Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

  “Thanks for coming by, Mr. Zimin. Could I get you anything?” Dr. Calvin Morris, head of Pediatrics at The Hospital of the University of Philadelphia, sat across from Zim, offering him a friendly smile.

  Zim returned it. “No, thanks. And call me Zim.”

  The doctor’s smile brightened. “Zim it is. I’m Calvin.”

  “Nice to put a face to the name.”

  “Likewise.”

  Calvin folded his hands and rested them on his surprisingly uncluttered desk. The entire office was spartan, but was flooded with natural light from the enormous window behind his office chair. It offered an unobstructed view of the Philadelphia skyline.

  “Again, let me say how wonderful it is that you want to make our department the beneficiary of your foundation. The way things are going, donations and grants are getting harder to come by.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware. And I hope I can help.”

  “I know you can,” Calvin reassured him. “You already have, just by making us a stop on your Cup Day tour. Congratulations again on the win. I bet it was thrilling, being on an expansion team and winning the big one practically right out of the gate.”

  “Thank you and, yes, it was pretty gratifying. But this isn’t really a tour. I’m just going to drop by my parents, stop by here, and then we have the fundraiser tomorrow night.”

  “Really?” Calvin cocked his head. “Nothing fun, like, drinking champagne out of it? I hear that’s a thing.”

  Zim shrugged, smiling. “Maybe I’ll get together with some friends from the neighborhood.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Mayfair.”

  “Ah, I didn’t know that. You were born in Russia, weren’t you?”

  Zim nodded. “Yeah, in St. Petersburg, but I was twelve when my family emigrated.”

  “I see. And your…” Calvin paused, caution in his eyes. “Your sister was diagnosed in Russia?”

  The mention of his sister brought forth a familiar ache, but Zim pushed it aside. Ten years had done nothing to diminish the impact of his loss.

  “Yeah. Mila was diagnosed there, but the facilities to treat her weren’t great.”

  “Your family learned of Dr. Kohn’s program here at THUP?”

  “We were fortunate.” Zim had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could continue. “My father had enough money to bring us here. And we had family here already, so it was easier for us than for most others to immigrate.”

  “Very fortunate, indeed.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry for asking, but, the treatment…?”

  “It was successful, to a point. We got seven more years with Mila.”

  “You were very close?”

  “Twins.”

  The other man nodded, his lips thinning into a sad smile. “Well, we are honored that you want to establish your sister’s trust here at THUP.”

  Calvin turned to his computer monitor. “I see here that all of the paperwork has been filed. Your lawyer is very thorough.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Meticulous, is he?”

  “Yes, she is. My hope is to expand the program someday, have something like this available in different cities.”

  Morris nodded, smiling. “Well, I see no reason why the board wouldn’t approve it.”

  “Good. By the way, that dinner tomorrow night is sold out, but I have seats reserved for you and the members of the board if you want to bring your spouse.”

  “Whereabouts?”

  “The Manayunk.”

  “Oh, that’s a fantastic restaurant. Thanks for the invitation, I’ll ask my wife.” Calvin knit his fingers behind his head. “I remember when the Manayunk was first docked at Penn’s Landing. They gave tours of the old ship, you know. It was like stepping back in time.”

  “I bet. Since the weather’s been holding up, I thought it would be a good spot to wine and dine the deep pockets. People can get professional photos with The Cup.”

  Calvin hummed in agreement. “Will the press be there?”

  “I don’t really do press.”

  “I’ve heard that about you,” the other man teased. “Not often you come across a professional athlete, much less one that’s just won the biggest prize in his sport, who isn’t ready to shout it from the rooftops and appear on every TV show that’ll have him.”

  Zim shook his head. “It’s never been my style.”

  “I see. But you’re alright with the small contingent we have scheduled to come in tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow? You invited the press?”

  “Yes, but only the newspapers. I know you didn’t want any television coverage. And I’ve already informed security, and the staff, should anyone try to crash the event. Parents and visitors already have to sign in.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “It isn’t just for you, it’s about the children. They are as yet unaware. We want it to be a surprise for them, you understand.”

  “It’ll be fun, I hope. I’ve hired a balloon guy, and a woman who does magic for kids.”

  “Sounds great. I must warn you, though,” Calvin leaned forward as if about to share a terrible secret. “My Head Nurse, Sujarta Meriwether, she’s…well, she’s not too excited to have you here.”

  “Oh?”

  “She is dedicated, one of the best nurses I’ve ever worked with, and she is fabulous with the kids. They all fall in love with her, and she’s very protective.”

  “My sister had a nurse like that, awesome lady.”

  “The staff at THUP is exceptional, always has been.” The man’s pride was evident.

  “That’s why I chose you.” Zim stood. “Anyway, I should probably get out of your hair.”

  Calvin rose from his chair, his hand extended. “I’ll see you tomorrow. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call my assistant. By the way, would it be an imposition if I brought my Buffalo ‘Subzero’ jersey in for you to sign?”

  “You’re a fan?”

  The older man beamed, his smile knocking ten years off his age. “Who isn’t? You may keep away from the cameras, but everyone knows your reputation on the ice.”

  Zim smiled. “Thanks, and of course I’ll sign it.”

  “Great! Let me see you out.”

  Calvin stepped around his desk and walked to the door, opening it.

  Zim moved to walk through and suddenly found himself with an armful of soft, fragrant curves.

  His heart stopped.

  Sue, dressed in purple scrubs with a cartoon turtle print, blinked up at him. Apparently, she’d been about to knock on the door before she landed in his arms.

  He liked having here there again.

  Zim had only a moment to take in her high cheekbones, wide almond eyes, and flawless henna skin before she recovered from the shock and stepped back to address the man she’d come to see, ignoring him completely. Like they were strangers. Like she’d never seen him before.

  Just how drunk had she been?

  “Dr. Morris, tell me you’re not really going let that guy come in here tomorrow for a photo op? Things are hectic enough without some meathead jock bringing a flippin’ media circus into the ward.”

  Jock? It wasn’t untrue. He was a professional athlete, after all. But meathead? Zim stood to the side and watched the exchange with amusement.

  Calvin exhaled slowly, giving him a quick look of apology before addressing her.

  “Nurse Meriwether, I promise you it won’t be a media circus.”

  “How could it not be?” Her tone was one of exasperation. “He’s bringing some big trophy, or whatever, and who knows what else. Team mascot or something?”

  “He plays for New Orleans, Ms. Meriwether. I don’t think we’d do well to have another team’s colors in The Hospital of the University of Philadelphia.”

  “Then why is he coming? Tell him to stay down there. He can throw a parade on Bourbon Street.”

  Zim chuckled. He liked this woman. �
��Because I’m from here. And I wanted to bring The Cup to Philly, even if it isn’t with the hometown team at the moment.”

  Her eyes flashed with surprise when she turned to him. “You’re…”

  He grinned. “The meathead jock.”

  He expected her to flush with embarrassment, perhaps make an apology for speaking so harshly. Maybe even acknowledge that they’d had their tongues down each other’s throats not ten hours ago. What he didn’t expect was for her to aim her frustrations directly at him.

  “Look, no offense, I don’t care where you’re from or where you play, I just don’t want a circus around my ward.”

  “I don’t intend…”

  “And, really, I’m sure you have better things to do that pretend to care about a bunch of sick kids.”

  “Suji,” Calvin warned.

  Not-Sue-but-Suji sighed with undisguised disgust. “I know, I know. Sorry, but these children come first.”

  “For all of us, Ms. Meriwether.” There was no ire in his voice. Calvin clearly admired this woman and Zim could see why.

  She was beautiful, yes. He already knew that. But there was something about her spirit, about the way she’d so clearly taken to heart her commitment to her work that Zim liked. A lot.

  She’d shown the same genuine sweetness and concern for him last night.

  He wanted to know more about her, more than what she looked like naked, which was odd. He never wanted to get to know anyone, really. Other than his parents, he stuck with his friends and his teammates, most of which fell into the same net.

  “I’m told the only press will be newspaper.” Zim looked to Calvin for confirmation, and the other man nodded.

  Suji eyed him with suspicion. “No T.V.?”

  “Mr. Zimin insisted that no TV cameras be present,” the doctor supplied.

  “Then…why?” Her eyes narrowed as she sized Zim up.

  “Mr. Zimin is launching a foundation to help children with long-term illnesses and their families.”

  The brunette arched an eyebrow. Her eyes were a rusty gold, like amber, and just as hard. “Of course he is.”

  It wasn’t exactly disdain Zim heard in her voice, but it was damn close. He wondered what in her past had left her with such an intense dislike of pro athletes. Sure, a lot of them had reputations, but most of the guys he worked with were decent people. Or maybe it was just him.

  He scoured his memory for anything he might have done last night to upset her. Maybe he had pushed too hard? Kissed her too soon? Too much? Not enough?

  “We can discuss it later,” Calvin promised her before turning to Zim. “I’m sorry, I have an appointment across campus, but I’ll see you tomorrow. You can find your way from here?”

  Zim watched with amusement as Suji’s expression flashed from surprise, to defeat, to annoyance.

  “Maybe Nurse Meriwether could be my guide.”

  The look she gave him was murderous. What had he done to her last night? As far as he remembered, he’d been a perfect gentleman.

  Though, now, he was staring. He couldn’t help it.

  Suji’s eyes widened slightly before a frown settled over them.

  “I’ll leave you to it.” Calvin grinned before stepping around them and breaking into a light jog.

  Suji pointed to their right. “The elevator’s over there. She spun on her rubber-clogged heel and walked away.

  Despite being totally out of his element, Zim found himself following her as she briskly moved through the ward, breezing by the nurse’s station to grab a clipboard. They ended up in a room that housed four beds, and Suji went to one by the windows. The outline of a small, thin frame could be seen under the hospital blanket. The sight of it stopped Zim mid-stride. He stood and watched as she closed the curtain around the bed, not even sparing him a glance.

  Well, damn.

  “Do you belong here?”

  The little girl had nearly given him a heart attack, her voice sounded so much like his sister’s. Like Mila’s, at that age.

  Zim swallowed hard and then turned to find the source of the inquiry staring up at him with big, pale green eyes. The bruising underneath them told him the child was suffering, even if her pale pink pajamas and hospital gown hadn’t given her away. The closely-cropped, ginger hair that swept over her too-visible scalp made another lump form in Zim’s throat.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She blinked up at him, her face a perfect mask of impatience. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Do I belong here?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  Ten, maybe eleven years old, and already a cynic. Zim smiled.

  “No, you didn’t. I’m sorry. I was visiting with Dr. Morris, but he had to go to a meeting.”

  “Oh.” Her face relaxed from suspicion to curiosity. “What are you going to do now?”

  Her question surprised him. Zim had a few hours before he had to go to the airport to collect Edwin Motz, the official Keeper of the Hockey League’s prized trophy, The Cup.

  For the next twenty-four hours, plus a few extra, thanks to scheduling, The Cup would be his to do with as he pleased. Within reason.

  “I’m not sure, actually. Any suggestions?”

  To his surprise, the young girl took his hand and started walking. He had no choice but to follow. One of the other nurses looked up as they passed her station, her eyebrow raised.

  “I’m taking him to the game room,” the girl said without stopping.

  “What did I tell you about pestering strangers, young lady?”

  Zim tried to halt their progress, ready to explain to the new nurse that he meant no harm when the girl stopped and spun around to face her.

  “He’s not a stranger, he’s Constantine Zimin, also known as Subzero, star defenseman for the New Orleans Cajun Rage, the winners of this year’s League Cup. He played in eighty-four games, scored thirteen goals, had thirty-two assists, and served ninety-eight minutes in the Sin Bin.”

  “The Sin Bin?” The nurse, now clearly amused, folded her arms. Apparently, this sort of thing wasn’t unusual for her. For Zim it was mind-blowing.

  This little girl knew his stats better than he did.

  The little redhead rolled her eyes. “Duh. That’s the penalty box. Really, Nurse Jordan, you need to watch a game with me.”

  Nurse Jordan chuckled, her smooth, copper skin crinkling with her laughter. “I guess I should. Is that why you’re dragging this nice, young man to the game room?”

  “I want him to meet Aaron. He’s a big fan.”

  Nurse Jordan trained her all-too-knowing eyes on Zim, and he straightened.

  “I should probably get going.”

  “If Red, here, wants you to do something, you’d better do it Mr. Sports Star,” she laughed and Zim grinned.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He turned back to the little girl, who had grabbed his hand again. “Lead the way.”

  ***

  The game room was a pretty cheery, given the location. They’d situated it in the corner of the building, and the room was flooded with lots of natural sunlight. Pint-sized furniture had been placed around the floor space, and low shelves lined the walls, stuffed with games and toys of every shape and size. A sectional sat in one corner, facing an entertainment center with various video game consoles.

  On the sofa sat a small boy, his face screwed up in concentration as he stared at the flat screen television. He gripped the controller in his hands like a lifeline, twisting it this way and that to control the figure on the screen.

  Which happened to be Zim.

  “See?” Little Red pulled him along, toward the sofa.

  “Aaron,” her voice changed. She spoke to him as someone might talk to a skittish cat. “Hey, buddy, look.”

  The boy didn’t respond.

  Tiff dropped Zim’s hand and moved toward Aaron. It was only when she stood next to him that Zim noticed the IV pole. A bag of clear liquid hung from one of the loops, and a tube extended down toward the child�
��s arm.

  Zim shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hey, little guy.”

  The boy glanced over his shoulder and his eyes grew wide. The controller slipped from his fingers as he stared.

  “Don’t freak out,” came Tiff’s warning.

  “You’re…”

  “Hi.” Zim walked around to face him, squatting low to meet him at eye level. “I’m Zim, and you’re Aaron?”

  “But…how…” He stuttered, his voice weak. “Are you my wish?”

  Zim frowned and glanced at Tiff. “Wish?”

  “He means, are you here because of the Wish Foundation. He wrote a letter asking to meet you.” Tiff cocked her head. “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Well, no. I didn’t know about it, but I’m glad to meet you, Aaron.”

  Aaron’s smile spread slowly. A bit of red dotted his olive cheeks. “I’m Aaron.”

  Zim chuckled.

  “He knows that, idiot,” Tiff chided. “He just called you by name.”

  “Oh.” Aaron’s wide eyes followed Zim as he stood.

  “If you’re not his wish, what are you doing here?” Tiff was very direct, he had to give her that.

  Zim checked around for other people before turning back to them. He lowered his voice to a whisper as if he were about to share a secret.

  “I’ll tell you, but you can’t say anything to anyone.”

  Tiffany took a step back, frowning. “We’re not supposed to keep secrets.”

  Zim smiled. “This one is okay, I think. I’m coming back here tomorrow, and I’m bringing The Cup with me.”

  “No way!” Aaron’s voice grew a little stronger, but it looked like it took a lot out of him. “Here? Really? That is my wish!”

  Tiff’s smile was full of affection as she watched the younger boy’s reaction, but she eyed Zim with suspicion.

  “Are you really?”

  “Yep.”

  Tiff nodded once. “That’s pretty cool. We can keep that secret.”

  “Whew, thanks.” Zim wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’d be in big trouble if everyone found out.”