Jagged Edges

by Denise Bower

  I resisted the urge to flip him off by grinding my teeth together and almost shouting, “I don’t do anything quietly.”

  I had hoped the captain would be an ally, but it seemed he wanted to be an enemy. Or maybe he was just a fucking jerk.

  “Good grief, you guys are worse than a beginning Learn to Skate class,” I snapped. “I thought you were all professionals.”

  My statement quieted everyone until Hank came into the room, pulling a cart filled with yoga equipment. He wove his way around all the guys, handing out mats as he went. The players regarded their mats with disdain. They looked like I had suggested they do a bag skate. I had to force myself to think about the dancing bear costume waiting for me if I failed.

  “I’m sorry. We don’t have any balls,” Hank said to me.

  The entire room burst out laughing, and once again, I’d lost control of the situation.

  “How’d you lose your balls, Hank,” someone yelled. “She cut ’em off?”

  “My balls are just fine,” Hank yelled, although he and most of the other guys were protectively covering their crotches. The room filled with loud laughter and more comments about balls than I ever wanted to hear. I wondered if there was a way to start the day over.

  “Oh my god! Shut up,” I shouted.

  I unfurled my mat while instructing the players to do the same. This was going to be a long morning and might turn into the biggest mistake of my life.

  “Dancing bear,” I muttered.

  The team finally settled down so we could get started. As I taught them poses, I continued to list the benefits of learning yoga. I also tried not to laugh as they struggled with balance and sustaining each pose.

  “It has a calming effect on the mind and the body,” I said.

  The entire room erupted again.

  “Fuck that! I have a cramp in my calf. God, someone rub it for me!”

  “My leg is not supposed to bend this direction. I am the opposite of calm.”

  “Either my jockstrap snapped or I broke a tendon.”

  Listening to their bitching was testing my patience, which was already worn thin from meeting with my dad.

  “Calm isn’t going to help me in the middle of a game,” Matt Holm said. I recognized him as one of the newly named assistant captains on the team. “Why would I want to be calm when I’m playing hockey?”

  If my patience was a rubber band, it would’ve snapped and hit him in the face.

  “Pretty sure you could use a little calm in your game since all you seem to do is get thrown in the penalty box,” I said to him. “You’ve been bounced around from team to team, and for the past two years, you’ve been leading the league in penalty minutes. Not something to be proud of when your last three teams ended the season sitting in the cellar.”

  His mouth fell open, and a few of the guys stifled snorts. Matt returned to his spot and frowned. I shrugged and continued the workout because he couldn’t dispute the facts.

  We made it through forty minutes of stretching and posing. I usually did at least an hour, but the players looked like they were ready to expire. They probably used as much energy whining as exercising.

  “Now that everyone is warmed up, let’s work on our core.”

  “Core?” A bunch of players repeated with a hint of fear in their voices.

  We spent the next hour doing one of the simpler workouts Leo had designed for Viktor and me when we were amping up for competition.

  When I finally told the guys to stop, they collapsed in sweaty heaps on the floor. Most were gasping for air or searching for towels to wipe the sweat dripping from their bodies. Several were rubbing sore muscles, complaining about not being able to walk, much less skate. I relished the thought I had been the cause of their pain.

  “See you all tomorrow,” I said as they filed out of the room. My announcement was followed by another round of loud moans.

  Cameron stopped and shoved his sweaty towel into my hands. I immediately dropped it on the ground and swallowed down a pile of disgust.

  “You sure you want to come back tomorrow?” he asked.

  “You sure you want to?” I shot back.

  He paused and looked stunned I had challenged him.

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek before I spat out what I was thinking. “I thought you were brought to this team to teach the younger guys how to play the game, to respect the game, to learn how to survive the game. So far all you’re teaching them is how to whine.”

  I scooped his disgusting towel off the ground and tossed it in his face. He swore at me, and I heard several players, who had witnessed our exchange, whispering frantically amongst themselves. Matt stepped between the captain and me. Cameron was about to say something else, but I dismissed him with a wave and stomped to the opposite end of the room to stack the discarded yoga mats.

  Though I was seething mad, I managed to check out a few of the players so I would have something to relay to Sawyer, instead of shouting in his ear about how much I despised the guys. It wasn’t a proud moment in my life, but I felt like I’d earned the right to take a peek for putting up with all their shit.

  Not one of them quite reached the physical prowess and hotness of Carter Murphy, but some came close. I had no idea why Carter suddenly popped into my mind to use as a measuring stick for the perfect hockey body. I snickered because I had apparently turned into a teenager with a roaring libido. Sawyer would be pleased.

  When the guys had all disappeared and I’d cleaned up the room, I gathered my things and headed toward the ice to report to Johan. He wasn’t going to like what I had to say about his band of players. They needed a lot of work to reach prime physical condition, along with a freaking attitude adjustment.

  “Hey. Hi. Ms. Campbell. Er, Victoria! Wait up,” someone shouted at me. I wanted to break into a run because I didn’t know if I could listen to more whining without shouting at the guy. But maybe telling him off would make me feel better.

  “Listen, if you have any complaints or if your anatomy is injured, direct it to someone else. I don’t want to hear it,” I said, turning abruptly to face him.

  He grinned, showing off a perfect set of bright white teeth. I immediately felt guilty for snapping at him. The kid didn’t look like he was old enough to drive.

  “Oh, no. I enjoyed the workout. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how the guys were acting today.” He fidgeted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Since the last guy quit, management left conditioning to the captains, and they’ve been a little lax.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for them. I get it. They don’t want me here,” I said.

  “They don’t know what they want,” he said.

  “Do you know what you want?”

  “The only thing I’ve dreamed about since I was a little kid. I want to make it to the NHL, and I think you can get me there. You have an Olympic medal. None of the guys here can claim that honor. Most of them haven’t even spent time in the NHL, and the majority won’t make it. I know how good you are, and I understand the work it takes to be a world-class athlete. I’m hoping to learn from you.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “Of course I do, and if you told everyone else your credentials, they might be easier on you.”

  “I didn’t think it would be necessary. Besides they’ll find out soon enough,” I said, eyeing him.

  “Not from me. I won’t say anything. Um, the reason I stopped you was to ask if you’d be willing to sign something for my little sister. She’s a skater too, and you’re her favorite.” His face turned a lovely shade of red. “I’m Alex, by the way.”

  “I thought your name was Tommy?”

  “My last name is Tomkins. The guys think it’s funny to call me Tommy or Tommo.”

  “I can’t keep track of who’s who. Everyone seems to have three or four names,” I grumbled.

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” Alex said.

  “What sort of deal? Because if you’re going to give me poi
nters on remembering everyone’s name, you can forget it.”

  “No…. Uh, no.” His face fell and I felt terrible for acting like a jerk toward him.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day and it’s barely started. Dealing with guys like your illustrious captain make me want to punch someone. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like punching anybody, except maybe Viktor. I don’t usually condone violence, and I don’t even know how to throw a punch. Hockey players make me crazy.” I buried my face in my hands, hoping that if I couldn’t see Alex, he would disappear.

  “I think I can get the guys to cooperate if you’ll give me an autograph⁠—”

  I immediately interrupted him. “Um, no offense, but aren’t you a rookie?”

  “Well, yeah, but I can handle it. I’m very charming. And all it will cost you is an autograph and, ya know, maybe a free lesson for my sister. Shelby’s having some problems with her jumps, and her coach is a young woman who’s more interested in talking to her boyfriend than helping Shelby. I’m searching for a new coach, but I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Jeesh, you’re bold,” I said. “And seriously, I don’t know if I’m ready to be a coach for a kid.”

  “It’s just one lesson,” he said. “I’m not asking for a commitment.”

  “Fine, but only on the condition that you get the guys to cooperate tomorrow. If you’re successful, I’ll give you an autograph, but the free lesson hinges on if I get the job,” I said. “If everyone is still acting like a douche, though, the deal is off.”

  “You’ll get the job.” Alex smiled brightly and vigorously shook my hand before racing down the hall. His happiness and optimism were infectious, but the moment he disappeared from my sight, the uncertainty and anger came back with a vengeance. I sighed and continued my search for Johan. I almost ran into him when he came out of his office, swearing loudly.

  “Victoria,” Johan said. “I’m not going to ask how it went because I’ve heard enough complaining to last me for months.”

  I stood still, waiting for him to tell me the deal was off and the team was going to look at another applicant. When he said nothing, I took the lead.

  “I’d like to watch a practice,” I said.

  “Your reason?”

  “To assess the players’ skating ability,” I said. “Most guys had horrible balance during our yoga session, and balance on the ice is essential. If they have problems on dry land, it’s going to translate to how they skate.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll shoot you our practice schedule. We have our first game on Friday, so I’ll make sure you have all the credentials.”

  I nodded and resisted the urge to ask him if that meant I was officially part of the team.

  “See you tomorrow, unless you want to stay for practice today,” Johan said. “And you’re welcome to join the team on the ice any time.”

  “No, I’ve had enough for the day. I need to prepare my session for tomorrow. I’m going to tailor the plan for the players who are not in great shape. I don’t want to kill any of them before the season begins.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t have a lot of time with the players. Trying to find a suitable conditioning coach has been a nightmare.”

  “I guess it’s lucky for me you haven’t found anyone,” I said.

  He shook my hand and stalked down the tunnel. The sound of pucks bouncing off the boards rang through the air.

  On the drive to my hotel, I contemplated heading for the freeway and racing back to California to re-evaluate my current choice. When I pulled into the parking lot, it took a few rounds of breathing exercises before I forced myself to get out of the car. The guy at the front desk asked me if I was okay. I sighed and mustered a smile before marching down the hall to find my room.

  After a long, hot shower, I felt marginally better. I flopped on the bed and closed my eyes, trying to decide if I should go to sleep, but my stomach growled loudly. Moments like these made me miss my kitchen and Leo’s wife, Anna, who would cook lunch and dinner when we were neck-deep in training. But Anna wasn’t here, so it was up to me to find my own food.

  I slid open the dark blue curtains and peered out the window. Across the road I spotted a small grocery store, so I grabbed my purse, room card, and coat and trudged off to go get something to eat.

  Falling leaves swirled through the air with each blast of wind, and I quickly buttoned my coat, clutching it tightly to shield my skin from the cold air. The changing of the seasons had always excited me, but today I didn’t know what I felt. The coming of winter had always meant the skating season was upon me, but this year there was no skating, only hockey players intent on driving me away.

  After my short shopping excursion, I sat down at the desk in my room to eat my salad and lukewarm soup. I poked at the limp lettuce leaves and decided to call Sawyer. I needed to hear a cheerful voice before I spiraled into a depression I couldn’t get away from.

  “I didn’t want to eat dinner alone,” I said.

  “You sound … the opposite of happy.”

  “I feel the opposite of happy.”

  “Fine. Let me pour a cup of coffee. It’s been a long day for me too.”

  “The hockey players were dicks,” I said.

  “And that surprised you?”

  “I thought they’d be more professional. The captain was the worst. And he’s a veteran. I yelled a lot and wanted to hit things.”

  “Were they at least hot?”

  “Banging backsides and some lovely abs,” I said and laughed. “Too bad they didn’t have personalities to match.”

  “Sometimes personalities are overrated,” he said.

  “One player was sweet. He’s this rookie who looks like he’s twelve. He thinks he’s going to get the guys to cooperate.”

  “And what does he want from you?”

  “An autograph and a free lesson for his sister.”

  “Did you agree?”

  “Yeah, but with the stipulation that he has to corral the douchebags, and the lesson depends on if I get the job.”

  “He just asked and you said yes?” Sawyer sounded surprised.

  “Call it a moment of weakness. He used puppy dog eyes on me. He seems like a nice kid. And he was so happy. Made me want to take a shower and wash just in case it was contagious. I’d like to stay mad for several more weeks.”

  Sawyer snorted and told me about his day on the ice. In the middle of our conversation, he slipped and mentioned Viktor, then spent the next fifteen minutes apologizing to me and calling Viktor names.

  “It’s okay, Soy. I haven’t even had time to think about him.” The statement was an outright lie. “He’s a skater. You’re a choreographer. Your paths will cross.”

  “I know, but I’m still sorry. I can sew you a voodoo doll in his likeness so you can stick pins in it.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe you should make an entire hockey team. I miss you.”

  “You too, doll,” he said quietly.

  “I have to be at the rink early, and I need a new plan of attack. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Channel your anger into something positive,” he said.

  “Right.”

  “Bye,” he murmured.

  That night I dreamed about Viktor. We were on the ice, but his attention was directed toward the stands filled with women. In the middle of a lift, he dropped me on my butt and skated off with a blonde. The only good part of the dream was when Carter Murphy showed up and checked Viktor so hard he flew into the penalty box. I slammed the door and gave him a game misconduct for being an asshole.

  The morning began with a loud knock on my door. Sawyer had ordered me breakfast from a café down the road and sent flowers along with a note of encouragement. Actually it was more of a threat. Now if only I could get the hockey players to cooperate. At least his gesture forced me out of bed and inspired me to get dressed.

  The entire team was already in the weight room, sitting cross-legged on their mats, all chanting ohm over a
nd over.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mumbled and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds to collect my thoughts. Next time Sawyer sent me breakfast, I was going to tell him to include a stiff shot of whiskey.

  When I lowered my gaze, Alex dazzled me with a beautiful grin. Conflicting emotions filled my gut, and I wasn’t sure if I should thank him or kick him in the shins for trying to share his enthusiasm. I settled on a chagrined half-smile before I took my place at the front of the room. The kid was way too happy for me, especially this early in the morning.

  The team stared at me with wide eyes and bounced on their knees like it was Christmas Day. I reminded myself not to let them rattle me. I had skated last in the Olympics with a silver medal riding on my performance. I could handle a few disgruntled guys.

  I started the workout. The players followed my directions but complained and groaned with every change of position. Their whining was less vocal today but still irritating. I could feel my nerves of steel straining under the pressure of these stupid guys. I lasted until the completion of our core exercises and a few minutes into the band work.

  When Cameron tried to strangle Matt with his band, I lost my shit. I thought about how Leo would have reacted if I had disrespected the time he was giving to me. He would have ushered me outside and made me run ten miles while he followed behind in his car. After I’d completed the run, he would have put me on the ice to skate until my legs felt like jelly and my lungs ached from breathing the chilly air.

  “Stop!” I shouted. “Just fucking stop. I have something to say.”

  A chorus of ohs filled the room. It made me grind my teeth and scrunch my hands into fists.

  “What is it, Miss Victoria?” Cameron asked sweetly.

  I yearned to punch him in the face, to feel my fist connect with his smirking mouth. Of course his jaw would probably break my hand, and then he would laugh at me.

  “You all can fuck right off,” I snarled. “And stop acting like a bunch of assholes.”

  “Which one is it? Fuck off or stop acting like assholes?” someone shouted.

  They leaned against the wall, elbowing each other and looking smug. I stood as tall as I could and threw my shoulders back.