Page 72 of The Big Puck

LAINEY

The Whalers are back from a three-game road trip, and I’m sitting with Tina in our prime seats near the home team bench. I’m trying not to stare at Spence. But it’s hard since he’s softened up—witness the thoughtful birthday gift and a handful of smiles lately.

He even broke down and arranged for me to have this seat near the bench for the entire season, though Tina’s goading and threat to arrange it herself may have influenced him.

“Last week when I said I was having dinner with my dad, I was out with Jason.” She watches me for a reaction.

I grant her my giddiest smile and grab her hand. “How did it go?”

“He’s sweet. He makes me laugh. Not too bad in bed either.” She smiles like she’d jump back in with a snap of his fingers.

“Please do not share those details,” I say with a laugh, but I mean it.

“I’m keeping the whole thing quiet. I don’t want Dad to know I’m seeing him.”

“Why not? I thought he encouraged you to date Jason?”

“I don’t want Jason to feel uncomfortable with his teammates, so I’m pretending to date a guy from accounting.”

“You’re a schemer, Tina Gavonza.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please don’t remind me. I’m a chip off the old block after all, right?”

“Up to a point. You have a genuine heart and authentic honesty, and I like that about you. No hidden agenda—except when you’re scheming to outwit your dad, of course.”

She laughs.

Windy makes a save, barely, and holds onto the puck for a faceoff in front of our net.

“I’m kind of worried about Dad—or more like concerned,” she says, and I take my eye off the game to pay attention. “He’s been anxious about the team, and something’s not right. He’s not taking calls even though his cell phone still rings off the hook.”

“What makes you suspicious about missed calls? Maybe he wants to be present when he’s with you.” Okay, this spin is a stretch, even for me. But it’s possible, isn’t it?

“I have reasons. Believe me. I spent some time in accounting with Willie, and when I realized how much money was involved in operating the team and how much they paid for it, I wondered where the hell Dad got the money to be a majority owner. Willie says he’s never seen the corporate agreements, the NHL contract, or ownership documents. I figure Dad has them stashed somewhere in his office. I’d love to get my hands on them.”

I imagine my eyes enlarge to the size of pizza pies as I look at Tina. “W-What? Why?”

“Because I know something is wrong with this picture.”

“You could ask your dad about it.”

“Not a chance. If he bothered answering me, he’d make up some fairytale. I swear he thinks of me as if I’m still twelve years old—the last time I saw him, until this year, when he bought the team.” She pauses and gives me a scheming look. “I think an after-hours visit to my dad’s office is in order to find out what’s going on.” She bites her lip and looks down.

“Sounds drastic.”

“Call it self-preservation. If something is wrong, I want to know about it before things blow up—because it will. According to Mom, Dad has a pattern of going into shady business deals that end up blowing up.”

I blow out a breath, and my nerves bubble up because I think she’s right. I’ve always thought something is drastically wrong with the way Gavonza runs the team based on his attitude toward Spence alone. I square my shoulders. “Are you going to ask your guy from accounting to help you?”

“Fuck no.” She claps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I hardly know him and certainly don’t trust him.”

“Then…” I trail off because she’s giving me a part-enthusiastic, part-imploring look, and I know what she’s thinking.

“You want me to go with you—to break into your dad’s office?”

“Hell, yeah. What do you say?”

My first instinct is to run with it, to jump in full tilt, but only because I don’t like how her dad treats Spence, and I want to help him keep his job.