His Game, Her Rules

by Charlene Groome

  “I just told you! I know why you’re asking,” he says. “And I can tell you, I’m no Mario.”

  She swallows hard, feeling the overwhelming fear and hurtfulness return.

  “Okay, well, what happened at a club two years ago with an eighteen-year-old?” she asks, desperately changing the subject.

  Ty’s quiet for a moment, running his hand over his scalp and scratching the back of his head. “I thought she was older.”

  “So I heard.”

  “If you think I do that all the time, I don’t. I’ve changed, Elle. I’m not like that anymore.” He braces his hands on the counter and looks at her endearingly.

  She gives him a slow nod, reassured. She wants to believe him. A part of her does.

  “Look, do you want to get some fresh air? We can both use a walk.”

  They stroll down the road, making their way to a nearby trail. The birds are singing and the wildflowers sway from the ocean breeze. The fresh air is indeed what she needed.

  Eileen cautions herself against walking too close to him, yet she desperately wants him to pull her close, wrapping a strong arm around her even though she knows she’s risking more articles and jeopardizing her career.

  “Are you planning a visit with your family before the season starts?” she asks him, taking a long look at the gravel path ahead.

  “Yeah, I’ll go see them soon,” he says, sounding as casual as he looks in his Maui Jims and flip-flops.

  They walk over a wooden bridge and Elle stops to watch the ducks quack and bob at every wave. “Ever notice that male and female ducks stick together?” she asks. “Rarely apart.”

  “I never noticed that before,” Ty admits as he leans up beside her, admiring nature.

  Elle folds her hands over the railing. “This is so relaxing,” she says, letting herself fall back and inhale the fresh air. It’s the first time she’s been with him that they haven’t been stopped and harassed for an autograph or picture. “I needed this.”

  “Me too.” He puts an arm around her waist and brings her close, giving her a little squeeze.

  Why does anyone care about them? They’re like a normal couple. What does it matter what they do? The focus should be on her coaching the team, not who she spends time with. And as hard as she tries, Eileen puts the thought away for as long as she can to simply enjoy the view until her phone rings and she casually takes it out of her purse.

  “Eileen Francis.”

  “I’ve warned you,” the man says stridently.

  The color drains from Eileen’s face. She stares at the ground. “What do you want from me?” she asks in a mere whisper, her body feeling weak. Why hasn’t this guy stopped calling her? “Who are you?” Her back stiffens.

  “You don’t belong on the team.”

  Ty takes the phone from Eileen’s ear and yells, “Who is this?” He pauses. “Who is this?”

  The line goes dead. Ty takes the phone away from his ear. “Another threat?”

  She nods as though her neck muscles are tight and takes a deep breath. “I wish I knew who it was,” she whispers. “I can’t even guess who would want to threaten me.”

  “You have to tell the police,” Ty says, putting his hands on his hips. “You have to put a stop to it.”

  “I don’t want to lose my job,” she pleads. “There is so much attention about me teaching the team—this will only bring on more negativity. Ted won’t have it. He’ll get rid of me before it becomes an issue.”

  “He won’t,” Ty says, shaking his head. “This is about your safety.”

  Eileen throws her phone into her purse and holds on to the wooden pier railing. Ty wraps his arm around her, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. She lets herself fall into him, breathing in the fresh ocean air. Her head rests on his chest. Being with Ty doesn’t feel so wrong, she tells herself, relaxing in his arms and letting him hold her.

  “Did you hear his voice?” Eileen asks, looking up at Ty to meet his troubled eyes.

  “No, but he heard mine. I think he was going to say something and then hung up.”

  “I don’t know the voice.”

  “We have to get help before something bad happens.”

  Up until now, she was sure the words were meaningless. What happens if Ty is right? Could her life be in jeopardy?

  Her nerves are a ball of tangled mess so she waits until she’s home to call the police and to see what can be done.

  Chapter 13

  Two days later, Eileen still hadn’t heard back from the police. She left a message and still there was nothing done to stop the threats. Maybe the police were so busy that non-emergencies were on the bottom of their to-do list.

  “Hi, Elle!” Robyn sings and tries stopping her in her place, but Eileen is on a mission. She has work to do. Perhaps showing up at the rink early to call new clients before instructing her class was a bad idea. “So, I guess I was right. You and Ty? Dating?” she asks in a rush.

  “No, I’m not dating him.”

  “But you were with him on the weekend and I read that you two were spotted several times together. I think that’s evidence enough that you two are dating,” Robyn says, her dangling earrings swaying as she bobs her head. “If I were you, I’d announce it.”

  “Do you believe everything you read?” she says, taking a step backwards. “I’ve got some calls to make before my class.”

  “That’s why I’m asking you!” Her voice raises, but Eileen ignores her and keeps walking toward the empty desk she uses. Does Eileen have to answer that? Even if she lies, what excuse does she have that’s believable enough?

  Eileen finishes up with her six-years-olds and heads out of the lobby when her phone rings. She looks at the unrecognizable number and takes a breath, unsure if she should take the call. Her body freezes, wondering what the threat will be this time. But then, the more she speaks to the harasser, the closer she will get to understand what he really wants from her and who it is.

  “Hi, Eileen, it’s Constable Dundas.”

  She exhales, relieved.

  “I understand you have been a victim of harassment?”

  “That’s right,” she answers, keeping her phone as close to her mouth as possible so her eavesdropping coworker can’t hear her conversation.

  “These phone calls you’ve been getting, do you know the phone number?”

  She heads out the main doors, keeping her head up so she’s aware of her surroundings. “No, they’ve been unknown.”

  “Typical. How about the notes? Are they all the same printing, have you noticed?”

  “Looks similar.”

  “And you said you only get these notes when you’re at the Dome?”

  “That’s right. Same goes for the key marks on my car. It happened at work.”

  “I’m going to say that it’s pretty obvious from what you’ve told me that it could be someone who knows your schedule. At this point, you don’t know who it is.”

  “No.”

  “Any indication? A coworker? Ex-boyfriend? Did you have a run-in with someone other than work-related issues?”

  “No. None.”

  “If you can record the phone calls, we’ll be able to have evidence of the harassment. However, at this time, I have nothing to go on.”

  “I was afraid of that,” she admits, getting into her car.

  “You need to be diligent when alone.”

  “Do you think I could get hurt?”

  “You don’t know. I’m saying take extra precautions. We need to know who is making these threats before we can get to the next step. Pay attention to the people around you. I’ll give you my number. Call me if you receive another threat or if you can pinpoint who the person is. Or if you think you are in danger. I want to know. In the meantime, be conscious of who’s around you. Change up your routine if you can.”

  “Thank you,” Eileen sighs and hangs up. She drives to the Dome feeling a little more settled now that she has made contact with the police. How can she change up
her routine when her life is on a schedule?

  Eileen sneaks into the rink, hiding from what looks like Ty and Brandon talking to a group of women, smiling, laughing, and being loud and flirtatious. The guys are drawn into the conversation by their long, streaked-blonde hair, big earrings, and tight jeans.

  Eileen pushes her sunglasses off her face so she can be certain it’s Ty chatting it up. She sucks in a breath, trying not to be distracted, and tells herself that what they shared Saturday night was two lonely people having fun, nothing more, nothing less. Yes, Saturday night was amazing, really amazing. Never has any guy made her feel so beautiful and wanted, special and attractive. Even Mario didn’t make her feel so alive and she dated him for a year!

  Was what she and Ty shared just a one-time fling? Although it feels like so much more, she has to remember to play it smart with Ty now, pretend nothing happened and maybe, just maybe she can accept that they’ll never be a real couple even though her heart tells her different.

  Eileen warms up her legs by skating around the rink before the team joins her for an afternoon practice.

  “Eileen!”

  She hears her name and looks to the bench. It’s Ted Walker. His arms are crossed and she can see his bushy white eyebrows before his dark eyes.

  She skates over to him, her heart pounding so hard that her hands begin to sweat in her hockey gloves. She’s never spoken to the owner one-on-one before. Is he going to tell her this is her last shift as a Warrior?

  “Eileen,” he says her name with assertiveness.

  “Mr. Walker!” She stops at the bench, keeping a little distance between them. She holds her stick with both hands for comfort.

  “You’re getting a lot of attention these days. I suspected you would. . . . It’s good publicity for the team.” He undoes his hands. “However, having a relationship with another employee is against company policy. I can’t tell you who you can involve yourself with, but if you want respect from this industry, I would advise you to clean it up and make your job here a priority.”

  “I do, sir. Perhaps I don’t know the company’s policy because I wasn’t given a contract,” she says, steadying her voice. The last thing Ted would want is a mousey employee. She’s in the big league now; she needs to act as though there’s no fear.

  He gives her a nod. His eyes squint as though in thought. “I will have one drafted up. Until then, it would be wise to keep your distance from Caldwell or you will be terminated, no questions asked.”

  Eileen watches him turn around and leave, relieved that she still has her job. He didn’t even give her the chance to defend herself, although what could she say?

  She has to remember to stay away from Ty before people do take notice. Not like some haven’t already, but she needs to be more discreet or people will be talking more about them as a couple rather than about their careers.

  The team slowly makes it onto the ice, one by one, like an army of ants. Making long strides, their sticks in hand, they’re ready for instruction. “Five hard laps around the rink!” Eileen shouts. “Meet me down in this corner. Whoever is last will have to complete a set of push-ups and a set of sit-ups.”

  “What do you consider a set?” one player yells out.

  “Twenty-five,” Eileen says in a firm voice. “Let’s go!” she shouts and then blows her whistle. They all take off racing to the finish line while Eileen grabs small cones and sets them up on the ice in a zigzag line for the first drill.

  Her hair tied back into a tight ponytail, Eileen sports a blue tracksuit and wears a touch of mascara and a dab of pink lip gloss. She smiles at her team, watching the players complete their hard skate. “Looks like you’re the chosen one,” she says to one player and he drops to his knees.

  “While he’s busy, we’re going to work on transition skating. I need defense right here,” she says, pointing to the spot with the blade of her stick. “And forwards over here,” she says. “Forwards, you’ll skate with the puck around the cone. Defense, you’ll skate backwards around the cones. You’ll be slightly in front of the forwards, and once you’re around the cone, defense will skate forward and then backwards trying to check your opponent. Does everyone understand?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you show us?” one player asks and then laughs.

  “Okay,” Eileen says easily. “Ty,” she calls, saying his name naturally and regretfully. She passes him a puck, knowing she’s safe with him. “You can help demonstrate.”

  “Don’t they make a cute couple,” Thompson mocks, laughing.

  Eileen ignores him. She hasn’t spoken to Thompson since the incident. She wants to, but can’t find the words or the energy to confront him. Besides, what can she say that would make things better? The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes she was giving him the attention he wants.

  “Okay, you skate with the puck,” she tells Ty as he begins to skate. “I’ll be defense,” she shouts and glances at Ty, who hasn’t taken his eyes off her. “I don’t lose sight of the forward with the puck. I stay with him so that he has to eventually make a move. I don’t want to give him space”—she waves her hand between them—“because that will allow him to make a play. Let’s get into position.” She watches the team split up and carefully examines their abilities. She can’t help but watch Ty skate and move on the ice with strength and agility. His legs are powerhouses, able to skate hard and fast. He makes every exercise look effortless.

  They get to the end of the drill. “Okay, next,” she yells out and blows her whistle, watching for Ty’s number twenty-two jersey, although she can spot him easily during practice. He leaves his helmet strap undone and tucks in his jersey at his hip.

  They stay where they are, watching the rest of the team go through the practice.

  “You’re pretty good,” Ty admits.

  “Are you just saying that to butter me up?”

  “No, of course not,” he says with a mischievous grin. “I really do mean it.”

  “Then why do you have that look?”

  “What look?” he asks.

  “I don’t know, Caldwell.” She can’t put her finger on it. “You seem different.”

  “Well, we did spend practically the whole weekend together,” he says. “How am I supposed to act?”

  A reminder that she’s mixed business with pleasure and this is what she has to expect.

  Eileen holds back her answer when his teammates skate in for another instruction. She makes the team practice another drill as Steve and Joe join her on the ice.

  She gives them each a nod as she keeps her attention on the team. Because of the talent on the team, it’s not easy telling them what to do, but her job’s on the line. She has to push their limits. It’s the only way she’ll get recognized and respected as a pro.

  Eileen blows her whistle. “Okay, guys, bring it in,” she yells. When the group surrounds her, she explains the next drill. “The next thing we’re going to do is a forecheck drill. I want two teams—blues against whites. I’m going to shoot the puck into one of the corners. It will be the same scenario as a game.”

  “No need to do a scrimmage,” Joe points out. His black, short, straw-like strands are evenly cut around his forehead and ears. “These guys need something fresh, something new!”

  “It’s not a scrimmage,” Eileen bellows. She ignores Joe’s brown weasel eyes and thinks about the play she wants the men to practice. She continues to ignore Joe, looking at the players as she explains. “Except, defense”—she makes eye contact with the players—“two at a time, one of you loses your stick. You must defend with your body—”

  “They’re not blocking shots, are they?” Joe asks, all serious. “Don’t need an injury before the season starts.”

  Eileen puts a hand on her hip. “Would you like to instruct, Joe? It sounds like you have another idea for practice.”

  She hears the guys whisper as she stares at Joe. His face changes from expressionless to hard. He clenches his jaw and puffs out his chest. Isn�
��t he going to back down?

  “Go ahead, Joe,” she presses. “The ice is all yours.”

  Joe relaxes his mouth, but his beady eyes haven’t left her. Eileen’s back stiffens. She licks her bottom lip, waiting for him to respond to her. Clearly he wants to take over her instruction. He can’t seem to leave her alone.

  “Continue, Eileen,” Steve says with a tap of his stick on the ice. He stands taller than Joe with a courteous nod.

  “Here we go!” She regains her composure. “I’ll shoot a puck into one of the corners. Defense, you’ll be at the blue line skating back. It’s a three-on-two, first to the puck makes the play. You get three tries to score and then we change ends. There’s no stopping until I blow the whistle. Got it?” She pauses and waits for any questions. “Joe? Why don’t you shoot first?”

  He takes a slap shot into the corner of the rink, hitting the boards with a loud bang. She watches the men perform and is enjoying how well they are playing. Her eyes tune in to Ty; his ability to make a play is impressive. It’s hard not to watch him skate and easy to ignore the others. Finally, the men change ends and there is a new group to watch as she stands at the boards. The men are skating so hard, she can feel the wind against her face as they pass her. She could get used to this job.

  When practice is over, she gets Steve’s consent to have the ice to herself so she can practice puck control and slap shots. Some of the guys are stretching on the bench, and Ty is busy talking with a teammate.

  Eileen skates around the ice, taking long strides and stretching out her legs. She picks up a puck and takes a shot at the empty net. When she retrieves it, she continues to skate around the rink, practicing her moves, skating over every circle, forward and back with a puck. She stops when she gets to the last one.

  “Great practice,” Ty says, skating toward her.

  “Thanks,” she says, surprised. She had to admit it was one of her toughest practices so far, not because of the comments made, but because the practice itself was a challenge.

  “What are you doing after this?” Ty asks, standing tall, his blue practice jersey tucked into one side of his shorts.