Bear Meets Girl (38 page)

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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: Bear Meets Girl
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Ric watched Cella Malone take the hopefuls through the paces. Unlike Novikov, she wasn’t a ridiculous bastard about it, but she wasn’t so nice that she was ineffectual. That was a great skill to have.
Novikov sat down next to him.
“I don’t know why I have to sit here with you two.”
“Because you’re an asshole?” Lock asked.
Novikov leaned over Ric. “You got something to say to me, humpback?”
“As a matter of fact—”
“Hey!” Cella was in front of them. She raised her hands together, then pushed them apart. “Separate.” She snarled and spit out between clenched teeth, “I said
separate.
”
Lock and Novikov sat back in their seats.
“I swear,” Cella said, shaking her head. “You’re worse than my baby brothers. You two—like cats in a bag.”
Ric watched her get back to work. “Impressive, huh?”
“What?” Lock asked, using the handle of his hockey stick to scratch his forehead.
“Cella.” Ric pointed at Novikov. “She handles this homicidal idiot quite well, wouldn’t you say?”
“You do know I can hear you, right?”
“Know, but don’t care.”
Crush walked down another long hallway, letting his nose lead him. He eventually tracked the girl down by the soda machines. She was dressed in her hockey gear, skates included, but she was pressed between a Coke machine and a water cooler.
He knew that look on her face, too. He’d had it when he’d tried out for his school’s hockey team—and failed miserably. In fact, Crush was mocked for a good six months—until the growth spurt. Amazing what an obnoxious fourteen-year-old left wing hanging from the school flagpole could do for a white-haired boy’s rep.
“Cella sent me to look for you.”
“I can’t do it. There’s like thirty guys out there.”
“Some of them are female.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“Don’t judge.”
“No, no. I wasn’t. It’s just ...” Hannah shook her head. “I can’t do it. I can’t go out there and make a fool of myself.”
Crush walked farther into the lunch room, closer to the snack machines. “Have you ever been on skates?”
She nodded. “I used to figure skate. It made sense when I was five. Then I was twelve and—”
“Suddenly five-ten?”
“Try six feet.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. My poor parents.”
“Why were they surprised?”
She shrugged. “I was adopted. They were full-human. I didn’t know what I was until my ninth grade English teacher told me. When she told me I was ‘special,’ I thought she was just hitting on me.”
“Kind of a glass-half-empty girl?”
“It
is
half empty. Half full makes no sense.”
Crush pressed his back into the wall, ducking his head so she couldn’t see him smile.
“At the very least,” he was finally able to tell her without laughing, “you can skate. You won’t fall on your face. Some of the ones trying out ... not pretty.”
“I haven’t skated in years. And I’m just not sure that I should be put into violent situations that involve sticks and big guys aggressively coming at me.”
“Why not?”
Her eyes lowered and she seemed to suddenly close in on herself. Crush watched her, his head tilting to the side. The cop in him had a litany of questions to ask her, but that wasn’t what she needed right now: a cop asking why she shouldn’t be in violent situations. So Crush said, “Think of it this way ... if you don’t go to the tryout, Blayne will think you’re still available.”
Hannah’s head snapped up, her eyes blinking wide. “Oh, God. I forgot.”
“So you might as well give it a shot, right?”
She snorted, nodded her head. “Yeah. You’re right. I might as well just get this over with.”
She headed off and Crush followed, the pair walking back into the rink. Cella smiled when she saw them, and skated over.
“Am I too late?” Hannah asked.
“Nope. Not at all. In fact, I want you to hit the ice with these two ladies. They’ve been doing really well today.” Cella motioned to two Arctic She-foxes. Sisters. No. Actually twins. They made their way over and stopped, grinning. “This is Nita and Nina Gallo.”
“Hi!” the tiny foxes said in unison. Crush would guess they weren’t older than nineteen. Maybe. They were cute, though, but tiny. Five-six, if that, and maybe a hundred pounds. He had to admit, he was surprised they were here. Foxes this age were usually off doing something that required Crush to arrest them. Or, at the very least,
try
to arrest them. The sole reason that he, unlike most polars, had no foxes to call his own.
“We’ll meet you out on the ice!” these foxes chirped. Then they waved and skated off.
Hannah looked up at him. “Because it’ll be so much fun for me to be the giant ogre standing over the little elf girls.”
“Welcome to my world, kid. Now go out there and do some damage.”
 
Cella saw the looks on the guys’ faces and skated over to them. “Well?”
Van Holtz and MacRyrie shrugged, but Novikov ... “She’ll need work,” he complained.
“I know.”
“All three of them will.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Her skating is beyond rusty. And the other two have the attention spans of fleas.”
“I know. I know.” Cella didn’t argue. She waited.
“She’s fast, though,” he finally admitted. “And the foxes, with some serious training, could be pretty good. Maybe.”
Cella nodded. “I think you’re right. Instead of putting them on right away, why not go your route? Start ’em off in the minors and let them work their way up.” Of course, one of Cella’s uncles was the assistant coach of the minors so Cella kind of worked with the minor team anyway, but no need to mention that.
Novikov looked off. “Well ... that
might
work.”
She glanced at Van Holtz and MacRyrie. They were staring at her, eyes wide, until Van Holtz mouthed at her,
How do you do that?
 
They sat in Dee-Ann’s car, staring across the street.
“That’s a ...”
“Yeah. A country club. For very rich people.”
“Huh. Learn something new every day.”
They hadn’t driven all the way from Atlantic City to the Hamptons; they had taken Van Holtz’s helicopter from AC to the Hamptons, a rental car taking them here. To a country club.
The girl pointed. “He came out of there.”
“Past that hedge?”
“Yeah. But I think there’s a door there.”
“Okay.”
Sophie briefly chewed her bottom lip.
“What?”
“I just don’t know if you should ...”
“If I should what?”
“Challenge these people.”
“Because they’re rich?”
“Look, I don’t steal some poor guy’s Prius or the Ford he inherited from his dad, you know? That’s not my thing.”
“You steal from rich people.”
“And I know my targets. I know them really well. I make it my business to know. Although the town, in theory, owns the country club, there’s a man who runs it. And he’s not dangerous just because he’s rich. He’s dangerous because he knows how to play both sides of any situation. He practically makes me seem like Mother Teresa. Just ... be careful.”
And that was why Dee hadn’t simply found out from the girl where she’d picked up the Callahan kid and let her go. That sort of information took time to pull from a person. “Thanks for the warning.” Dee handed the girl a business card.
Sophie turned it over in her hand. “It’s just a number.”
“It’s my number. You need me, you call. Understand?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Good.” Dee started the car. “Now, let’s see if we can track down a White Castle before I let you go.”
“You want to track down a White Castle in the Hamptons?”
Dee grinned. “I believe in livin’ large.”
“Yeah. I can see that.”
 
Cella stood outside the locker room staring up at a bear-canine hybrid who could barely look her in the eye.
“You don’t have to make any decisions now, Hannah. But you should at least think about it.”
“Yeah, it’s just ...”
“Just what?”
“If I say yes, will they continue to follow me everywhere?”
Cella glanced over at the twin She-foxes. They waved, identical bright grins on their pretty faces.
“As it is, I can’t get rid of this one.”
She pointed at Abby, who’d been hanging out at the Sports Center all day, begging food off people.
“I don’t know. No one follows me anywhere.” Cella shrugged. “I’m a cat. This sounds like a bear issue. Ask Crush, I think he’s getting coffee.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“But you’ll think about it, right? Maybe go to a few practices just to see?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Cella nodded and watched the girl walk off, stop, glare at the foxes now following her, along with Abby, walk, stop, glare. Assuming it would go on all the way down the hall, Cella walked into the locker room to change her clothes and clean out her stuff.
This had been a good way to end it all. A good way for her to move on. What did they call that? Closure or something? Whatever. It worked out well.
But as Cella came around the corner, she found Ric Van Holtz standing there, waiting for her.
“What’s up?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t here to give her some pathetic hug good-bye. Cella hated the hug good-bye unless it was from her kid or her father. Otherwise, it just annoyed.
“I’ve got your final player payout.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She took the manila envelope, opening the flap enough to look inside. She didn’t let her eyes bug out at the size of the check, but honestly, she wanted to.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. You earned it.”
“I’ll miss you guys,” she admitted, opening her locker for the last time.
“Yeah, about that ... I have a job offer.”
“I don’t need your pity job, Van Holtz. Thanks, but no—”
“For head coach.”
Cella froze, eyes wide. “What?”
“Eventually,” Van Holtz quickly added. “I mean ...” He took a breath. “Coach Reynolds is retiring in a year. We haven’t announced it to the team, but I’d already put out the word to a few agents I know and had gotten in some ré-sumés from a few interested parties, including the coach for the Alaskan Bears. And he was my first choice, really. I mean, he handles a team full of bears and two foxes. There’s gotta be skill there. But I’d forget him in a heartbeat if I could get you.”
Cella ran her hands through her still sweat-drenched hair and slowly faced the wolf. “You want me to be coach?”
“Assistant to start and when Reynolds retires ... head coach.”
Cella just had to ask, “Why?”
“There’s lots of reasons. I can sit here and rhapsodize about your skill on the ice, your ability to train and get the best out of the rookies, your amazing eye for talent ... I mean, I love Hannah, but I would have never thought of her for the team. But really, it comes down to one thing ...”
Cella couldn’t help but smile a little. “Novikov?”
“You handle Novikov and he
lets
you. That alone is worth its weight in gold. Because if you can handle that man, you can handle
anyone
.”
“That’s true. I can handle anyone.”
“And Novikov isn’t going anywhere. Blayne wants to stay in New York and whether he disgusts me or not, he loves her. So he’s not going anywhere. And even if I wanted to fire him, I can’t because he flippin’ wins.”

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