Page 15 of Glitz & Goals

In practice, I’m cranky because I can’t stop thinking about my mermaid. Not a single person in the building saw her, as far as I know, and I don’t want to get a reputation by wandering around asking if other people saw a mythical being stalking the halls of the arena. Butsomeonehas to know who she is. On the other hand, she didn’t give me her name. I should respect that, right?

I’m still glaring when Viktor Abbott skates over to me and digs the toe of his skate into the ice, coming to an abrupt halt. “Is there anything I can do to convince you to blow the whistle? I’ve never seen Beck so red.”

“I’ll blow the whistle when Beck pukes,” I tell Viktor, perhaps more peevishly than I would under ordinary circumstances.

Viktor bobs his head. “Right, and that’s fair. But I warned him not to eat before practice. Since that may never happen, is there anything else I can do?”

Keep skating,I almost say, but the words that come out of my mouth instead are, “Get me a date with a mermaid, and I’ll consider it.”

Unlike the maintenance guy I ran into yesterday, Viktor doesn’t seem concerned about my sanity. If anything, he looks delighted by my word choice. “A mermaid, you say. Did you have a specific mermaid in mind?”

I squint at him. “Doyou?”

“Me? No, no, just curious.” He leans on the railing, all cocky confidence, even though the rest of the team is still sweating their balls off running drills. “What kind of mermaid are you in the market for?”

“Blue hair, seashell tiara, one big… fin…” I trail off. Why am I talking with Viktor Abbott about this, of all people? “You know what, forget it.” I reach for my whistle and put the kids out of their misery by signaling an end to this round of drills. Viktor was right about Camden Beck. His face is as red as a hothouse tomato. That kid will have to work on fitness before the season starts, or he’ll be in big trouble.

“Do you want me to ask around? See if anyone has a lead on a mermaid?” Viktor asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“I want you back on the ice,” I gripe.

“But—”

“Now.” I give him my best coach face, and he lifts both hands and chuckles as he backs off. Dammit, this kid is cocky. I don’t want to give him ideas, and Icertainlydon’t want a troublemaker like him sticking his nose in my love life. Besides, he’s his father’s son, and the Abbott family has never helped improve my love life. Quite the opposite, in fact.

* * *

I’m on my way back to my office post-shower when it occurs to me that I still need to fill out those forms for Renee. My hand is on the door when it clicks for me: I ran into my mystery woman here, right near Renee’s door. What are the odds that Renee knows who she is? Surely, there’s a way I can gather some intel without making my interest too obvious.

Renee calls me in, and I step inside. “Oh, good, Grady.” She smiles and reaches for a folder. “Just the man I was hoping tosee. I’d love to get these forms to you digitally, but Dante has this thing about wet signatures.”

“Hey, Renee.” I settle in the chair across the desk from her and accept the papers she hands me. “I’ll get these filled out and have them back to you before I leave.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Okay…” The word lingers as if she wants to ask me why I’d bother sitting if I’m just going to take these forms and run.

“While I have you, do you mind if I run something by you?”

“Sure.” Renee steeples her fingers and gives me her full attention. I can’t quite get a read on her. She seems nice, but distant, although I guess a person’s got to have some good boundaries if they work for the likes of Dante Giovanetti. “What can I do for you?”

“I was thinking, with the new Venom mascot…” I drum my fingers on the desk, concocting my suggestion in real time. “A lot of our gear is more masculine. Maybe we could come up with a more feminine design. Sparkly, you know? I’m not a designer myself, but maybe you know someone who’s got a creative mind when it comes to clothing design.”

Renee lets out a bark of what sounds like genuine laughter. “That seems like it’s a little out of your lane, Coach.”

“Like I said, it’s just an idea…”

“Let me guess… you bailed out the mermaid with the wardrobe malfunction?” Renee shakes her head and leans back in her chair. “I wondered what happened to her.”

I throw caution to the winds. “Who is she, exactly?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Not even a name?” I know I sound desperate. I can’t help myself.

“I’m not in the business of sharing people’s personal info, Grady Metcalfe. I am notdoxxing a mermaid.”

That’s fair. The hope I felt earlier fades a bit. “If she asks about me…” I begin.

Renee sighs. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and tell you… that’s never going to happen.”

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