not to yell at Adam in her office. “Well, that’s good.” She took a big gulp of water. “That’s all I can think of right now.”

  “You know, I actually enjoyed talking to you,” said Ray, sounding surprised.

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Well, first there’s the fact that Adam is probably going to blow a gasket when I tell him we talked.”

  “Blow a gasket at me? Or you?”

  “Both, probably. And I was worried that I’d feel on edge. Adam told me you were kind of uptight.”

  Sinead’s jaw set. “Those were his actual words?”

  Ray looked panicked. “Uh . . .”

  “Tell me. I promise I won’t bust you.”

  Ray still hesitated. “He said you were kinda snooty. That you go digging around for facts about him, but you don’t want to tell him about yourself.”

  “Why does he need to know about me? I’m his attorney, not his friend.”

  “True. I hope this doesn’t offend you, but you’re as good-looking as he said you were.”

  “Surprised, not offended.” Sinead covered her momentary thrill as she concentrated on finishing her water and stood. “Thanks so much, Ray.”

  “When you heading back to New York?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “I coach the peewee team here in town. You should come watch the game tonight. My boys are on fire.”

  “Maybe I will,” Sinead said. She almost committed her earlier faux pas of extending her hand to shake his, but she remembered in time and did not embarrass herself.

  Ray wheeled over to the front door with her. “Drive safe now,” he said as the door opened for her.

  “Thanks again, Ray,” Sinead said gratefully. “This has really been an immense help.”

  “No problem. Call me if Adam gives you a hard time. I’ll set him straight.”

  Sinead laughed. “I’d pay to see that.”

  “Oh, it’d be ugly, believe me. Bye now.”

  “Bye, Ray.”

  The wind had died down to just a breeze. Sinead loved how fresh the air smelled, how pure the sun looked in the distant sky. Maybe she’d drive around for a while before going back to the hotel and reorganizing her materials.

  Sinead wasn’t a big believer in fate, but right now, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been fate she found out about Ray. Of course, Adam wouldn’t see it that way, the stubborn, uncooperative, maddening, caring, compassionate, handsome pain in the ass.

  Ray thought he’d be the one to set Adam straight if need be? Wrong: that was going to be Sinead’s first order of business Monday morning. And if her client didn’t like it, that was just too damn bad.

  9

  “Thank you for taking time from your busy schedule to meet with me.”

  Sinead tried not to sound too sarcastic as she motioned for Adam to sit. His expression matched his voice on the phone last night when she’d called to set up a meeting: wary and annoyed. Sinead knew Adam was hoping that when he said the only time he could meet was seven a.m., she’d back off. Clearly he’d yet to grasp how seriously she took her job. If he’d said two a.m., she’d have been here. The sooner he figured out she was the one calling the shots, and that he couldn’t keep her at arm’s length any longer, the better.

  Sinead had carefully applied her makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes before leaving her apartment. She’d spent the night tossing and turning, worrying about slamming against a wall of resistance and resentfulness when she met with Adam. She also realized, as she watched the hours tick by, that Oliver had been right all along: she wanted Adam to like her. This new, somewhat unnerving realization at three a.m. ruined any chance of sleep. Sometimes Oliver took a nap in the middle of the day after a sleepless night. Sinead decided that if she was still drooping after lunch, she might try it to see if it worked. In the meantime, she’d rely on her old faithful friend, caffeine.

  Adam sat down.
“How did your fact-finding mission go?” he asked. The displeasure in his voice was unnerving. Do your job. Focus on the job.

  “Things went well.”

  Adam didn’t respond.

  “I didn’t realize Claresholm was so small,” Sinead continued conversationally.

  “Mmm.”

  No chatting today, Sinead thought. Not encouraging. She sat down, crossing her legs. “We need to talk about my visit.”

  Adam waved a hand disdainfully. “Talk away.”

  “Let’s start with Rick.”

  “Who you could have easily talked to over the phone.”

  “But then I’d never have learned you were helping pay his bills or that you were the one who footed the bill for the town’s new ice rink.”

  Adam scowled. “Rick told you that?”

  “No, his wife did.”

  “Shit.”

  “This info could be important to making your case, Adam.”

  “It’s irrelevant.”

  “No, it’s very relevant. Why didn’t you tell me about the rink, at least? Everyone in Claresholm knows you’re the one who paid for it. And while we’re at it, why did you pay for it anonymously?”

  “I did it because I wanted the focus on the rink, not on me as some big philanthropist. End of story.”

  “It shows you have a big heart. That you care about community.” Adam gave her a dirty look, but Sinead continued, undeterred. “I don’t care how much you hate it. I’m using the info.”

  Adam looked angry. “Even if I don’t want you to.”

  “Even if you don’t want me to,” replied Sinead, holding her ground. “I’m building this case to win, and if you don’t want to help me, fine. Why you’re cutting off your nose to spite your face is beyond me. You are, without a doubt, the most uncooperative client I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. And I don’t appreciate it.”

  Adam actually looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Prove it.”

  Adam lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Someone’s getting tough.”

  “I’ve always been tough. You just haven’t wanted to deal with it.”

  Adam looked impressed. “I admire your tenacity. And your self-confidence.”