Her eyes met mine, and she shook her head. For no other reason, than to see if she’d drink it, I poured her another shot.
Krista snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Petrov. Focus.”
I pulled my attention away from Charlie and looked at Krista. “I was playing poker with a friend.”
“Which friend?”
“His name is Andrusha Sokolov, and I grew up with him. I almost never see him, but we get together and hang out once in a while.”
“And?” Her voice was impatient. Out of my peripheral, I could see Charlie lift her shot glass and toss it back. I don’t know why that impressed me, but it did.
“And his place of establishment got busted. I was sleeping off my hangover in his office when the police raided the place early yesterday morning.”
“For fuck’s sake, Mica.” Krista looked pissed. “Do I even want to know what kind of establishment he runs?”
For the first time in my life, I lied to Krista. “As far as I know, he runs a mineral oil shipping business. Anything else he does, I don’t know about.”
She looked around my place. “Well, apparently he’s doing something illegal.”
“The police held me overnight, probably to take the time to get a warrant for my place. They first warned me off my friend and then suggested I spy on him on behalf of the police force.”
“You mean, become a police informant?” Krista’s voice went up two notches.
“I told them to fuck off.”
“I don’t have to tell you that this is a fucking disaster. This is a PR nightmare. This is so bad, I can’t remember when, in the history of my career, a client was so far up shit creek as you are right now.”
I blinked at her. “Don’t sugarcoat this for me.”
She huffed. “Your image is in shreds. You were already hanging by a loose thread before last night, but this is cataclysmic.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and sat down on what remained of my couch. “My reputation wasn’t that bad.”
She ticked off the offending items on one hand. “The houseboat party last summer that got out of control and involved the coast guard. The crazy situation at that waterfront restaurant where one of your guests threw a table off the balcony. The prank you played on one of your teammates that resulted in your chartered flight being delayed and the entire team being late for a game.”
All true. All mostly not my fault. I liked to party, but it usually wasn’t me who got too wild. It was my crazy-ass friends. “I thought that was all forgiven.”
She pinned me with another one of her looks. “Ashford may have forgiven you, but he never forgets. You’re damn lucky you’re so talented on the ice, but this situation will make the houseboat incident look insignificant.”
I felt like throwing up. I leaned my head back and shut my eyes. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’m thinking.” The shrill sound of her cell echoed through the room. “It’s Mark Ashford. Don’t fucking move.”
I listened to the sound of her heels disappear out the front door.
Chapter 3
CHARLIE
I stood next to the island, feeling buzzed from the two shots Mica had poured me. I couldn’t believe his response. He seemed indifferent to the fact that his house had been shredded and destroyed.
“How mad is Mark Ashford?” His deep voice sounded rough. My eyes flew to his face, but he remained on the couch with his head leaning back and his eyes shut.
“He’s pissed.”
“I bet.”
“Aren’t you upset?” I looked around the room, still in disbelief at the state it was in.
“What’s the point?”
I didn’t understand this man. He seemed so calm and emotionless. “Don’t you care?”
Those blue eyes opened and studied my face. “I care.”
“You don’t seem like you care.”
He shut his eyes again. “How pissed is Krista?”
I chose my words carefully. “She’s concerned. About you and your career.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
He opened his eyes again, studying me. “Where are you with all of this?”
I raised my eyebrows. “I saw how beautiful your place was. I feel angry that someone would destroy it.”
That mouth curled into a smile. “It’s just stuff, Baby Krista.”
I looked around. It was more than stuff. This was his home. I’d seen how much care and thought he had put into making this place beautiful. I couldn’t believe how calm he was, how easily he seemed to accept what had happened.
Krista strode back in, speaking loudly. “That was Mark. You are definitely getting suspended.”
Mica lifted his head, and for the first time since we’d arrived, true emotion flashed in his eyes. “On what grounds?”
“Unacceptable off-ice conduct.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Now what?”
“Mark said he’d give you another shot if you got in line with the values that this team believes in.”
“Done.”
She paused and took a deep breath. “The only reason he agreed to suspend you and not trade you is because I told him you were engaged to get married.”
“What?” Mica froze, his blue eyes widened with stunned shock. I, too, swung my head around to look at Krista, trying to assess if she was serious.
Fire sparked in her eyes, showing the level of her determination. “I told him you were secretly engaged to a nice girl. Someone who has good values, never gets into trouble and is a good influence on you. I asked him to give you another chance. He’s willing to do so, but only if you get married and settle down.”
Holy crap. Was she serious?
He glared at her. “Who the fuck am I supposed to marry, Krista?”
She lifted her chin. “I haven’t got that far yet.”
He shook his head and looked between her and me. “I can’t get married.”
“Why the hell not?”
He struggled to find his words. “Because I don’t want to.”
“Your days of playing the field are over, Petrov. This season you will walk the straight and narrow, and that includes losing your precious puck bunnies.”
He sat forward and pierced her with a look. “It’s not about other women. I don’t believe in marriage.”
Krista crossed her arms. “You need to get it through your thick skull that this is no longer about damage control. This is about doing a freaking Hail Mary to save your career.”
He gritted his teeth and his nostrils flared. “I will do whatever you ask, but I am not getting married.”
“You do not understand how thin a thread your career is hanging by. When Ashford found out you were engaged, he dialed back from trading you to giving you another shot. This is your only option.”
His blue eyes flashed with raw emotion. The guy was working overtime to keep himself in check.
Krista put a hand on one hip. “We’re heading back to the office to sort this out. Take some time to think about what you want. If you want to save your career, then get cleaned up and get your ass down to my office so we can get to work.”
She motioned to me with her head to follow her outside. I glanced back at Mica. He was leaning back on the couch and his hands were over his face. I scuttled after Krista.
In the car, I looked over at her with awe in my voice. “Are you really going to make him marry someone?”
Her voice hardened. “Mica is so close to getting traded, he’ll be lucky if he ever wears a Wolves jersey again.”
I couldn’t believe this was her plan. Who even came up with something like this? “But marriage? How are you going to find someone to marry him?”
She threw me a glance. “That will not be the issue.”
It won’t? “What will be the issue?”
“Finding someone to marry him who won’t be interested in turning it into a real marriage.”
The thought of Mica being
in a real marriage felt like a hot and dark knife slicing through my insides. I think I hated this plan as much as he did. “The guy seems dead set against marriage.”
“Mica has a complicated past.”
What does that mean? My head whipped around at Krista, but she bent her head over her phone, ending the conversation.
* * *
Back at the office, Krista got to work. She had me prepare the boardroom like a war room and then search various names from her list. I found photos of the candidates on social media and posted them on the board. I did an extensive internet search on all of them, looking for any red flags, before she sent their names to her PI for vetting.
“How does this even work?” I bit into my sandwich, looking up at the board filled with photos of beautiful women.
Krista stirred her salad. “I don’t know. I’m making it up as I go along.”
This is why Krista was the queen. The woman was fearless.
“Do you think this will save Mica?”
She looked around the room. “Mark Ashford loves Mica. He knows that Mica is one of the strongest defensemen in the league and so despite Mica’s antics, Mark wants him to stay. He wanted a reason to keep him. I know that Mark’s strongest values are community, charity work and family. When I told him that Mica was engaged, he backed off talking about trading him. I gave Mark a reason to keep Mica, and he jumped in with both feet.”
I studied the photos of Mica’s potential brides, secretly hating every one of them. “How are you going to get someone to marry him?”
“Money. Lots of freaking money.”
That had my full attention. I worked to sound super casual. “How much money?”
“I think we’ll start at one hundred thousand for a year. And work our way up from there.”
I almost choked. “You will pay someone that much money to marry Mica?”
“Technically, he’ll do the paying.”
“This is a platonic marriage, right?”
“She will have to move in with him and act the part of a loving wife in public, but behind the scenes, she’ll be a glorified roommate.”
Mica wasn’t the only one with secrets. My secret was that I owed someone a lot of money. I muttered, “For that kind of money, I’d marry him.”
Her head whipped around. “Seriously?”
Joking! “I was being facetious.”
She zoomed that laser focus on me. “You’d be a perfect candidate.”
I waved my sandwich around. “I work here, remember? Probably not a good idea.”
She bent over her folder and wrote something down. “Yes, but we need to find someone like you.”
“Like me? What does that mean?”
“You’re the opposite of a WAG and a puck bunny.”
“You mean, my life’s focus isn’t to hunt down a professional athlete so he can provide for me?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
Her phone rang, and she disappeared out the door. Suddenly Mica filled the doorway of the boardroom. His eyes took in the faces on the board before they settled on me. I studied him back. A faint haunted expression marred his face.
“Krista’s on the phone.”
“I saw that.”
I played with the crust of my sandwich, unable to eat in front of him. “So, you’re going through with it.”
“Do I have a choice?”
I tried to put a positive spin on it. “It might not be that bad.”
He responded by blinking at me.
I tried again. “It’s only a year. Actually, just until the end of the season, so not even a year. Technically, you only need to keep the charade going until they renew your contract.”
His eyes lifted to the photos of his potential brides. “I don’t want to get married.”
“You mentioned that.”
My phone buzzed, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the name.
Yazimoto: We need our monthly payment tonight. $5000
Holy shit. When would this pain end? I quickly checked my bank account. I had $5200 in my account after paying rent. Which left me exactly $200 until my next paycheck to put gas in my car and eat.
For the hundredth time, I cursed my brother for his reckless and stupid behavior. Now I was on the hook for his debt, and no matter how hard I worked or how many payments I made, I never seemed to make headway.
Me: I’m working at Dewey’s Pub tonight
Yazimoto: I will send someone to pick it up at midnight.
I put the phone down on the table, feeling more than defeated. No matter how hard I worked or how much I scrimped, this debt was unending.
“Everything okay?” Mica watched me.
“Nothing to do with your situation.”
Krista bustled back into the room. “Okay, glad you’re here. Let’s get to work.”
* * *
Me: How is it going?
Jasper: Same old, cutie. You?
Me: Work is crazy. Mica screwed up and now he has to get married!
Jasper: What? To whom?
Me: We’re looking for a bride for him. Don’t tell anyone.
Jasper: Lips are sealed. What did he do?
Me: Long story.
Jasper: Are you sad your boy toy is getting married?
I hated the idea of him marrying someone.
Me: He’s not my boy toy!
Jasper: :-P
Me: He’s not happy.
Jasper: Call me tonight. I want details!
Me: I work late.
Jasper: Okay, call me tomorrow.
Me: Okay, later.
Jasper: xo
* * *
It was past 1:00 a.m. and there was no sign that the Thursday night rush at Dewey’s would let up soon. I was working on fumes and it felt like I was wearing cement boots.
I was wiping down a table when I caught sight of Mica. He was standing at a tall table with three other players and he didn’t look happy. Probably because he had missed out on playing tonight’s game because of his suspension. Or maybe because he had lost the fight to Krista and conceded to getting fake-married. He faced a long year living with an unwanted roommate, while outwardly portraying to the world that he was knee-deep in domestic bliss. It was not a situation I envied.
Our eyes met across the room at the same moment someone roughly grabbed my arm.
“Watch it.” I wrenched my arm free. The owner of the arm didn’t belong in the bar. Maybe it was his scary neck tattoos or his black leather vest, but he wasn’t an average patron.
“You Charlie?”
“Yes.”
“Yazimoto sent me.”
My heart sank. “Meet me out back. I have to go grab the money.”
He did the creepy eye fuck thing where his eyes lingered on my chest before he nodded and disappeared into the crowd. I swallowed hard. Usually, the guy who came to pick up the money was a short bald dude who was discreet, if not professional. This guy scared me.
I glanced back at Mica, who was still watching me.
Yep, we all have troubles, buddy.
I grabbed the money from my locker before walking through the kitchen and out into the cool September air.
The guy was leaning against the wall, smoking a joint. “Yazimoto never told me you were hot.”
I ignored him and shoved the envelope at him. “It’s all there. You can count it.”
He looked at me while suggestively licking his thumb before he slowly began to count the hundred-dollar bills. “What else are you promised for?”
“Excuse me?”
“Picking up money from a hot bitch like you should come with some perks.”
“Not an option.” I turned to go back inside.
He grabbed my arm and swung me around, pinning me against the wall. “I think tonight, it’s gonna be an option.”
Fear clouded my vision as his stinky breath blew in my face. This was not happening to me. My mind raced as I tried to think my way out of this situation. If I screamed, no
one would hear me over the music in the bar. I could make a break for it, but I doubted I could outrun this animal. I needed to talk my way out of this situation.
“I have an STD.”
“Which one?”
I wracked my brain, trying to think of the worst one. “Gonorrhea?”
He smiled. “Funny, me too.”
Oh gross. Plan B. If he touched me, I would fight him to the death. So it baffled me that when he drew his nicotine-stained fingers down the side of my cheek, I could only stand there, focused on bringing air in and out of my lungs.
I whimpered when his fingers grabbed my crotch through my jeans. Pure adrenaline made me push against him, but he shoved me back against the wall with strength.
“Get off me.” My fight-or-flight kicked in and my arms flailed. My fist connected with his jaw. I froze. I’d never hit anyone before.
He cracked his neck. “You’re going to pay for that, bitch.”
I heard the back door slam open. Without looking away from my face, the creep said in a menacing tone, “We’re busy here.”
A familiar Russian voice spoke, sounding bored. “Let her go.”
I felt so much relief when my gaze landed on Mica. His face, all harsh angles in the dim light, looked menacing. Why had he come out here? Had he followed me out here?
My captor stepped back from me, a sick smile on his face. “Oh look. Your pretty boyfriend is coming to the rescue. If you like his face, tell him to go back inside.”
Visions of Mica being stabbed or shot clouded my brain. My heart raced with fear on his behalf. I couldn’t willingly let Mica get hurt or killed. “He’s right. Please do what he says.”
Mica ignored me and stepped closer to Yazimoto’s thug, towering over him by inches. “I want to hit something but I’m a reasonable guy. Walk away.”
The guy laughed. “I told you to fuck off.”
Mica swung, connecting with the dude’s face, and then, in slow motion, just like in the movies, the bad guy crumpled to the ground.
I hyperventilated while leaning against the wall. Mostly because my trembling legs were doing a shit job holding me up. “Is he dead?”
“Nah.”
The Penalty Box: A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Page 3