4. Home Sweet Portland
Chapter Four
HOME SWEET PORTLAND
~~Camden~~
Portland, Oregon. Home sweet home, for now at least.
My plane from New York lands in Portland at 2:00 a.m. I take an Uber to my hotel a few blocks from the stadium. Bright and early the next morning, I’m at Icehawks headquarters located at their new practice facility. The Icehawks won their game last night, and they’re still in contention for a playoff spot. That’s more than I can say about my old team.
I take the elevator upstairs and walk into the reception area. I glance around and notice a tiny little blonde sitting behind a large desk. She glances up as I walk toward her, then quickly looks down. I frown as I catch what suspiciously looks like the remnants of a black eye.
“Hi, I’m, uh, the new guy, Camden Hale. I have a meeting with Inez Lewis.”
She doesn’t glance up but points toward the end of the hall. “Last door on the left.” She speaks so timidly I barely catch the words.
“Thanks.”
I’m puzzled that the organization has such a shy person as the first contact any visitor would have. Shrugging, I journey down the hall. Not my circus, not my monkeys. My job is on the ice, not in the office.
The last door on the left is open. I knock on it. Ms. Lewis has her head bent down as she’s reading something on her desk. She glances upward, and I’m momentarily astonished. This woman is stunning, not at all what I pictured. Her shrewd, hard gaze assesses me.
I expected her to be an older gray-haired woman with her hair in a severe bun. I’m right on the bun, but that’s it. She’s intimidating to say the least as she sizes me up. Her subtle makeup accentuates her perfect face. Her expression is completely businesslike, even chilly, and only serves to make her beauty more striking. I can tell she tries to downplay her appearance, but she’s so damn spectacular, her natural beauty is impossible to hide. A tendril of desire curls inside me, and I immediately squelch it. Not only is my visceral reaction inappropriate, but it’s unacceptable. She’s my boss, and she holds my career in her hands. As a woman, she’s had to work twice as hard to get to where she is, and I respect her greatly for that.
“Mr. Hale.” She stands and shakes my hand firmly, then gestures toward a chair near her desk. Her brief smile emphasizes her allure. Once again, I’m drawn to her, even though it’s ridiculous.
“Please, call me Camden.”
“And I’m Inez.” She scrutinizes me again, but this time displeasure crosses her face. I realize I’ve been gawking at her.
“I’m excited to be a member of this team.”
Her eyes narrow as if she’s judging the sincerity of that statement. Any player hell-bent on winning a Cup avoids expansion teams. The possibilities of success in a short time frame are rare. Last season the Icehawks proved why by being at the bottom of the league at the season’s end. This year they’re still in the hunt, but no one outside this city expects anything from them. None of this matters to me. I just want to play hockey.
“I’m sure you’ll be an asset to this team.” Her expression gives nothing away. She’s like an ice princess. I briefly entertain myself by wondering if she ever lets down her hair, figuratively and literally.
I’ve never been a horndog like many hockey players, and my immediate attraction to this formidable woman catches me off guard. Look but don’t touch, I warn myself. Though I’m guessing if I came on to Inez, I’d probably lose my dick. Not that I’d ever do that in a million years. A guy in my precarious position walks a straight line and can’t deviate.
“I’ll do my best.”
“I need more than your best. You’re getting a golden opportunity with this team. I expect you to seize it and prove your worth. This team is made for your style of play.”
“I’m excited to get started.”
Her hard expression doesn’t change, but she nods.
I glance over my shoulder as I hear the distinct staccato of heels on a hard floor and do a double take. Sashaying through the door is a swirl of purple. I require a few seconds to process what I’m seeing. This woman could be sixty or she could be eighty. It’s hard to tell. Her hair is a tasteful shade of gray with purple streaks. She’s wearing an outlandish purple outfit and plenty of diamonds. On her feet are sparkly knee-high boots that I can only describe as what were once called go-go boots. She might be tiny, but I can tell she’s a dynamo and best not crossed. She has that air of authority.
“Auntie Mats.” Inez drops the impersonal act and transforms into a warm, welcoming person as she crosses the room to hug this purple whirlwind. They speak a few words I can’t quite make out before she turns to me.
“Camden, this is Matilda Barlowe, she’s part owner of the team.”
“Ah, the new guy. Let me think. Camden Hale. Welcome to the team.” The elderly woman holds out her hand, and I give her mine. Instead of shaking it, she turns it palm up and traces the lines. “I need to read your palm sometime, young man.”
“Uh, sure. Nice to, uh, meet you, Ms. Barlowe.” I tug my hand out of her grasp but not before noting her purple fingernails. Did I just hear Inez snicker?
“Oh, honey, you can call me Aunt Matilda. Everyone else does. I’ll let you two get back to business. Just popping in to say hi before my friend Ramon picks me up for my hair appointment.” And just like that, she’s gone with a swirl of her purple skirt.
I stare at the empty doorway as I gather my wits about me. When I turn my attention back to Inez, she’s grinning.
“Don’t worry. She has that effect on everyone the first time they meet her.”
I blink a few times. Inez’s frosty exterior has thawed somewhat. “She’s unique.”
“That’s one way of putting it. But don’t let her eccentricities throw you. She’s a shrewd, savvy businesswoman, and she knows her hockey. Also, don’t be left in a room alone with her.”
“What?” I stare at Inez, and she surprises me by laughing but doesn’t explain herself.
“Coach wants to meet with you, and I’ve taken up too much of your time.” She’s all business again and dismissing me by turning her attention to her computer screen.
“Do you need help finding Coach Jeffs’s office? It’s on the first floor.” Inez doesn’t look at me.
“I’m sure I can locate it.”
“Welcome to the team.”
I start to leave, but Inez calls me back.
“One more thing. Claiming you was my decision. I took a risk. I expect results.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” Just what I need—more pressure to perform.
“I believe you’re a good fit for our system. Prove me right.”
“You are right.” I speak with a confidence I don’t feel. “Thank you, again.” I hurry from her office. I’m feeling off-balance and disconcerted by both Inez and Aunt Matilda.
I make my way to the coach’s office. The door is open, and he waves me in.
“Coach Jefferson, I’m Camden Hale.”
He stands, and we shake hands. His gaze pierces into mine, and it’s everything I can do not to squirm under its intensity. I don’t know much about him other than he was a successful college coach and an assistant for Vancouver before landing the Icehawk head coach position.
“Have a seat, Camden. Let’s chat. Practice doesn’t start for another couple hours.”
I sit down across from him. A feeling of déjà vu floods through me. I’ve been in this very situation too many times to count. The coach will brief me on the team and where he sees my role evolving. It’ll all be very positive and upbeat with high expectations they don’t expect me to fulfill.
But Inez does. She just told me so. Having her in my court is both comforting and worrying.
I’m a grinder, which isn’t a bad thing. Guys like me are valuable components to any team. Unfortunately, grinders are also throwaway players who fill a role until they’re no longer needed. I’ve come to terms with my lot in life, but the uncertainty of my position on a team isn’t something anyone gets used to.
As I walk toward the locker room, I hear my name mentioned and freeze. I back up into an alcove and hold my breath. My heart dives to my toes as I listen to this conversation. I don’t want to be caught eavesdropping, but I also don’t want these guys to know I overheard them. That’d be beyond demoralizing and humiliating.
“I don’t understand what Inez was thinking—claiming a grinder like Hale when she could’ve gotten a far superior player in Ivers.”
“She’s only assistant GM because she’s tight with the Barlowes. She’s not qualified and has proven it with this move.”
“Maybe he’s a better fit for our system than Ivers,” says a third voice that’s been quiet until now.
“How so?”
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to find a reason for her decision.”
“Who the fuck knows?”
The three guys laugh, and the subject changes as the voices move farther and farther away. I don’t hear anything more and slip from my hiding place. I glance up and down the hall. No one’s around.
I’m sick inside. Not only is it tough being on a team where I’m not wanted, but it’s worse hearing it from my new teammates. I don’t know any of the voices, and I don’t want to know.
I have two choices. Be defeated or rise above it and prove myself—once again.
It’s still early, and the locker room is empty when I enter. My practice uniform, skates, and pads hang neatly in my stall. My name’s on the back of my jersey. These equipment staff are on the ball, and I’m grateful for that. I’ve arrived in locker rooms before without any equipment and a jersey with my name spelled wrong. Who the fuck can’t spell Hale?
I sit down to reflect on the past twenty-four hours and prepare myself for meeting my new teammates. I don’t wait long. The door opens, and Dashel Bates strides inside followed by Kirby Darkhorse and Drakos Lenkov. I know them by reputation but have never played on a team with any of these men.
Dash, the team captain, spots me and grins. He heads in my direction flanked by the other two.
“Cam, welcome to the Icehawks.” His smile is genuine and friendly, and his voice isn’t one of those I heard minutes ago. My earlier misgivings begin to fade, and I start to feel better about my situation.
I stand, and we shake hands. “Dash, good to be here.”
Drakos shakes my hand too. “Welcome,” he says with an accent. I recall that he’s from Ukraine.
Kirby Darkhorse is the last to approach. He studies me to the point of discomfort before he speaks. “Have faith in your abilities. This will be a great opportunity for you, as this team has been for many of us. There are no fourth-liners and no superstars in this room. We’re all a collection of second- and third-liners. We play as a unit and expect production up and down the lines. You’ll do fine.”
“Thank you.” I don’t know how to take his comments, but the other two merely chuckle, as if they’re accustomed to his directness.
“Where are you staying?” Dash asks.
“At the Portland Plaza Hotel a few blocks away. I haven’t had time to find a place yet.”
“In the past, I’d have advised you to go to Inez, but she’s no longer in that position. Try Shelby. Hopefully she can help.”
“The shy one?” I doubt she’d be able to help me with much. She seems overwhelmed.
“Yes, she’s a little skittish, but she’s competent.” Kirby sits down at a stall a few seats down.
“Good to know.”
“I have a spare bedroom with its own private bathroom I’d rent to you if you’re interested. It’s in a secure building a few blocks away.” The generosity of Drakos’s offer surprises me. Maybe these guys will be better teammates than I’ve had in the past. I think back to my brief time a few years ago with the Seattle Sockeyes. One of their cocky young guys hated being on a line with me and did everything in his power to sabotage my game to make himself look better. As a result, I was traded after only a few months. It still hurt to think about it. I was expendable. He wasn’t.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Drakos grins and winks to reassure me. “Besides, it’s nice to have someone distract that witch Aria from dissing all over me every chance she gets.”
“Aria? The sports reporter?”
Dash’s chuckle catches my attention. “Aria has a problem with Drakos. They’ve had a few run-ins in the past, and it wasn’t pretty. Don’t take anything she says to heart. She’s been out to prove herself for the past couple years by covering every aspect of this team, and a lot of the time we don’t appreciate her coverage.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I’m very aware of what Aria posted regarding my waiver claim.
“She’s been on my ass for the past few months,” Jakob Bang adds from nearby.
“But she always comes back to Drakos. She’s got a vendetta against you, buddy.” Jason “Wildman” Wilder walks up to me and shakes my hand. “Good to see you again, Hale.” He was on the Sockeyes during my brief tenure there.
“Yeah, I know,” Drakos grumped.
“Drake can’t stand that Aria is the one single woman who doesn’t drop her panties within five seconds of being around him.” Lane “Koko” Koehler is one of the goalies. He’s a cocky bastard, and I’ve heard scuttlebutt that he gets lazy in net if the team has a lead. Slacking off has bitten him in the butt more than once.
“The Drake likes to party, so be prepared,” Kirby warns.
“I can handle it.” I’m not much of a party boy, but I have been known to occasionally drown my sorrows in a random hookup or a bottle of whiskey or both.
“Good luck.” Dash snorts and catches Kirby’s eye. There’s a silent communication between these two that I can’t and won’t decipher.
“You can move in after practice,” Drakos volunteers.
“Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I really do. Beats living in a hotel and eating out all the time.”
“Do you cook?” Drakos sounds hopeful.
“I do. I’m pretty good at it.”
“Well, then, you’re my new best friend.” Drakos leans across the space between us, and we fist-bump.
The other guys trickle in, and every one of them greets me with sincere welcomes. I’m caught off guard by their friendliness. Even so, I’m bothered by the conversation I heard earlier and find myself attempting to pinpoint whose voices I heard. I can’t tell, but Drakos, Dash, and Kirby weren’t involved.
But then who was? I haven’t met one guy who seems unhappy with my presence here. Regardless, there are at least three of them who disapproved of Inez’s choice.
Regardless, we’re all professionals. Guys coming and going on a team is part of the game. They’re all used to losing and adding teammates.
I vow to be the new guy who makes a difference. Now to figure out how to do that. The team is counting on me. And so is Inez. Don’t ask me why but making her proud is important to me.