Glitz & Goals (Venom Next Gen #2)

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Grady

I stand with my arms crossed, watching the Venom players run drills across the ice. Ostensibly, I’m getting a sense of their endurance.

In practice, I’m cranky because I can’t stop thinking about my mermaid. Not a single person in the building saw her, as far as I know, and I don’t want to get a reputation by wandering around asking if other people saw a mythical being stalking the halls of the arena. But someone has to know who she is. On the other hand, she didn’t give me her name. I should respect that, right?

I’m still glaring when Viktor Abbott skates over to me and digs the toe of his skate into the ice, coming to an abrupt halt. “Is there anything I can do to convince you to blow the whistle? I’ve never seen Beck so red.”

“I’ll blow the whistle when Beck pukes,” I tell Viktor, perhaps more peevishly than I would under ordinary circumstances.

Viktor bobs his head. “Right, and that’s fair. But I warned him not to eat before practice. Since that may never happen, is there anything else I can do?”

Keep skating, I almost say, but the words that come out of my mouth instead are, “Get me a date with a mermaid, and I’ll consider it.”

Unlike the maintenance guy I ran into yesterday, Viktor doesn’t seem concerned about my sanity. If anything, he looks delighted by my word choice. “A mermaid, you say. Did you have a specific mermaid in mind?”

I squint at him. “Do you? ”

“Me? No, no, just curious.” He leans on the railing, all cocky confidence, even though the rest of the team is still sweating their balls off running drills. “What kind of mermaid are you in the market for?”

“Blue hair, seashell tiara, one big… fin…” I trail off. Why am I talking with Viktor Abbott about this, of all people? “You know what, forget it.” I reach for my whistle and put the kids out of their misery by signaling an end to this round of drills. Viktor was right about Camden Beck. His face is as red as a hothouse tomato. That kid will have to work on fitness before the season starts, or he’ll be in big trouble.

“Do you want me to ask around? See if anyone has a lead on a mermaid?” Viktor asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“I want you back on the ice,” I gripe.

“But—”

“ Now. ” I give him my best coach face, and he lifts both hands and chuckles as he backs off. Dammit, this kid is cocky. I don’t want to give him ideas, and I certainly don’t want a troublemaker like him sticking his nose in my love life. Besides, he’s his father’s son, and the Abbott family has never helped improve my love life. Quite the opposite, in fact.

* * *

I’m on my way back to my office post-shower when it occurs to me that I still need to fill out those forms for Renee. My hand is on the door when it clicks for me: I ran into my mystery woman here, right near Renee’s door. What are the odds that Renee knows who she is? Surely, there’s a way I can gather some intel without making my interest too obvious.

Renee calls me in, and I step inside. “Oh, good, Grady.” She smiles and reaches for a folder. “Just the man I was hoping to see. I’d love to get these forms to you digitally, but Dante has this thing about wet signatures.”

“Hey, Renee.” I settle in the chair across the desk from her and accept the papers she hands me. “I’ll get these filled out and have them back to you before I leave.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Okay…” The word lingers as if she wants to ask me why I’d bother sitting if I’m just going to take these forms and run.

“While I have you, do you mind if I run something by you?”

“Sure.” Renee steeples her fingers and gives me her full attention. I can’t quite get a read on her. She seems nice, but distant, although I guess a person’s got to have some good boundaries if they work for the likes of Dante Giovanetti. “What can I do for you?”

“I was thinking, with the new Venom mascot…” I drum my fingers on the desk, concocting my suggestion in real time. “A lot of our gear is more masculine. Maybe we could come up with a more feminine design. Sparkly, you know? I’m not a designer myself, but maybe you know someone who’s got a creative mind when it comes to clothing design.”

Renee lets out a bark of what sounds like genuine laughter. “That seems like it’s a little out of your lane, Coach.”

“Like I said, it’s just an idea…”

“Let me guess… you bailed out the mermaid with the wardrobe malfunction?” Renee shakes her head and leans back in her chair. “I wondered what happened to her.”

I throw caution to the winds. “Who is she, exactly?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Not even a name?” I know I sound desperate. I can’t help myself.

“I’m not in the business of sharing people’s personal info, Grady Metcalfe. I am not doxxing a mermaid. ”

That’s fair. The hope I felt earlier fades a bit. “If she asks about me…” I begin.

Renee sighs. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and tell you… that’s never going to happen.”

Okay, ouch. We had a moment yesterday, I’m sure of it. She could ask. Maybe she won’t , but she could. “Why not?”

A wrinkle has formed between Renee’s brows. She looks down at her hands. “There are a few factors,” she says slowly. “But here’s what I’ll tell you. For fun, she leaves shattered hearts all over the Strip. Completely impossible to tie that one down. Perhaps you noticed how effortlessly beautiful she is. How smart. How confident. Men fall at her feet. She never falls at theirs. Does that clear things up?”

My shoulders droop. “Got it.” I shouldn’t be surprised that the mermaid has a reputation for breaking hearts. After all, she flirted with me even though we never got as far as introductions. And when she left, she didn’t tell me that there was no merman in her life… she said that mermen didn’t exist. I thought that was a cute line, but maybe she was telling me that she’s not looking for a match.

And yet, I still want to find her, even if it’s just to hear the truth from her own lips. That she’s not interested. That she didn’t feel that spark.

Sonofabitch, why am I always drawn to the untouchable women? Larisse might as well have been an otherworldly creature for all she cared about my feelings. Why can’t I ever be attracted to some sweet six or seven who will make me a sandwich when I’m hungry and massage my shoulders at the end of a long day? I, in turn, would treat her like my queen. But nope.

I always want the impossible woman.

I don’t want to sit and mope in front of Renee, so I force a smile and reach for the folder. “Like I said, I’ll get these back to you. Thanks again.”

I can feel the weight of pity in Renee’s gaze as I retreat from the office. I make an effort to keep my steps even since my knee is bugging me after all that time on the ice this morning. I should wear my compression brace tomorrow. It’s not like anyone will think twice about it.

I fill out the forms in a daze, but all the while, I’m thinking about the woman whose name I still don’t know. I need advice.

So, after some deliberation, I give into temptation and call my sisters.

Laura picks up on the second ring. Her face fills half of my phone screen as she crows, “How are you, baby brother?”

I sigh. “God, when are you going to stop calling me that?”

Laura scoffs. “When you stop being the baby, obviously.”

The resolution on her end of the video tells me that she’s graduated to one of those watches most people use now. When they stream to each other, they make people’s faces look like 3D models of the actual person. I’m still happy with my smartphone, so my contribution to the conversation keeps the image flat. Call me old-fashioned, but I find the new tech kind of creepy and rise-of-the-killer-robots, even though it’s been around for years.

Erin joins us a few seconds later. “Hello, baby brother!”

Laura cackles. “Told you!”

“Message received. I’ll always be the baby.” I shake my head at their antics. “And at the rate I’m going, I’ll always be single.”

Laura immediately goes on the defensive. “Was some woman mean to you?”

Erin pipes up. “Was it Larisse? Please tell me she didn’t contact you again.”

“No, it’s not Larisse,” I say, before either of them can get too worked up. During my marriage, neither of my sisters was particularly close to my ex, but they were cordial enough. After the divorce, my sisters ended up solidly in my corner. We’d never talked about it before, but Laura confided in me that she, too, had trouble conceiving, and she was particularly indignant that Larisse would end our marriage over it.

Last I heard, Larisse hung up her pointe shoes and opened a dance studio. She married some big-shot CEO, popped out a couple of kids, and settled into her perfect little life with a picket fence and a retirement plan that probably has more zeroes than I care to think about. Looks like she made the smart choice walking away when she did.

Laura seems mollified. “Good, good. So, what do you need from us?”

“Advice, obviously,” Erin interjects. “But we’re gonna need to know where to start.”

“Okay.” I clear my throat. “So, I met someone.”

Both of my sisters gasp. “ Gimme the deets! ” Laura shrieks.

“Okay, uh. Details. That’s gonna be a problem.” I scratch the back of my neck. “See, I didn’t get her number. Or her name. Or any clear indication that she’s interested in dating.”

“Damn.” Erin whistles. “You struck out hard. That’s so unlike you.”

“What do you know?” Laura asks, looking skeptical as hell.

I exhale before admitting, “She was a mermaid.”

Laura nods. “Of course she was.”

“You’ve been in Vegas for about two minutes, and you’ve already fallen for a magical girl,” Erin muses. “Impressive.”

“Are you going to help me or just make fun of me?” I demand.

Laura tips her head from one side to the other. “Why pick one? I’m more than a label. Besides, this is prime teasing content. Even better than when we used to paint your toenails pink back in grade school.”

“Maybe you should do a catch and release,” Erin suggests. “There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

Laura snickers. “I never took baby Grady for being the kind of guy who’d be obsessed with chasing tail.”

“She sounds like a cold fish if she didn’t even give you her name,” Erin adds.

“Did you get on Dante Giovanetti’s bad side, Grady? Because this is the first time you’ve mentioned wanting to sleep with the fishes…”

My sisters are in hysterics. I try to keep a straight face, which of course only makes them laugh harder. There are actual tears in Laura’s eyes by the time she tries to get herself back under control.

“Sorry, sorry,” she pants, still fighting down giggles. “Okay, so you lost your mermaid. The next question is, where do mermaids go when they’re not at home?”

I wait for her to make another joke, but apparently, this is a serious question. And it’s a good one, now that I think about it. She might have been a… ugh, a fish out of water at the arena, but it’s not like she tripped and fell into a high-quality mermaid tail. The costume must have been part of something. Like a show. There are a lot of shows in Vegas, but surely it should be possible to narrow down the number of performances that include blue-haired mermaids.

“I don’t know.” I sit up straighter. “But I bet I can find out.”

“Good luck, kid!” Erin pumps her free arm, the one not controlling her camera, like a cheerleader. “We believe in you!”

“Tell us how it goes!” Laura adds.

We say our goodbyes and hang up. On my way out of the office, I stop just long enough to drop off the papers with Renee, then take the elevator to the ground floor. Tonight, I’ll try to figure out where mermaids congregate. Which shouldn’t be too hard…

Except that I don’t even make it to my car before I’m stopped in my tracks. The marquee beside the stadium switches from an advertisement for the game, to an ad for a new show at the Mona Lisa hotel. Among the performers is an image of a woman in a familiar costume.

Right tail. Wrong girl. But at least I know where I’m going next.