Page 7 of Pucking Billionaire

“Did you say Tugev?” the 911 operator chirps excitedly. “Like the hockey player?”

Given the mention of a team, I presume yes—and tell her so.

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” she says breathlessly.

“Uh-huh. Are the EMTs on the way?”

Mason looks at me questioningly.

“Yes,” she says, and I give Mason a thumbs up, which he counters with a frown. “Talking to me doesn’t slow them down,” the operator continues. “So, please, tell me what Mason Tugev is like in real life?”

I roll my eyes. “Have you seen the film The Northman?”

“The one where Eric Northman is a Viking?”

It takes me a second to connect the dots. Eric Northman is a character on True Blood played by Alexander Skarsgård, who also plays the berserker in The Northman. “Yes,” I finally say. “Mason is as friendly as the hero of that movie.”

The real-world Mason scowls, proving my point.

“I haven’t seen that movie,” she says. “Is it good?”

I really hope the EMTs are not delayed by this. “If you like Vikings, it’s a must-see.”

“Is it about the invention of hockey?” She sounds confused.

Ah. Right. Hockey fan. “No. I doubt the Vikings invented anything apart from horrific ways to execute people. Though they did like to skate and ski.”

At this, Mason’s frown deepens.

“I think we’re getting a little off track,” I tell the 911 operator.

And by “off track,” I mean the train has grown rockets and is flying to the moon.

“Right,” she says sheepishly. “The EMTs will be there in five minutes.”

I hang up, just as Mr. Cohen returns with the AED thing, which I realize I’ve seen before, usually next to a fire extinguisher. I just didn’t know what it was.

“Open it,” the Viking—I mean, Mason—orders.

Mr. Cohen steps back. “I don’t feel comfortable using it on a client.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“I could get sued,” Mr. Cohen says.

“I’m not a lawyer,” Mason says over compressions, “but even I know that there are Good Samaritan laws on the books that protect those who try to help in these circumstances.”

Mr. Cohen takes another step back. “The laws you speak of don’t protect people as much as everyone thinks they do. I’ve handled many a case where someone did something grossly negligent, and that term is rather subjective.”

I bite my tongue. This is not the time to treat everyone to a philosophical treatise on whether or not we’re ethically obligated to help people in need.

Mason looks at me. “Do you have more balls than this coward?”

I nod, even though my heart is hammering. “What do I do?”

Mason sighs. “Open the fucking thing.”

I open the AED box, and automated voice prompts start telling me what to do. As instructed, I take out the sticky electrode pads and plug them in. Before I can attach them to the man’s body, Mason says, “You need to shave his skin first. There should be a razor in the back of the box.”

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