Page 1 of Body Shot

ONE

Anders

The annual pre-hockeyseason Lauderdale Knights beach party has become infamous.

It’s usually in early September, assuming we can stay ahead of the tricky South Florida weather, and it’s always a huge blowout. The team, along with coaches and support staff, all make an appearance, and last year’s shenanigans went late into the night.

I’ve just gotten back from my yearly trip home to Stockholm, so I’m still readjusting to the heat and humidity. It had been sixty degrees when I left Sweden. Today it’s already ninety-two and still going up.

I glance up at the cloudless sky suspiciously—it rains almost every day here in the summer. Even if it’s just for five minutes. Hopefully, that’s all it will be today since it’s only noon and the party is just getting started.

I plunk my beach bag and lounge chair down near a tree and set up the umbrella. With my light hair and fair skin, I’ll need abreak from the sun over the course of the day. No matter how much sunscreen I use, I burn.

It’s my Swedish blood, I guess.

Once the chair is ready, I head back to my Corvette to get the three cases of water that are my donation to the day’s festivities. There are already coolers set up near a group of picnic tables, and I drop the water down beside them, looking at our head trainer, Dani Petrov.

“These okay here?” I ask her.

She nods. “Sure. Thanks. Can you open one case and put it in there?” She points to an open cooler filled with ice.

“You got it.” I do as asked, and we make small talk for a minute before one of her kids demands her attention.

It’s still early. Most of the team isn’t here, and the ones who are, are helping to set up. There’s a volleyball net, beanbag toss, and frisbees, along with balls and water floatation tubes of all kinds.

As I’m helping, I can’t help but notice a woman off to the side. She’s in a lounge chair under a tree, big floppy hat on her head, with a book open in front of her. She seems oblivious to everything going on, and I look around, wondering who she’s with.

Our head coach, Anatoli Petrov, has arrived with his wife and four kids, so there’s a lot of commotion as everyone calls out to him. Yet the woman under the tree glances up, takes in the situation, and then simply goes back to her book looking completely uninterested.

Who the hell is she?

I know the guys that are here, and they’re all taken.

Jude LeBlance is with his wife Chloe.

Vaughn Elliott and his wife Juliet.

Wolf Bodilsen with his wife Scarlett and their daughter Naomi.

No one that’s here is single enough to have brought a date none of us know.

I pause, thoughtfully.

My buddy Johan said his sister might be coming to town.

Could this be her?

I’ve seen pictures of Hana and even with a hat and sunglasses, I don’t think this is her. But it could be prudent to find out since I’ve had a running joke with Johan about dating his sister. Hana lives in Slovakia, so that’s probably never going to happen, but it’s still fun to mess with him. And she really is beautiful.

“Hi.” I sink down on the sand next to the woman.

She glances up and smiles shyly. “Hello.”

She’s definitely not Hana, but she’s pretty.

“Not a fan of the beach or the chaos?” I ask.

She chuckles. “I love the beach. Less so any chaos, but that’s all right. I have a book and water.” She motions to an insulated tumbler beside her. “That’s all I need.”

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