Page 21 of Gamechanger

I laughed and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server. "And I'm to believe an aging Russian is the model of sobriety?

His eyes twinkled. He leaned in close, his breath smelling of peppermint and vodka. "You know, back home, this party would just be getting started. It would be about time for the arm wrestling match."

"Arm wrestling? Do you do that before or after you ride the bears?"

Sergei's eyes narrowed briefly in mock offense before he laughed. "I like you, Moose. You don't take shit from me. Instead, you throw it back." He clapped me on the shoulder, and the force nearly made me spill my champagne. "So, how are you settling in? This isn't the same as tree-hugging in the forest."

His concern was almost like a bear hug. "It's an adjustment, but I'm learning. You guys aren't so bad, and I don't have to try the latest scary seaweed snacks and insect bars."

"Eh, we're okay." Sergei shrugged. "Remember, in hockey, like in your lifetime, keep your head up and your stick on the ice."

I nodded and then rubbed my chin; I was not quite sure what he was getting at, but I appreciated his attempt to share a nugget of wisdom. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

Sergei waved a hand toward one side of the room. "Don't let me keep you. I think someone is waiting to talk to you."

I turned and saw Finn glancing at me. He quickly averted his eyes when he spotted me looking back.

"Go on," Sergei insisted. "Life's too short for maybes."

I'd barely moved, maybe three steps toward Finn, when a hand touched my elbow. "Moose, can you take a moment?" It was Dr.Chen, the team's psychologist, with her glasses halfway down the bridge of her nose.

I did my best not to let my disappointment show. "Sure, Doc. Is there something on your mind?" I snickered lightly, and she followed suit.

"I wanted to speak with you before you got swept into the festive activities. Can we step aside for a moment?"

I followed her to a quieter part of the ballroom, the laughter and clinking glasses muffled by a thick fabric curtain. She studied my expression.

"How are you adjusting to your new position?" She pushed her glasses back up her nose. "You've changed your career path dramatically, and I wondered how you're handling it."

I was a little caught off guard. "It is different. Sometimes, I feel like I'm running to catch up, learning both the hockey jargon and the marketing lingo. Still, it's a fun challenge. The people here are great."

"And the charity drive. How did that go?"

I was grateful to switch away from personal matters. "We're off to a strong start. The protein bar promo is doing particularly well. We'll have much to give to our supported causes."

"That's all great. I've heard a few interesting comments about the taste of those bars."

I grinned. "Well, hey, we never promised that saving the planet was delicious."

"Indeed." Dr. Chen chuckled softly. "Keep up the good work, and remember, it's okay to let your guard down sometimes. You might be surprised by the depth of support you have here."

After the good doctor turned to move on, I thought I might finally get to say hi to Finn, but I was wrong. Coach Fraser stepped up to me. He looked smart and sharp in his suit. "Moretti, I'm glad to see you mingling. I've heard good comments so far."

"Thank you for that. It's been like getting caught up in a whirlwind so far, but I've loved every minute of it.

He sipped at a glass of punch, and I wondered whether Sergei spiked it with Russian vodka. "Good man. It's always good to bring in people with fresh perspectives."

We chatted a bit about the community outreach projects. While he spoke, I glanced beyond his shoulder to see Finn moving to the massive dessert table. He was eyeing an elaborate gingerbread hockey rink.

When Coach Fraser gave me an opening, I excused myself and headed toward Finn. He tried to stick a fingertip into the frosting surreptitiously.

"Hey, I hear that's not on the team's approved diet list."

Finn nearly jumped out of his skin, but he smiled when he realized it was me. "What makes you think I was planning to eat it? I'm admiring the craftsmanship."

"It is quite a creation, but I don't know if I can vouch for the sturdiness of those gingerbread boards. One hard slam, and they might crumble."

He quickly stuck a frosting-coated finger in his mouth. "One little taste won't hurt me." A tiny, sugary dollop clung to his lower lip when he pulled the finger back. I fought back my desire to taste it with my lips.

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