Chapter Two
Tristan
My thighs are on fire, my quads are trembling, and there is a very real possibility that I’m going to wipe out on this next circuit.
“Go, go, go!” Coach Metcalfe waves his arm in a circle, urging us to push ourselves harder. “I want speed. I want precision. I want to see your best, and then I want you to do better.”
I push myself through the next lap, but I’m already exhausted. I’ve been off my game all day. I’d like to blame last night’s bad sleep, but it’s hard to ignore the reason I couldn’t sleep: I’m lonely.
I’ve had nothing but casual relationships since I joined the Venom.
I’ve never been someone who goes for one night stands, barring a couple of wild parties in college, but I haven’t had a lot of time for dating, either.
My most recent situationship, a woman named Katie who worked as a dancer, cut things off four months ago when she decided to move to LA to pursue an acting career.
Katie was hot, and the sex was amazing, but we never really dated.
We had very little in common outside of our mutual interests in each other’s bodies.
And yeah, I miss the sex, but lately I want more.
Not too much, like Viktor’s wife Knova. I’m not that intense.
And Camden’s fiancée, Dot, is so quiet… I want someone I can have a conversation with.
Not like I’d be making a move on my teammate’s wives, anyway, but when I try to imagine the kind of woman I’d want to meet, no one comes to mind.
I just know that I’d want to meet someone smart and capable, like… Julie.
How the fuck did someone like Dante land Julie?
“Dubois!”
I grimace. Coach is going to chew me out for letting my mind wander during drills, and I can’t even argue with him this time. My head has been miles away from the ice all morning. I adjust course toward him, ready to face the music.
“Dubois, get over here and stop dawdling!”
My head snaps up. The team owner, Dante Giovanetti, is standing at the edge of the rink, along with some kid, and… Julie. What the hell? Can Dante read minds? Did he know that I was just thinking about his wife? It wasn’t even like that!
I skate over to see what’s going on. Dante looms alongside the railing. Wild, how a guy who barely reaches my shoulder when we’re standing on the same level was born to loom.
“What can I do for you, sir?” I ask.
Dante jabs a finger toward the kid. “Meet your new assistant.”
“I don’t have an old assistant,” I blurt.
Dante’s eyes narrow. “Are you fucking with me, kid?”
“No, sir.”
He relaxes marginally. “That’s more like it.”
I’m at a loss, truth be told. Why would Dante hire some kid to assist me? I glance at the girl, who’s holding a plastic to-go cup in a death grip.
Now that I’m close enough to get a good look at her face, I realize that she’s older than I first assumed. I read her lanky body, unwashed hair, and sullen demeanor as classic teenage vibes, but I can see now that I was wrong. She’s not sullen. She’s scared.
Of what? This job? Dante?
Me?
I turn back to my boss. “Is she, uh, a gift from the main office?”
“In what respect? You mean… did I go to all the trouble of finding you the perfect person to get your life in order? Or are you asking if I’m paying her salary?”
“The second one,” I say.
Dante bristles once again. This guy is so touchy, but until today, I’ve mostly managed to fly under his radar. “This is a business, you crazy Canuck. No, I’m not paying her salary, too.”
“Right. Of course not. So, thank you for finding me an assistant I didn’t request and an expense I didn’t agree to.”
Julie makes a face, but Dante spreads his hands in a magnanimous gesture. “See? Was that so hard? You’re welcome.” He turns to walk away, but Julie and my new assistant follow.
After only a few paces, Dante stops in his tracks. “Minnie, honey, you wait here. Tristan’s taking you to lunch.”
This is too much. “We’re doing lunch, too? Did you have a place in mind?”
I’ve been so absorbed in this bizarre conversation that I didn’t hear half the team skate up behind me. I jump when Viktor elbows me before coughing into his fist. “Ixnay on the acktalkbay.”
I elbow him right back and lower my voice. “Pig Latin? Really? You think Dante doesn’t know…”
Dante comes striding back. He points at me. “That’s right, Dubois. I know everything. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll make this work.”
“Right. Got it. Thanks again.” I turn to skate back to the ice. I should be practicing shots with my group right now, though I doubt my performance will improve after this little incident.
“Where are you going?” Dante demands.
I twist back to face him. “Practice?”
Dante grips the railing and looms again. Seriously, how does he do it? “No. In case I was unclear, she starts today.”
“I get it.”
“Clearly, you don’t. Go shower. She starts now. Practice is over.”
The guys, even the ones who kept up their drills during Dante’s little speech, make a collective break for the door. Coach throws his hands in the air. “What the fuck, boss? I can’t bring back your magic if you cut my practices short!”
“I have faith in you,” Dante says. Behind him, my new assistant—Minnie?
—is speaking to Julie under her breath. She seems frantic, and I wonder if this was as much a surprise for her as it was for me.
I feel a twinge of guilt about the way I dismissed her just now.
Dante’s back on his bullshit, but I have nothing against this woman. She looks like she’s been living rough.
I follow everyone else to the locker rooms, grumbling as I go. My teammate Knight, who’s already peeling off gear nearby, laughs when he sees my face. “Dude, an assistant’s not that bad. Marley keeps me from scheduling a root canal during practice.”
I side-eye him. “You don’t have practice. You are the practice.”
Knight tosses a shin-guard into his bag. “You’re just scared she’s gonna make you eat a vegetable.”
“I eat vegetables!”
My response prompts a round of snickers from the room. Methinks I doth protested too much.
“Fries don’t count,” Adler chimes in from across the room.
Our team captain, Viktor, peels off his sweaty jersey. “I feel like she has the potential to be librarian hot, if you don’t want her, I call dibs.”
I whip my own damp shirt at him. “You’re married, asshole. And your wife’s scarier than Dante. It’d be your funeral.” Anyway, Minnie is skinny and jump scares at her own shadow, definitely not my type.
Knight ignores his brother-in-law. “All jokes aside, man, Marley changed my whole life. Made it easier. Cleaner. You never know, Dubois. This girl might be what you didn’t know you needed.”
I head for the showers. “Sure. Maybe.”
But I doubt it.
* * *
I wait for Minnie outside the arena café. She can’t have gone far. Though, if she did run off, that’s one problem solved, isn’t it? Knight might benefit from an assistant, but I’m not convinced I will. My life is pretty straightforward.
I order a coffee and a sandwich while I wait.
I’m taking my first swig of delicious caffeine goodness when Minnie approaches, clutching a handbag, in the ill-fitting clothes from earlier.
Her eyes keep darting away from me, though I can’t tell if she’s concerned about making eye contact, or if she’s scanning our vicinity for signs of danger.
I note the dark circles under her eyes and the way her clothes don’t quite fit.
Who the hell is she to be worthy of Dante’s rapt attention?
“I don’t want this to be weird,” she says as she hovers over the other chair.
“Too late.” I flash her a grin, though I’m pretty sure it’s stilted. “Do you want to order anything?”
She perches on the edge of her seat and shakes her head.
I open my sandwich, pick up one half, and nudge the other half toward her, still in the paper wrapper. Her cheeks burn, and she folds her hands in her lap, as if resisting temptation.
“Go on,” I urge. “Or I can get you something. Since you’re my assistant now.”
Her narrow shoulders creep higher. “That wasn’t my idea.”
“I think I can guess whose idea it was.” My smile feels more natural this time. “Take the sandwich. It’s fine.”
Minnie frowns at the sandwich for a moment.
Then her eyes flick toward my face, and I have to catch my breath.
There’s something there: pain, loneliness, and fear.
Real fear, no oh no I might blow this interview fear.
I’m overcome by the sudden impulse to reach toward her, to take her hand in mine or wrap my arm around her shoulder and tell her that she’s safe with me.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure that would put us solidly in the camp of unforgivable weirdness. I reach for my sandwich instead and take a bite.
After a long moment, Minnie does the same. She lets out a little squeak of surprise, then tears into the next three bites so fast that I’m not sure she chews them on the way down.
Minnie catches me watching and immediately lowers the sandwich back to the wrapper. “Sorry.”
I’m not sure what she’s apologizing for, so I just shrug.
“I get that way, too, after practice.” To demonstrate, I take an enormous bite of my food, which has the added benefit of keeping my mouth occupied for a good thirty seconds while I chew through my rye BLT.
Across from me, Minni stares at the table and picks at the crust of her bread.
“You’re not really an assistant, are you?” I ask.
Minnie sinks lower in her chair. “Actually, I’m an unemployed biomedical engineer.”
I whistle. “In Vegas? How can you afford it?”
“Unemployment?” Her lopsided smile is as fake as mine was a moment ago. “I can’t. I live in my car.”
“You… what?”
“I’ve been living in my car for the last two weeks. I’ve been spending a lot of time in the arena parking deck since my dad cut me off.”
“You’ve been sleeping in your car. In Vegas.” I can’t believe it. Why did Dante leave her out there for two weeks?
“It’s safer than the alternative.” She takes a much smaller nibble of her sandwich. “And it was the VIP area.”