True enough, but she’s not most people. “I’m only letting this go because I don’t feel like hearing your father accuse us of holding him up. But you and I both know your headaches aren’t like others.”
Her eyes go to her shoes for a moment. “I know,” she murmurs.
I press a kiss to the top of her head and sigh into her hair. “Come on, Dimples.”
Once the hostess brings us to the table in the far corner of the main dining room, Emaly’s playful smile morphs into a serious expression that hides the very dimples for which she gets her nickname. It’s another reason why I hate her family. The carefree, beautiful woman whose laugh can light up a room is silenced in their presence. She’s an entirely different person with them than when she’s around me or Ronnie or any of our friends.
“It’s about time you two showed up,” Mikhail greets with a blank look on his face. He doesn’t bother standing up to shake my hand. Instead, I come to him with an extended palm to be as civil as possible.
Even though we’re not late, I say, “Sorry. Traffic was backed up. It took longer than normal to get here.”
Valeria stands to give her daughter a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “We are just happy you made it,” she tells Emaly, before turning to me and offering me a stiff hug that barely lasts a second.
Her mother is softer with Emaly but untrusting of me. Understandable. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s gone through a cheating scandal or two with her husband and finds herself feeling a little too sympathetic out of personal experience.
Mikhail hums. “We ordered drinks and appetizers already because we didn’t feel like waiting. We’ve been here for a while.”
Typical.
I force a smile. “Thank you.”
“I ordered you water,” he informs me pointedly. “I didn’t think alcohol was the best decision. It allows for too many bad choices. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.”
I have no doubt that’s in reference to my parents, who spent far more time with bottles of booze than they did with me. “I am,” I agree tightly. “Alcohol can make you do regretful things.”
My eyes dip to the scotch glass he’s holding on to, which I bet is his second one. Perhaps he blames the Macallan for his brilliant idea to start the Fairbanks Fireflies and hire me. Or possibly his mentality is to keep his friends close and enemies closer. He’s never been a huge fan of mine. He has, however, seen me as a good investment. I may not be the right person for his daughter, but he knows I’m the perfect man for his team.
That kind of skewed loyalty is all anybody needs to know about Mikhail Yokav and his priorities.
When he came to me with the offer to sign with his new team, I wanted to laugh and tell him to fuck right off. But when he brought up Emaly and made veiled threats to interrupt her life in California if I didn’t agree, I didn’t have much choice.
He knew Emaly was the perfect bargaining chip to get me to do what he wanted. He was willing to use his own damndaughter. So, I signed on the dotted line. But not before my agent made sure to get more money out of him. If I were his golden pawn, he was going to pay for it.
“Where did you get your dress, dear?” Valeria asks Emaly as soon as we sit down. Her nose twitches as she examines the burgundy color. “It’s a bit short, no?”
My jaw tics at the condescending tone. “It’s to her knees,” I reply before Emaly can. “Half of the women in here can’t say the same.”
My wife’s hand comes down on my knee under the table, squeezing it. I’m not sure if it’s in warning or appreciation, so I choose to change subjects.
I turn my focus to Mikhail. “I seem to be missing my emails with the training schedule. I’ve been keeping up with my conditioning on my own, but I know how important it is to train with the team. Clarkson said you’ve been having them come in twice a week at the stadium gym.”
Jesse Clarkson, the Fireflies’ captain and my former teammate in Pittsburgh, has been hounding me about when I’m coming in. What he doesn’t know is that I had no idea they were meeting. Which means Mikhail has been intentionally leaving me out of the loop. Needless to say, he’s still pissed about the latest scandal.
Mikhail studies me for a moment before sipping his drink. “Strange,” he says. “Perhaps it’s a system error. I’ll be sure to pass your concern on to IT, but it may take a few days.”
He’s playing a dangerous game to punish me, but we both know it’ll impact him as much as me if I’m not on the same page as the others.
“Clarkson also informed me that the head coach has been wondering where I am.” The mention of Bodhi Hoffman should be of no surprise to him. Formerly with the Rangers, Hoffman retired due to a recurring shoulder injury to coach this team instead. He, like myself and Jesse Clarkson, were personally selected to come play for the Fireflies. A powerhouse trio,according to ESPN, when the Fairbanks Fireflies were officially announced as part of the Eastern Conference.
Too bad they won’t see us in action if Mikhail-Fucking-Yokav doesn’t pull his head out of his ass soon.
I’ve known Bodhi for years as a rival and have only seen him a handful of times since he became the coach. It’s a strange dynamic change that’s only been made manageable because of Jesse Clarkson joining me as captain of the Fairbanks Fireflies. And by manageable, I mean, Clarkson is used to whooping my ass into shape when I act out. I basically came with my own babysitter.
Apparently, it’s not news that the head coach has been asking about me. I would be too if I were in Hoffman’s shoes. He can’t coach a team if the star players aren’t all present. And much to Yokav’s dismay, Iamone of the stars.
“We both want to make a mark on the NHL, right?” I ask Mikhail, ignoring the quiet side conversation happening between Emaly and her mother, which seems murmured and tense. “The only way to do that is by burying the hatchet and letting me train with them so I’m not behind. I’m doing what I can to make things right. I agreed to go to Starrs Strategy. I’m doing the events they lined up for me. I don’t go out anymore. I don’t party with anyone. I don’t drink—”
“I do not trust you,” he cuts me off matter-of-factly, lifting one of his broad shoulders.
