Chapter 2
Elise - Retreat
As I survey the concrete corridors of Huffman arena, envisioning how to transform the sterile space into an appealing winter display with my signature living ice sculptures, the words of my best friend and business advisor Shay Stevens echo in my head like an annoying car alarm that I can’t seem to figure out how to turn off.
“Seriously, Elise? A hockey stadium? You’ve got so many opportunities at the moment; you don’t need this job.
Rumor has it the Golden Blades are the bad boys of hockey, notorious for breaking hearts all over.
They make baseball players look like amateurs in the sport of womanizing.
Need I remind you that professional athletes are not a distraction you can afford?
If you want to date someone, find a like-minded artist who’s warm, sensitive, and understands your career goals.
And if you’re just looking to get laid, find a friend with benefits. ”
“I get that, but I also know you. I’m the one who had to stand by and help pick up the pieces of your heart after the disaster with Devin.”
The memory of my public humiliation after seeing my ex-fiancé, pro baseball player Devin Rhodes’, multiple cheating escapades spread all over tabloids and social media still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
The one good thing to come out of that fiasco is that it propelled me to pack up and move from Chicago to the seaside bliss and year-round warmth of Pelican Point, Florida, for a fresh start.
The charming town is small enough that it’s a quiet retreat from all of the noise and notoriety of a large city, but close enough to the amenities and space I require to focus on my craft.
As I continue surveying and measuring areas for my project, I find myself in the tunnel the team uses to enter the ice.
I already know that I want to create something special for the team here in this spot.
Peeking out on the ice, I can see some of the players running drills.
To my right, two of them are practicing what I know, even with limited hockey knowledge, is called a face-off, two players vying for control of the puck.
And the guy coaching them through it? None other than the team Captain who I met yesterday, Jax Morgan.
Despite all of the protective gear, I know it’s him.
Although I barely made eye contact during our introduction, I couldn’t help but notice him during the meeting.
Even without all of the padding, he appeared larger than life, much different from the body type I’m typically attracted to.
Not that I am attracted, I remind myself.
I’m just admiring. Admiring his massive male presence.
Admiring the dark hair that falls below his collar, curling up at the ends outside of his helmet.
Admiring what the helmet he’s wearing fails to hide—his beard and those eyes that are dark as night.
I’m an introvert by nature, and an expert at hiding things, so he doesn’t fool me a bit with what he’s obviously trying to shield from his fellow athletes.
As I observe from the sidelines, I see the slight hesitation in his movements, the negligible wince of pain barely visible in his eyes.
When he thinks someone is watching, he immediately composes his face into a blank mask.
The vulnerability he’s managing to hide from everyone else is such a contrast to the public persona he displayed in yesterday’s meeting and the man I’ve seen on social media.
I may have spent some time googling him last night, but I’ll never admit that to Shay.
I call it research. Research into the environment I’ll be working in and the dynamics of hockey.
Despite what I told her earlier and what I’m telling myself to the contrary now, I’m curious about the man behind the mask.
Before I can retreat, he skates over to me.
“Hey there.”
Damn. That’s what I get for letting my curiosity get the best of me.
“Hello.”
“Elise, right? Do you like to watch hockey?”
I can’t let myself get caught up in those eyes, so I look beyond him, fixating on the advertising signs on the far side of the arena. “I don’t know enough about it to know whether I like it.” At least that’s a true statement.
“Want to learn? The boys and I can show you a few basics.”
Get out now, Elise, before you make a fool of yourself. “Maybe another time. I should get back to work.”
I haven’t even settled in to this job yet and I’m already flirting with disaster. Focus, Elise. Keep your eye on the ball, or in this case the puck, not the player. Your future depends on it.