by Cari Quinn
“How so?” Keith asked.
Sarah focused her attention on him. She’d explained all this already on the phone, but was happy to do it again if that’s what they wanted. These two men held the key to her future and keeping them happy was her top priority. At least Keith didn’t seem as overtly hostile, but rather he looked at her as if she were an exotic animal that might bite at any moment.
This won’t be easy.
“Well, for starters, my work in applied mathematics taught me not only critical thinking skills, but also how to use things like probability theory and geometry to give a team an edge. I should note that although some things may seem small and insignificant, they’re not. I think they’re the key to taking your team to the next level.”
“How so? We already have all the stats, so how would your analysis be different?”
Jon hadn’t said another word. With any luck the man’s eyes weren’t glazing over in boredom, but she was too afraid to check.
“It’s my belief goals per sixty minutes of play and goals allowed per sixty minutes of play will tell you exactly how valuable every player in the NHL is to their own team, and once you know that, you know what to key on when forming strategies and figuring out how to defend against other teams’ assets.” Goals per sixty minutes of play didn’t just deal with how many goals each player scored; it was an indication of how many total goals were scored by either that player or a teammate on the ice at the same time. Basically, in her mind, that was the most crucial measure of a player’s effectiveness and his value to his team. “For the Storm, you’ll have something concrete to look at when you’re doling out ice time. It’s worked beautifully for Cornell’s men’s hockey team.”
She risked a glance at Jon. Thankfully he didn’t look about to fall asleep, but she knew she should wrap it up before he did.
Returning her attention to Keith, she said, “But that’s just the beginning. Using my techniques should glean information no other team has. You’ll understand your opponents’ strengths and weaknesses better than they will understand yours. You might even understand them better than they do themselves.”
Sarah was talking out of her ass by this point but couldn’t seem to stop. She had to believe she could back up what she was saying at this level. The NHL was a different beast than college hockey, where she’d tested her hypotheses.
“Perhaps even more important, you’ll know what your own team’s strengths and weaknesses are so that you can capitalize on your strengths and mitigate your weaknesses.” Sarah took a deep breath and focused on Jon again. His intense gaze bored into hers. She had no doubt he frightened even the most hardened veteran. “I can’t guarantee I’m going to tell you something that drops the Stanley Cup into your hands, but I’m really excited for this opportunity and I want to do well. It was drilled into me from an early age to accept nothing but the best, and that’s what I expect to do.”
“Fair enough,” Jon said. “You haven’t convinced me this is something that’s even possible, but since the NHL put you in this position, we’ll just have to see what you can do.”
Jon would a tough nut to crack. She’d have to show him she could do it. That was the only way he’d believe it—if he saw it for himself.
Keith rose from his chair and came around the desk. “I’ll have Karen show you to your office. Why don’t you spend some time talking to Doug Howard? He’s the video consultant you’ll be working with. Then come back up here with him around noon. I’ll send out for lunch and the four of us can talk more about our plans.”
Maybe Keith won’t be as hard to convince as Jon…
Jon also rose. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he scrutinized her face. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I’m glad you expect the best, because that’s what I demand from everyone around me, from my players to my staff.” Cocking an eyebrow, he said, “This will be interesting, if nothing else.”
Yeah, interesting to say the least. It’s just my life we’re talking about here. No big deal. Sarah murmured an agreement and made her way to the door by herself.
The man she’d crashed into earlier was chatting with Karen as Sarah exited. She studied him as he propped a lean hip on Karen’s desk. He looked up, catching her in his gaze, and her mouth went dry.
Before Sarah could truly assess him, Karen noticed her. “Ready to go down to your office?”
Only paying half attention to the woman, Sarah nodded.
Her stomach lurched when Karen asked, “Have you met Sebastian St. Amant? Sebastian is one of our players. He played in Rochester last year. Sebastian, this is our new competitive analysis consultant, Sarah Jenkins.”
“Competitive analysis consultant?” Sebastian repeated.
“Yes, she’ll be working with Doug.”
Sebastian nodded and shot Sarah another of his slow, sexy, positively sinful smiles. A tingle started at the top of her head and worked its way to the tips of her toes. “Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
She took his hand. Hers were small and delicate in comparison. After removing her hand from his warm grip with no small amount of difficulty, as he didn’t appear to want to let her go, Sarah felt empty without the benefit of his touch. “It’s nice to meet you too, Sebastian,” she croaked out.
“Jon and Keith are waiting for you,” Karen told Sebastian before turning to Sarah, “Shall we?”
Sarah nodded again, watching as Sebastian ambled into Keith’s office. Finding out who Sebastian was had completely scrambled her brain. Rochester was the minor league team owned by the Storm, so all their players were part of training camp since there were always roster spots open. Having such a powerful attraction to a player was bad news.
Bad, bad news.
After following Karen out the door, Sarah waited as the older woman pushed the button for the elevator. Karen smoothed her short, permed hair before leaning toward Sarah and whispering, “How were they? Did they behave?” She winked and Sarah laughed.
“They were fine. I didn’t expect a ticker tape parade. I know this wasn’t their idea.”
“They’ll warm up. They’re both good men and they recognize quality. If you show them you can do the job, they’ll come to respect you. And that Sebastian, isn’t he something? He’s from up by Montreal somewhere. I just love his accent! All the girls in the office are dazzled by him, but I don’t think he even notices.”
No chance of him noticing a math geek then. Not that I should even care. I’m here to do a job.
“He’s such a nice boy I doubt he realizes the effect he has on women. I’ve rarely seen such a combination of talent, personality, and looks, and I’ve been working for the Storm for almost thirty years. Of course, I’m old enough to be his grandmother.”
When they arrived at what must have been Sarah’s new office, Karen unlocked the door and pushed it open. “It’s not much, I know. They had to convert a storage room into an office. I have no doubt you’ll add some homey touches. Here’s your key. Let me know if you need anything at all.”
She closed her hand around the key as if Karen might try to snatch it back. “I will. Thank you, Karen. You’ve been very nice.”
“Welcome aboard. The water can get choppy, but don’t let the guys overwhelm you.” She threw Sarah another wink and left.
Sarah skirted the desk that monopolized the room and a credenza on which a video machine rested to sit in her desk chair.
I’ve arrived.
Now she just had to convince them to let her stay.
* * *
Sebastian lugged the last of the boxes up the porch stairs then collapsed on one of the pieces of patio furniture scattered throughout the space. One of the things he loved about Buffalo was the old, rambling houses in the city. Most had wooden front porches set with columns of all different types spanning the entire house. Many were done up in funky colors—too–purples, pinks, reds, bright greens. He’d heard it described as “gingerbread style.” Though he wasn’t sure what that
meant, it was kind of cool and different.
“I had no idea I had this much stuff.”
His teammate and friend Rob D’Amico plopped down beside him and snickered. “You’re a pack rat, dude. Admit it.”
“What’s a ‘pack rat’?”
“I keep forgetting you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about half the time.”
Sebastian was used to Rob teasing him about English being his second language, so he motioned to get on with it.
“A pack rat is someone who collects stuff, who can never throw anything away. Which, by the way, is a bad thing for a hockey player who could be traded at any moment.”
Sebastian grinned. He wasn’t the type to be constantly worried about being traded. Why do that when you could embrace and enjoy life? “I like my stuff. It makes me more comfortable here.”
Sebastian missed his family back in Quebec, of course, but had inherited his mom’s perennially sunny attitude, finding ways to keep his roots in his heart while still going out and making his place in the world. He was finally starting to fit in somewhere. His skill level had outgrown the AHL and he was confident he could be an asset to the Storm. Now he had to convince the coaching staff and management he was ready for the show.
A smirk creeping up on his face, Rob glanced around then back at Sebastian. “Apparently.” He stood. “Let’s get everything into the house. I’m in the mood for a nice, big, juicy steak. You’re buying.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sebastian grumbled, but got to his feet then grabbed two boxes and juggled them as he approached the front door. He wasn’t really mad. Truth was, he couldn’t wait to get settled. With any luck this was where he’d be living all year.
From behind him, Rob said, “Hey, I never asked. How’d your meeting with Jon and Keith go yesterday? Anything interesting?”
Sebastian dropped the boxes in the living room and turned to his friend. Shorter than Sebastian by a couple of inches, with his barrel chest and overall stocky build Rob still put fear into the hearts of opponents. Off the ice, you couldn’t find a greater guy, though Sebastian would never admit that. Rob’s head was big enough already. “Actually, yeah, but not at the meeting.”
“What do you mean?”
Sebastian recalled his initial meeting, if you could call it that, with Sarah. Even now, his body still tingled from where hers had pressed against him. That was something he’d definitely like to experience again. Sarah wasn’t his usual type—young, carefree, and out for a good time—but he found himself drawn to her nonetheless.
“When I got to the arena, this girl, well, this woman, ran into me. Like checked me ran into me, and I had to grab her so she wouldn’t fall. I didn’t think much of it until I saw her again, coming out of Keith’s office. Karen introduced us, and you’ll never guess who she is.” He paused for a beat. “Our new competitive analysis person.”
Rob’s eyebrows shot up. “A woman?”
Sebastian dropped into one of the chairs scattered around and nodded. “Yep.”
“I mean, not that I don’t think a woman is capable of doing the job, I’m just surprised they hired one.” With a shrug, Rob sat. “Actually, I’m surprised they hired anyone. The NHL is running the team right now until the sale is final and I would’ve figured they’d have instituted a hiring freeze.”
“Me too.”
“What happened to Doug?” Rob frowned. “Did they fire him?”
“I have no idea.” Sebastian didn’t even know who Doug was. “But dude, she’s hot. And older.”
That would get his friend’s attention. Rob loved women, all women, and they loved him right back. Sebastian admired how comfortable Rob was with women. It wasn’t like Sebastian had never dated, but it was as if Rob could crook his finger and women came running. Sebastian wasn’t sure what it was about Rob that attracted so many women, but wished some of it would rub off on him. Sarah seemed as if she’d be a tough one to charm using his usual methods.
“Rrr-eeeal-ly…” Rob strung out the word to three distinct syllables, and Sebastian smiled. He’d known that would work. Rob was so predictable sometimes. “So tell me about her? How old do you think she is? Come on. I need details.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Her name is Sarah. She’s a tiny little thing. Comes up to here.” Sebastian indicated a spot in the middle of his chest. “She has all this wild hair. It’s sort of dark red, I guess. I don’t know how old she is, but she’s definitely older than either of us. Maybe in her thirties.”
An older woman. The idea of dating an older woman was exciting for some reason.
“Huh. Wonder if she can do the job?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t see why she could not.” Sarah seemed smart. He could see it in her eyes, and that was incredibly sexy.
“Interesting. I guess we’ll see soon enough,” Rob answered with his trademark smirk. “Well, let’s get the rest of your crap into the house. I’m hungry.”
Chapter Two
Sarah rearranged the paperclips in their holder, straightened the notes scattered across the top of her desk, and then pushed to her feet. She had spent weeks organizing her office—even though it would never last with her working habits—doing preliminary scouting with Doug, and waiting for this day. It was mid-September and time for training camp and to formally meet the players. She’d been introduced to a few in passing but hadn’t had a chance to interact with them. The time to sink her teeth into the job and get her hands dirty had arrived, and she couldn’t be more excited.
She slunk into the cavernous meeting room filled with rows of chairs and a podium in the front along with a white board and projector screen, and attempted to smooth down her hair. It simply refused to behave in humid weather. Putting it up would’ve been a good idea since, compared to these guys, she was a lump of nerd, and Medusa-like hair didn’t help her confidence.
Tasha, her cat, had been needy that morning, and feeling so guilty about the time she’d be away in the coming months, Sarah had sat and cuddled with the animal. Tasha had been with her for four years now and was the closest Sarah had come, and likely would ever come, to having a child. She’d meant to grab some bobby pins and a clip before running out the door, but when she’d glanced at the clock and seen the time, that thought had flown out the window.
It was too late now to worry about it. She dropped her hand. She had bigger fish to fry.
Sarah tried to read the atmosphere in the room, shooting her gaze from place to place. All eyes focused on her as she scooted to the back corner and took up residence, ignoring the stares as they examined her like a bug under a magnifying glass. Her appointment had been mentioned in an e-mail to the players, but from the varying expressions, it was difficult to tell what she was in for.
Keith and Jon walked into the room. The meeting began and everyone gave their attention to the two men. While the team listened to the preliminary information Keith and Jon went over, Sarah rehearsed in her head what she wanted to say.
“Sarah?” Keith called and she startled, heat suffusing her face. With a gentle smile, he motioned her forward.
As she walked toward Keith, forty pairs of male eyes assessed her from head to toe and her blush deepened. “She’s our new consultant?” one of the guys in the front row asked, disbelief evident in his voice.
Great start. I’m beet red and the players are incredulous.
“Yes,” Keith said. “This is Sarah Jenkins. As we explained in the e-mail, she was a postdoctoral fellow at Cornell before coming here. Her specialty is statistical analysis.”
He paused a moment to let the undercurrent of chatter die down then continued. “Sarah was hired by the NHL to help us out.” Keith had said it matter-of-factly, but there was no mistaking the meaning behind his words. This hadn’t been their decision.
Awesome, the whole team knowing that isn’t going to help my case. If they were already skeptical, which it was obvious they were, knowing her appointment hadn’t been Jon’s or Keith’s idea would only make this
more of an uphill battle.
“Because of that, we’re using Sarah as, let’s say, an experiment.” More murmurs went up from the guys and Keith motioned with a slash of his hand for everyone to settle.
He’s basically saying he doesn’t know if I’ll be of any use to the team or not. A ringing endorsement.
Maybe she’d been wrong about Keith being the easier one to win over. That made Sarah more determined than ever to prove herself.
Jon stepped up. Like most coaches in the NHL, he was an ex-player. He still worked out, and it showed in his large biceps and broad chest. His hair was cropped close to his head, and he, like the other on-ice coaches, wore a warm-up suit. His famous hardened gaze swept the room and the players snapped to attention with military-like precision.
It was obvious why Jon was a head coach. He had the perfect demeanor for it. The man had been a bruising defenseman for Philadelphia during his playing days, and his attitude still held that cocky self-assurance.
“Sarah will work with Doug analyzing both our team and other teams by doing in-person and video analysis. Everyone has that stuff these days, but what she’s proposing has never been done in the NHL before.”
Considering his attitude toward her before now, Sarah almost fell over hearing Jon defend her.
“It might not work, and I’m the first to admit I have my doubts, but we’re going to try it. Sarah will spend time in the video room, attend practices, and be in the press box during games. She will meet with us and use her knowledge and experience to give us an edge over our opponents.” Jon turned to Sarah and motioned toward the guys.
It was time for her to speak. I deserve this chance. I deserve to be here.
After taking a deep breath, she said, “Hi, guys. Just to give you a little more background, I was born and raised in Rochester, and I’ve been a hockey fan all my life. I rooted for the Storm growing up, then went to Cornell and continued to follow the team while I got a PhD in applied mathematics. Yes, I’m a math geek.”
She smiled when they chuckled. Some of the weight lifted off her shoulders. So far, so good. No one’s thrown me out yet at least.