Page 11 of Head Over Skates

The whirring of the Zamboni coming in through the gate reaches my ears, signaling intermission is almost over.

Emily cocks her head to the side, and I think for one split second, my heart pounds, thinking shewantsme to kiss her. But her eyes are giving off murdery vibes, and she lifts one dubious brow. “Well, I’d like to say it’s been fun but…”

Yeah, go ahead and dismiss me, little alley cat.

With a derisive sniff, I rake my eyes over her in one slow swoop, and much like my earlier attempt to intimidate, my body reacts just the opposite, because after all… I’m still a guy. And it strikes me here that she’s more beautiful up close now that I can make out the sunburst of color in her eyes, her delicate nose… the long, elegant column of her neck…

It freaks me the heck out. And in one of the most uncool moments in my life, I turn and run away. Well, I run as well as one can in skates.

I don’t talk to her again the rest of the night.

But all is not lost, because after the game, when I’m trying to slip out of the locker room, Nancy, the executive assistant to the Titan’s president, stops me to personally congratulate me on a good game. I really don’t think I deserve her praise tonight, but any time one of the execs takes notice, I let them say whatever they want, as long as it’s positive.

I thank her and say, “I’m a proud Titan, ma’am. Just promise never to trade me and I’ll play my best for Toronto.”

“Oh, I can assure you,” she says. “We have no intention of letting you go.”

“I appreciate that. I really do.”

I shake her hand and bow my head a little. I’ve come to learn it’s prudent to use my best manners whenever possible. A talent I never learned from my parents. But I picked up a few things along the way and learned quickly how far you can get with honey instead of vinegar.

Except when it comes tosomepeople—like Ms. Burk and that repulsive mom at the school. Or a certain Zamboni driver, who incidentally catches my eye just as I’m shaking Nancy’s hand.

Nancy turns to see where my attention wandered to, and when she sees Emily in the distance, her whole face smiles.

“Oh! I heard we had Emily Brooks in our employ, but I could hardly believe it. I understand she’s trying to keep a low profile these days.”

Utterly confused, I say, “What do you mean? Why would she need to keep a low profile?”

Other than her height, which I can’t imagine getting much lower.

“Well, ever since she left the Olympic team, that is.”

I blink. Emily the Zamboni driver is… an Olympian?

Noticing my furrowed brow, Nancy asks, “You didn’t recognize her? Her face was on cereal boxes.”

Not wishing to look like a complete dolt, I say, “Oh… yeah. She was a… skater, right?”

As good a guess as any.

Nancy sighs. “Would have won gold, too. Oh well.”

She shrugs it off and changes the subject, telling me she’s looking forward to the game against the Quebec City Nordiques and fully expects us to win the Canadian championship again this year.

“You can count on it, ma’am.”

She offers me a wink and is swept away by her entourage of executives and management staff, leaving me determined to step it up from here on out. Les Nordiques are a tough team to beat, and I know they have their sights set on that championship trophy. It’s not uncommon for the Canadian champions to go on to win the Stanley Cup, but even if they don’t, having that silver trophy on display here at the Blizzard Dome gives us braggingrights for a whole year. I have no intention of letting it go to Quebec City.

If we’re going to beat their asses next week, there’s no way in H-E-double hockey sticks I’ll sit through another game of panty-throwing women calling us preening pucks. Now that I know Emily’s secret, a plan is already forming in my head and I’m looking forward to the next opportunity to confront her.

5

EMILY

The ice beneath my skates is crisp and smooth, and as I push off, I feel the satisfying whoosh as I leave a trail of sparkly ice in my wake.

I have the rink all to myself this morning, since I decided I have just as much right to be here at this time of day as Owen does. In any case, I don’t expect him for another forty minutes, so I’m safe. But even if he does find me here using the rink before him, so what? I don’t seehimhere late at night resurfacing the ice after forty burly men carve into it for an hour and a half. And Owen certainly is burly, with broad shoulders and thick, strong legs. He’s basically a tree.

---