“Is it about the documentary, do you think?”
“Possible.”
Shane exhaled. “It’s probably nothing to worry about, right?”
“Probably not. But I like how worried you get.” Ilya bumped his shoulder against him affectionately.
“Whatever.”
Ilya leaned in for a kiss, and Shane dodged him. “No way. Not after you atethat.”
“Come on,” Ilya said, grinning as he leaned in again. “You can taste chocolate again.”
“No.”
In the end, Shane couldn’t resist kissing him. It was better than chocolate.
Chapter Sixteen
A few days later, Shane was sitting in a waiting area outside Crowell’s office. He had never been to the NHL’s headquarters in Manhattan before, and the sleek lobby that had greeted him when he’d stepped off the elevators, with its fortieth-floor view of the Hudson River, was impressive. And intimidating.
“Commissioner Crowell can see you now, Mr. Hollander,” said the receptionist.
Shane nodded at her without quite making eye contact. He found her intimidating too.
When Shane walked in, he was greeted warmly by Crowell. “Shane! Come in. Thank you for meeting with me. Short notice, I know.”
Roger Crowell was a tall man, solidly built, with thick silver hair and heavy eyebrows over calculating, pale blue eyes. He’d never been a hockey player, but he’d played football in college, back in the seventies, and he clearly still kept in shape. If he weren’t so fucking scary, Shane would say he was handsome.
“No problem,” Shane said as he shook Crowell’s offered hand. “The offices are nice.”
“You’ve never been here before?”
“No.”
Crowell’s face shifted into a confused expression that seemed a bit theatrical to Shane. “Is that so? I’m surprised to hear it. Well, welcome.”
“Thank you.”
Crowell gestured to one of the leather chairs facing his desk, and Shane perched on the edge of the seat. Crowell sat inhis own high-backed executive desk chair, leaning back in it comfortably. “Montreal’s had a great start to the season.”
“Yes. Not bad.”
“Always tough, defending a title,” Crowell said. As if he knew.
“It can be, yeah.”
“And how’s that charity doing? The one you started with Rozanov?”
“Good. We’ve been able to fund some very worthwhile organizations and initiatives.” Shane knew he sounded like he was reading directly from the Irina Foundation’s website, but he was too nervous to care. Where the hell was this conversation going?
“Glad to hear it. Your camps are doing good work too. Very...inclusive.”
“Yes. We try to make sure of that. It’s important to both of us.”
“That’s good. That’s good. We like to see that. Diversity is important.”
“It is,” Shane said cautiously.
