Cold As Ice Page 3

  “That’s right. It’s a red carpet event.” He waited for my reaction. I had to fake something exceptional. Pretend everything thing he did impressed me down to the tips of my pointy heels.

  “Oh that’s amazing, Mist—Charlie,” I caught the mistake in time. If I annoyed him he’d start to deduct from my tip. “What is the red carpet? I’ve only seen them on TV. I’ve always wondered what they are like in person.”

  “My company has partnered with one of the studios to supply all their lighting for the next five years. It’s a lucrative investment for me and you’re going to see my name on the credits on every single series or movie that’s produced in the next five years—maybe even longer.”

  “You must be thrilled. Is that what the event is?”

  “It’s a movie premiere. You’ve never been to a movie premiere, Noelle?”

  I shook my head. “Not this Richmond girl.” I smiled. “I haven’t had the opportunity.” I didn’t want him to misinterpret my statement. I wasn’t interested in an invitation.

  Charlie Babcock owned the South’s largest manufacturer of lighting equipment, including light bulbs. He outfitted home and industrial fixtures. He was worth billions.

  “I can tell you Tom Hanks is going to be there.” He loved to name drop. Half the names I’d never heard of, but this time I perked up.

  “Really? He’s incredible.” I opened our portfolio of tuxedos and began flipping through the pages to find something Charlie would like. He pretended to be fashion-forward, but for a man who was forty, he was ultra conservative in his wardrobe.

  “What about something like this?” I pointed to a three-piece tux. It was fitted, but not too slim of a cut.

  Charlie sat in one of the velvet chairs. “Why don’t you bring that over here? I want to see it up close.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Money. Money. Money. I had to pay off the Ice Puppies ice camp fee. Money. Flirt. Laugh. Repeat.

  “This one.” I smiled leaning over in front of the billionaire. His eyes weren’t on the tux. They were on my lace bra, even though he had to stare past the top buttons of my shirt. He didn’t give a shit that I had caught him. I tapped the photo again to redirect his attention. “I could change the vest to something more contrasting, but I think black looks best on you.”

  He leaned back, swirling the scotch in the glass. His gaze was full of lust. I’d seen him look at me that way before. “How are things going at the museum?” He liked to pretend he was interested in my life. Actually, I was surprised he remembered I had a day job that didn’t involve dressing him.

  I smiled sweetly. He pointed at the floor, and I knelt in front of him, tilted back on my heels. “Good. I had a proposal pitch this morning.” Every once in a while, I’d throw in a nugget for him.

  “A proposal? You know I like it when you talk business, Noelle. Tell me about the proposal.”

  My palms started to feel slightly clammy, holding the book outstretched. I was in a ridiculous position, but I’d present it as long as my foot didn’t fall asleep.

  “It was a presentation on how the interactive center inside the museum should increase the budget to include art experience for children.”

  His brow furrowed. He widened his legs and I knew that was my cue to inch closer with the glossy tux photos. “Art experience? What does that mean? Explain it further.” I thought I might have actually had his attention.

  “Well, I believe there is a way to let the children who visit the museum be immersed in the art they see on display by giving them the mediums to work with. Clay, oil, pastels, maybe the occasional very dull piece of metal sculpture.” I smiled wryly.

  “Did you get the money you asked for?” he asked blankly.

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll find out in a couple of weeks.” My left foot was starting to go numb, I tried to wiggle my toes inside my shoes.

  “I’m sure you made a convincing argument.”

  “Thank you.” My eyes met his and I had to force myself not to break eye contact.

  “I think I’ve changed my mind about something,” he announced.

  I moved gingerly, letting the blood recirculate in my foot before I stood tall. I retracted the tuxedo book. “What’s that? You’d rather go with a suit for the event? I can pull some other choices for you. Something in a classic style?”

  He shook his head. “It’s bigger than that. I think you’re going to need to outfit me for the entire trip, Noelle. I want you to assemble my entire wardrobe. Three days in New York. Lunches. Dinners. Breakfasts.”

  My chest clenched. “But we’ve already started so late, Charlie. Do you want to book another appointment for tomorrow night? Or you could work with one of the stylists who has daytime hours if you’d prefer.”

  He grinned, handing me the empty glass. “That’s all right. I have all night. I’ll tell Mr. Harrel I’ll pay to keep this room open for us as long as we need it.”

  My throat tightened at the implication. He cocked his head sideways. “You’re okay with that, aren’t you? I know it’s going to be a long night, but I promise to compensate you. Double what I paid you last time. How does that sound?”

  I blinked. “But that’s a thousand dollars, Mr. Bab—Charlie. Sorry. That’s a lot of money for a stylist.”

  “If you’re the one making sure I can walk the red carpet with the Hollywood A-listers, it’s worth every penny.”

  I stared at the man, hating him completely and utterly.

  “I’d love to help you plan your wardrobe for New York, Charlie.”

  “I’ll go speak to Mr. Harrel and make sure we’re not disturbed.” I clasped the empty glass of scotch in my palms as he strolled past me.

  He walked out of the room and I bit the side of my cheek to keep myself in check. I’d done this with him plenty of times. I could do it again. He wasn’t paying me to have sex with him. A man like Charlie could have sex with any woman he wanted. No, he was paying to push every boundary I set. He liked that kind of game.

  He’d ask me to measure the inseam just two more times, so the measurement was correct. He’d ask me to secure the top bottom on his collar and lean away to draw me closer, maybe even make me stumble into his chest. He’d ask me to double-check the zipper on his designer pants so that there was no question it was in proper working order. He would ask me to kneel in front of him and examine the cuffs on his pant legs. All of this would be done under the guise of being styled and fitted. If my hair fell across his cheek and he growled a little, my tip went up. If I asked to perform a third inseam measurement and lingered longer, my tip would go up. If I told him it was best to measure his shoulder width while his shirt was off, my tip would go up.

  For a thousand dollars I could do all of that.

  And I would.

  6

  Jack

  I slapped my phone on the bedside table. The sound it made was aggravating. It hit again. Once. Twice. It took me a minute to realize it wasn’t my alarm. I shook the sleep from my head and answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Novak, hey man, it’s Cisco.”

  I sat forward. “What time is it?”

  “Six,” he answered.

  I should have already been awake, but ever since the surgery my schedule hadn’t gone back to normal. 5am wakeups had become 7am mornings. Eddie said to be more patient with myself. He didn’t grasp what I was up against.

  “What’s going on?” I hadn’t talked to Cisco since the move to Richmond. We’d exchanged a few texts but not much.

  “I wanted to give you a heads up. I know this is shitty, but I wanted to tell you before you see it on Sports Center.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about? See what on Sports Center?” It was too early for guessing games.

  There was a long pause. “Coach was fired last night.”

  “What? Is this some kind of joke?” By Coach, he meant Tom Felt. He was a legend with the Milwaukee Ice.

  There was nothing funny in Cisco’s voice. “So
me of the guys have already been put on alert and I know you’re with the Dires now, but the league is going to do an investigation. A full investigation. That means they are probably going to come to you.”

  “Slow down. Why was Felt fired?”

  Cisco sighed. “Two girls came forward from the front office.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. It’s fucked up. He tried to pay them off. I heard some of the assistants who were let go years ago are going to file complaints too.”

  “What are they saying exactly?” I’d always heard rumors. Talk. Gossip. I stayed out of the front office. I went to practice, and I played hockey for the Ice. That was it.

  “They’re saying he paid them to have three-ways in his office on the nights we lost home games.”

  “Mother fucker,” I growled. My head spun. I thought I was going to be sick. The image of what Cisco just described was burned behind my eyelids.

  “It’s going to get a lot worse. His wife already moved out with the kids yesterday.”

  I dropped my head in my hands.

  “Novak? You still there?”

  “Yeah.” My mouth was dry. I needed water. “So it’s true?” My words were low, but Cisco heard me. “Can this be true? Would he have done that?”

  “What do you think?”

  God, the man was a whore. We knew it. He slept around on the road, but when we came home, he preached about being a family man. He boasted about not missing his kids’ games and making ballet recitals. Girls on the road were groupies. Women he picked up in the bars or at the hotel. It wasn’t any of my damn business how he handled his marriage. But this? This news?

  I was reeling.

  “They’re going to want to interview you,” Cisco continued to explain.

  “Me?” I almost choked. “Why do they want to talk to me? I knew he slept around, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

  “We all knew something,” Cisco answered quietly. “We knew something.”

  “What am I supposed to do? I’m in Richmond now. I’ve got camps with little kids this week and after the All-Stars return, we have a game.”

  “There’s a lot of speculation right now, but I think the league wants to keep it quiet while they work through the investigation. They’ll probably fly you back up. I don’t know for sure but expect a call today.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “No one can. Sick bastard.”

  I stood next to my bed. “What an asshole. A lying disgusting asshole,” I groaned. “I hope they nail him for what he’s done to those women.”

  “Yeah. Me too. But keep it to yourself.”

  “How? How are they going a story like that quiet?” I was nauseated from everything Cisco had just told me. Adding silence to it, only made me feel sicker.

  “The team is going to put out a statement about workplace accusations pushing them to fire Felt. That’s as far as they’re going to go with it. For now. No one knows about the three-ways.”

  I stumbled to the bathroom keeping the phone to my ear. I turned on the water, running my palm under the cold stream and rubbing it across my face. I had started perspiring across my forehead. Shit.

  “I’ve got to go,” I lied. “I have workouts this morning.” I didn’t have to be at the camp until 10am. I couldn’t stomach anymore of what he said. I needed time to think.

  “Glad I caught you.”

  “Yeah. Talk to you later. I’ll keep my phone on me.”

  I placed the phone on the counter and stared at my reflection. I was haunted by what I saw. Was Cisco right? Did I know more than what I was allowing myself to admit? Had I heard something all those years in Milwaukee? Had I seen something in the Ice front office that made me suspect women who worked for the organization were being sexually mistreated and abused? Had I missed it? Or had I seen shame in their eyes? Expressions begging for me to help them? Pleading for someone to step in and stop the abuse? Did I ignore them or was I just blind?

  I splashed more water on my face and brushed my teeth. Bastard.

  It was the first morning I was glad I was in Virginia and not Wisconsin. If I had been back home I would have slugged that man. The man who had given me a starting position and welcomed me into the NHL.

  He had betrayed his wife and kids. Violated the trust of the women who worked for him. He had lied to us. He lied to everyone.

  I made a cup of coffee and took a quick shower. I wanted to get in the therapy tub in th physical therapy suite before the other guys showed up today.

  A thirty-minute soak before I got on the ice might help the ache that started from the cold.

  I drove to the arena, cranked up the music, and peeled into a player parking spot.

  Damn it, Felt.

  * * *

  It was the end of day two of tot hockey camp. Their tiny faces stared back at us. Henrik was on one side of me and Bradley on the other. At least I was learning my teammates’ names.

  “Okay, so you understand how the scrimmage works?” Bradley asked.

  The girls nodded in unison. I had already picked Phoebe to be on my team. Two Dires on a team with four girls each. We were going to leave the goals open. The Ice Puppies voted to keep score, which I liked. Why play if there was no score?

  We split up into the two designated teams.

  The girls obviously couldn’t cover as much ice as full grown men, but I had to laugh when they started skating in all directions. It was like swatting at gnats to keep them off me when I had the puck.

  Phoebe stayed close by so I could pass her the puck like we practiced yesterday. She had gotten the hang of it when I sent her a second pass.

  7

  Noelle

  It was easy to spot Phoebe on the ice. Her braids flopped in the gust of wind she created. I remembered the first time I had to extract her Wonder Woman cape from her inaugural practice. Her lip quivered and her bottom lids brimmed with tears. She didn’t think she could skate without her cape. It was as important to her as a security blanket. But there was something in that child’s DNA that overpowered fear and anxiety. It was a stronger pull than anything I could try to match. She loved ice. She loved hockey.

  I left the museum thirty minutes early so I could catch the end of camp today. I was scheduled at Millers for the next three nights. I was trying to steal time with her any way I could. The extraordinary tip from Charlie Babcock was burning like a lump of coal in my purse. While Phoebe changed in the locker room, I’d take care of the last payment for camp. With what Charlie paid me last night, I had enough to cover her entire hockey season.

  But I didn’t feel like I was ahead. I never would, not until my museum job covered all our expenses. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  Phoebe waved at me from the ice. She was at one end of the rink playing a scrimmage game while the girls at the other end practiced shooting drills. Softballs rolled all over the ice.

  “Can you believe the Dires picked up Jack Novak?”

  “Hmm?” I turned when one of the hockey dads plunked down a seat over from me.

  He pointed toward the scrimmage end of the arena. “He’s right over there. He was an All-Star defenseman for three years. Huge get for us, except he’s hurt. Or at least coming back from an injury.”

  The player he was talking about was skating with Phoebe. “Is it safe for him to be out there if he’s hurt?” I asked.

  The dad shrugged. “He’s on the roster. I saw a scouting report that he’s going to practice next week. Must be rehabbed enough to play.”

  “What kind of injury was it?” I felt like I needed to fill the silence since the dad had volunteered the information.

  “Broke his leg.” His eyes widened. “Bad break too. Surgery and everything. It’s why the Ice cut him.”

  “Wow. That’s awful.”

  “I don’t think anyone saw him making a comeback after that.”

  “I guess not.” I stared at Phoebe and the tall skater towering over her. It was hard to make
out his features from so far away.

  “He’s a big star. It’s great we have him. He’s just been off the ice for months. I hope he can turn things around here.”

  “Yeah, that would be great,” I responded absently. I didn’t follow hockey player careers. I didn’t even know the names of the Dires. I made it a point to keep them out of my long-term memory.

  “How long has your daughter been playing?” he asked. I saw the gold band on his finger.

  “It’s her second year.” I smiled. “She loves it.”

  “Mine too. Third girl of ours to play.”

  “Really? That’s amazing. You must be big Dires fans, I guess.”

  “I’ve got four daughters. The oldest plays soccer. We try to make a few games a year. They love going to as many games as they can.”

  I felt guilty. I didn’t take Phoebe to any of the Dires games. The idea of sitting in the stands without knowing who was skating, made me too anxious. It was like standing outside with an umbrella during a lightning storm. I was asking for trouble if I brought her here. I wasn’t about to shine a spotlight on my recklessness. Not if Phoebe would be the one who had to pay for it.

  There would be a time when I wouldn’t be able to avoid the draw to the games. She was going to beg me to see her favorite team. When I reached that point, I could tell Cal or Daniel it was finally their big chance to help me. Until then, I would avoid it and all interactions with the NHL.