Page 2 of Ice Block

I sit up, excitement finally beating back some of my pity party.She’s right.I would love to start my own company. And why shouldn’t I? Sinking into my seat, I stare at the water-stained ceiling.Oh, only about a billion reasons. Finding clients. No longer having company-provided health insurance or being able to make a profit.Need I go on?My sweet, naive friend is currently dating Hayes Larson, the newest star of the Milwaukee Steel Riders NHL team, and this guy seems to be so far gone for Olivia he would buy her Lake Michigan if he could. My stomach churns and my heartsinks. The idea of money and unlimited funding may be a bit skewed in her mind at the moment.

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, but, unlike you, I am not dating a millionaire hockey player who will give me startup money for my dream of opening my own creative agency.”

“Hayes doesnotgive me money.”

“Trust me. You guys are endgame. And he’s loaded. I bet he buys you a yacht within six months.” I jolt up, excitement in my eyes. “If he does, can I live on it? Maybe then I can save my rent money to start my own company.”

Olivia laughs. “Sure, Mags. You can stay on the S.S. Olivia as a stowaway for as long as you want.”

My nose wrinkles. “On second thought, I know you and Hayes will just use it as your personal sex boat, so maybe I don’t want to stay on your fictional yacht.”

“Maggie! We are at work.” Olivia darts her eyes around, making sure no one heard me as her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “But, I mean…you’re not wrong.”

I laugh. “I love you, Liv. I’m so happy for you. Hayes is amazing! I’m excited to get to hang out with you guys and get to know him more tonight. I still can’t believe we lucked out and there’s no game scheduled. Do you know what players are coming?”

Olivia scrunches her brows. “No, Maggie, I don’t know which players, or more specifically which of thesingleplayers are coming. But please behave around Hayes’ teammates. I haven’t gotten to hang out with them yet, so don’t be hanging all over them like a spider monkey asking them to go out with you.”

“Olivia Marie Brooks. I wouldnever.” I slam my hand against my chest in mock outrage. “You must be mistaking me for someone else. I am always well-behaved; the epitome of grace, elegance, and chastity. I’m basically one of those debutants from Bridgerton.”

Olivia almost spits out her coffee with a laugh. “Yeah right.Maybe the sex part of Bridgerton, but I’m not sure the word dignified applies.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I say as we continue laughing. “You’re still picking me up tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up around six so we can get there, unload all the gift bags, and make sure the event company has everything set up correctly without feeling rushed. Hayes is coming later with his teammates.”

“Sounds good. I’ve had enough of this shitty day, so I’m gonna run home and start getting ready,” I say, packing my laptop into my work bag.

“Yeah, I’m headed out in a few too, just finishing up a couple more things,” she says, then pauses as she looks back to me, her brows slightly pulled together and I can feel the pity oozing from her face. “Mags, I’m so sorry. That campaign was awesome. We’ll drink tonight to celebrate how amazing your work was, with an extra to make up for how shitty this is.”

I smile and nod as I head out of the office. I wish I had the optimism in myself that Olivia has in me. I’ve always wanted to run my own business, but I’m not sure if I have what it takes. If I can hack it. What if I fail? What if I do have to live as a stowaway on a boat? How do I find the courage to take a leap not knowing if I’ll die when I finally jump off the cliff?

For now, it’s time to get dolled up and ready for this shindig.And hopefully drink my weight in bourbon and meet some hot Milwaukee Steel Riders.

2

vladi

“You wanted to see me, Coach?” I say, standing in the doorway to Coach Calhoun’s office after our morning conditioning.

“Yeah, Vladi, have a seat,” he says, not looking up from his desk. I crack my knuckles in frustration as I lower myself into the chair sitting up straight as a board. This is not a pep talk. We lost yesterday to the New Haven Midnight. I let in four goals. The sting still sits heavy in my gut as I stare at photographs of Riders’ through the years, smiling with arms raised as they celebrate a win. I’ve been in this league long enough to know where this is going.

“I wanted to let you know we’re going to give you a rest. We’re putting McKenzie in net next game. He needs to get some more games under his belt, so it’s good on all fronts.”

“Got it, Coach”

“You are still our starting goalie, Vladi.”

“Yep,” I curtly reply, keeping my anger at bay. I’ve heard those words a thousand times before.

“All good?” he asks, finally looking up from his papers.

“All good, Coach. Whatever is best for the team,” I lie through my teeth as I stand and leave the office.

This is bullshit.One fucking loss and I’m on the goddamn bench. McKenzie is my teammate, and we train together every day, but he’s still too green. He is a good guy, a little peppy for my taste, and too damn nice. Goalies aren’t nice, but he’s good in the net. His skills, however, are not as refined as mine. This is only his second year in the league, and I’m a veteran with ten years and my name on the Stanley Cup. I’ve been the starting goalie for the Milwaukee Steel Riders for a majority of my career—I don’t need to be replaced every time we lose a goddamn game.

Storming into the locker room, I throw my gear into my bag, more than ready to head home.“Chush' sobach'ya,”I mutter in Russian. I speak better English than most of my American teammates, but when I get pissed off, I lean into the comfort of my native tongue. They have no idea what I’m saying which makes it even better. I could be saying the bread is in the cupboard and they would still think I was cursing them out. However,chush' sobach'yaliterally meansthis is bullshit…nothing about bread. Bread iskhleb.

“You alright there, Vladi?” Hayes Larson, my friend who is like a brother to me, asks as he watches me slam my glove into my bag harder than I should.

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