Meryl watched for a few minutes as the players out on the ice practiced more shooting drills, noticing that the boy seemed to know all of them by name, periodically calling out ‘Colton’ and ‘Trevor’ and ‘Ryder.’
“You seem to know your stuff,” Meryl said to the boy. “Who’s your favorite player?”
“Brantov, of course,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “But I usually play goalie on my team, so I like Lawson too.”
Becker Lawson, the Generals’ starting netminder who’d just fallen victim to one of Brantov’s wicked wrist shots, not unlike the Winnipeg goalie had the night before. Meryl knew about Becker too. She made it her business to know as much about the Generals players as possible. Like this boy, though, she had her favorite.
“I like Brantov myself,” she said. Beck Lawson wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, not by any stretch. But there was something about Nik that drew her in and excited her.
“You know hockey?” the boy asked, his eyes widening a little.
“What, just because I’m a girl, you think I can’t know hockey?” Meryl asked, teasing. “I know a fair bit.” She didn’t offer that her father owned the team and thus was the boss of all these guys out on the ice.
“You’re cooler than my sister, then,” the kid said, causing Meryl to laugh.
“Do you come to practice often?” she asked. She looked around the rink for a parent, wondering how he got there today. The small practice rink wasn’t exactly filled with spectators.
“Nah. This is my first time. School just let our for winter break, so my dad said I could come when Nik invited me.”
Nik. Meryl noticed the boy used his first name. “You’ve met Nik before?”
“You could say that.” The kid’s face broke out in a grin. “He’s staying at our house. And he’s the best.”
Now Meryl made the connection. This boy must be the son of the host family Nik lived with. That explained his enthusiasm. It had to be pretty impressive being a young hockey player and having an NHL star living in your house. “So what’s he like off the ice?” Meryl asked, her curiosity piqued.
“Nice, but quiet,” the boy said. “He eats a lot. And he speaks Russian. Isn’t that cool?”
“It sure is,” Meryl agreed, stifling laughter.
“I’m trying to get him to teach me a few words. And I help him a little bit with his English.”
It seemed like a win-win situation, although Meryl still would have happily volunteered to be Nik’s English tutor. Before she could say anything else to the boy, Nik skated over in their direction.
“Hey, Bryson, are you having fun?”
“Are you kidding? This is great,” the kid said in response.
“We’ve been chatting a little,” Meryl said. “You have a big fan.”
For the first time, Nik looked at her. “Miss Johnson.”
“Call me Meryl, please,” she said. “Can I speak with you for a minute?” She watched Nik’s face for a hint at what he was thinking. A smile, a frown, something.
Instead, he merely shrugged. “Yes, okay.” He directed his attention back to the boy he’d called Bryson. “Why don’t you go down to the ice? I think Beck would like to show you something.”
“Are you serious?” the boy’s face lit up. “Wow.” He raced off excitedly, leaving Meryl alone with Nik.
Exactly how she wanted it.
“He seems to really look up to you,” Meryl said.
“Bryson is a good kid,” Nik replied. “He likes hockey, so I try to teach him things. What do you wish to speak to me about?”
The truth was Meryl simply wanted to get him alone. But she’d always been good at thinking on the fly, and this was no exception. “Exactly that,” she said. “The team’s efforts to grow and encourage youth hockey in San Antonio. My father put me in charge of a new project.” Okay, so that was technically a lie. She could change that. All she had to do was propose the idea to her father and he’d probably go along with it. “I’m hoping maybe you’re free for lunch today and we can get together to discuss the things you’re already doing and could be doing to get more local kids interested in the sport.”
Nik leaned forward against the board separating the ice rink from the seats. “Mr. Johnson assigned you this job? And he expects you to speak with me?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Meryl knew Nik couldn’t really say no. After all, her father was his boss. “Is practice over?”
“Yes, but I have to change and then take Bryson home,” Nik said. “I could meet you a little later.”
“That’d be fine.” This was too easy, Meryl thought. “Maybe an hour? Is that enough time?” She gave him the name of a popular restaurant on San Antonio’s Riverwalk.
“I will be there,” Nik said before skating off.
Meryl watched, admiring his form. Yes. Way too easy.
***
Bryson talked excitedly about practice the entire way home, making Nik glad he’d invited the young boy. He hadn’t set out to be a mentor for young hockey players, but missing his own brother as much he did, Nik enjoyed spending time with Bryson. Since Bryson usually played goalie, Nik figured the boy would welcome an opportunity to meet Beck, and sure enough, that was the main focus of the conversation.
After dropping Bryson off at the Crawford house, Nik went to meet Meryl Johnson at the restaurant she’d suggested. He’d never been there before, and Nik was pleased to learn it was a steakhouse. So many people in San Antonio liked Mexican food, but Nik’s taste buds were still adapting to the spicy nature. He much preferred a good steak.
“Thank you for coming,” Meryl said when he joined her at a sidewalk table overlooking the river.
A smile tugged at Nik’s lips. “Was it a choice, given your position and mine?” After all, she said her father sent her to speak with him and it was Mr. Johnson who paid Nik’s salary.
“Fair enough,” Meryl said with a nod. “I could have started with someone else on the team, though.” She waved a hand. “Why don’t we order and then we can discuss this more?”
Having worked up an appetite in practice, Nik was happy to oblige, ordering a ribeye steak with mashed potatoes and beans. He noticed Meryl ordered only a salad, making him wonder if the choice in the restaurant was more for his benefit.
“So why start with me?” he asked after their server had taken their order. “There are twenty-two other players on the team.”
“There are, yes. And when I went to the rink this morning, I wasn’t completely sure which of you I wanted to recruit for this venture,” Meryl said. “Then I saw how that young boy clearly looks up to you, and how close you seem to him.”
Nik nodded and took a drink of water. “Bryson is a good kid, and he reminds me a little of my brother, who is only two years older and also a hockey player.” He knew Aleksei hoped to follow Nik in pursuing his dream of playing professional hockey.
“What’s his name?”
“Aleksei. Alek,” Nik said.
“You must miss him a lot.”
“Yes, very much,” Nik said. “But this is my dream, playing in the NHL.”
“Why?” Meryl asked. “I mean, there’s a pro league in Russia and I’m sure you could make a lot of money there.”
Did she think it was all about money? Perhaps because she had so much, she did. “Sure, the Kontinental Hockey League is good, and pays well,” Nik said. “But the NHL is better and the money is less important. I want to play in the best league. And more opportunities are here, especially with an expansion team.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Meryl said, smiling. “Real opportunities to grow the sport in an area that may not know much about hockey. That’s why this is so important to my family and we’d like you to be involved in this new project as one of the brightest young stars on the team.”
Nik didn’t know whether Meryl was merely trying to flatter him or if she was sincere, but he certainly didn’t mind being called a bright young star. “What do you have in mind?”<
br />
“Mainly the sort of thing you’re already doing, like with the boy today, but I’m thinking on a larger scale, like youth hockey camps. Players on the team serving as coaches and teaching things to boys and girls trying to learn the game,” Meryl explained. “There might also be some charity aspects, like visits to the children’s hospital or area schools, but that’s more of the Foundation’s role, as where I’d be in charge of working to set up the camps and youth opportunities.”
Nik listened intently, impressed with the passion she showed for the project. “And you want me involved in this?”
“Yes, if you’re interested. No pressure, though.”
He wasn’t sure about the pressure part. Could he really say no? Not that it mattered. The opportunity she presented very much appealed to him. “And this would be business?”
“Yes, why?” Meryl smiled. “Did you think it was something else?”
Nik picked up his water glass again. Had he misread her intentions? “I was not sure, after last night. You wearing my jersey and all...”
“Oh, that.” Meryl laughed. “I hope I didn’t come on too strong.”
“Not at all. I just wondered...”
“If I might be interested in you personally?”
Nik looked at the table, feeling embarrassed. “I considered that.”
Meryl shook her head. “You’re certainly attractive and all, but my father has forbidden me from fraternizing with the players on his team.”
“Fraternizing?” Nik frowned. “I do not know that word.”
“Like associating. Spending time with. Hanging around,” Meryl said. “I’m not supposed to do that with you guys on the team.”
“Why? Does he think we would be a bad influence on you?”
Meryl let out a laugh, but it seemed to lack amusement. “No. He probably worries I might be the bad influence.”
“Oh.” Nik was grateful when their food arrived and he found himself staring at a thick, juicy steak. He still struggled with some English words, but food was the same in any language.
“So what do you say?” Meryl asked. “It’d be strictly business, I promise.”
Nik cut into the steak, finding it cooked exactly the way he liked it. He took the first bite before replying to Meryl’s question. “It’s a great idea. I’d be happy to help. Thank you for considering me.”
“Perfect.” Meryl’s face broke out in a wide smile. “I think we can do great things together.”
***
After lunch, Meryl headed to the nearby offices of RMJ Energy Corporation. With Nik’s participation in the youth hockey project now wrapped up, it was time to pitch the idea to her father. As she drove into the parking ramp, Meryl chuckled. Sure, she’d gone about things backward—proposing the idea to Nik before her father gave her the go ahead—but that would only make it harder for Rick Johnson to say no.
“I heard you were at the team’s practice this morning,” Rick said when Meryl got to his office. “Do you mind telling me what that was about?”
Sheesh, did the man have spies everywhere? “What, I’m not allowed to watch a hockey practice now?” Meryl couldn’t disguise the annoyance in her voice.
“I didn’t say that,” Rick removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I think it’s great that you’re taking an interest in hockey. If, of course, you are actually interested in the sport played on the ice.”
He definitely wasn’t subtle. “As opposed to what?” Meryl asked. “The sport of getting in the players’ pants?” She couldn’t deny that sport appealed greatly to her as well.
Predictably, her father sighed. “Please, Meryl, can you not be so crude?” he asked. “I’ve told you how I feel about you hanging around with the players. I’ve got a lot invested in this team, and I want their focus to be on hockey.”
“Yes, I know. You don’t want them distracted.” Meryl rolled her eyes. “I wish you had a higher opinion of me,”
“This has nothing to do with my opinion of you,” Rick insisted.
“Sure, whatever.” Meryl didn’t believe that for an instant, but she wasn’t there to argue. “Relax, my presence at the rink this morning was all business.” It was the second time she’d told that little white lie. “I have an idea. I think you’ll love it.”
His eyes narrowed in skepticism, but he nodded. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“You want to expand hockey in the San Antonio area. What better way to do that than with youth hockey camps sponsored by the team? I thought we could call it the ‘Young Generals’ program or something like that.” The name had just popped into her head, but it wasn’t bad. Way to go, Meryl. “The players could be involved as coaches, teaching the kids various hockey drills. It ought to be a pretty big draw to have the chance to learn from an actual NHL player.”
Rick nodded, and the slight hint of a smile appeared on his face. “I’d think so, yes.”
“And if the idea takes off, maybe we could start a similar program out in El Paso,” Meryl continued, referring to the Generals’ American Hockley League affiliate, the El Paso Aztecs.
“It’s ambitious. And only doable if the players are interested. It’ll never take off with a bunch of no-name coaches.”
“Oh, I’ve already taken care of that,” Meryl said and told him about her lunch with Nik Brantov. “He loves the idea, and let me tell you, he’s a natural with kids. I saw him this morning with the boy whose family he’s staying with. That kid adores Nik, and hockey. I’m sure he could be our fist sign-up, and he probably has friends.”
“That’s a start, then.” The smile on her father’s face widened a little. “I’m glad Brantov’s settling into the community and adjusting to life here. I’d hate to see him get disillusioned and defect to the KHL.”
“I don’t think that’ll happen,” Meryl said. “He wants to be here. And he wants to be part of this project. He’s going to try to get some of the other guys on board,” she told her father. “Assuming, of course, you give it the go ahead. And put me in charge of it.” There was the rub. Would he really trust her to do this?
“You’ve thought about everything, haven’t you?” It was hard to tell whether that pleased him or not.
“Probably not everything,” Meryl admitted. “But close to it, I think. So what do you say?”
“You’re one hundred percent committed to this?” Rick asked. “I can’t have you abandon the project the next time another idea flits into your head,” he warned. “That would do more harm than good.”
Meryl barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Must he always treat her like she was five? Or dismiss her as merely a flighty woman? “I know, and don’t worry. I’m all in on this.”
Her father leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands together. “I hope so, because I’d be placing a lot of trust in you.”
“So that’s a yes?”
Rick nodded. “That’s a yes.”
Meryl grinned. “Thanks, Daddy. I promise I won’t let you down.” She jumped up to give him a hug. After months of feeling all but invisible to her father, Meryl had a chance to make him notice her again, and in a positive way.
Chapter Four
Although Nik missed Russia and his family there, each day with the Generals helped him feel more at home in San Antonio. The guys on the team were great, and Nik felt privileged to play alongside them. Their inaugural season might be only one third over, but the team was already exceeding expectations. Attendance at home games was on the rise and some people were even beginning to toss around the ‘p-word.’ Playoffs. Being the superstitious sort, Nik preferred to take things one game at a time. Still, it was impossible not to get excited about the opportunities ahead of them.
One of those was the youth hockey project Meryl Johnson was starting. Although Nik was initially wary of Meryl and her intentions, once she’d explained her idea, he became easily persuaded. It was an honor to be the first person on the team she approached, and Nik welcomed any chance to help the sport o
f hockey gain popularity. As a young boy growing up in working class Russia, trouble wasn’t hard to find. But after witnessing a cousin lose his life to gang violence, Nik searched for an outlet, and hockey was it. He’d only been in San Antonio for about five months, but he knew gang violence was an issue in his new city as well. Perhaps hockey could be an outlet for other troubled boys, and if it could, Nik wanted to be a part of it.
He couldn’t do it alone, though, which was why he approached a couple of the guys after practice the next day. It wasn’t hard, since Beck was already curious about Meryl’s presence at practice and her desire to speak with Nik alone.
“Something going on we should know about?” Beck inquired. “She’s certainly a looker, but I’ve heard she’s trouble.”
Nik frowned. “Trouble how?”
Beck shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a little wild. And used to getting what she wants, of course. I’m sure that comes with the territory. Anyway, what’d she want with you?”
“A new idea for the team to get some local interest in hockey.Youth camps, to teach boys, and maybe girls too, basic hockey skills,” Nik explained. “I told her I would be involved.”
“Nice,” Beck said, smiling. “That’s something I can certainly support.”
“Does that mean you want to help?” Nik asked. “I cannot do it alone. Who would teach Bryson and other young goalies how to be the best?” When he put it like that, could Beck really say no?
“Ha, flattery will help every time,” Beck said with a laugh. “I’m in. I like Bryson and I’ll do anything to help future goalies.”
“Goalies are important, no doubt about that, but who’s going to teach these kids how to score?” Trevor Collison asked. “On the ice, I mean.”
Nik looked over to his linemate. “Me. And you, if you would like?”
Trev looked at him skeptically. “You want me? Seriously? More importantly, the big man wants me working with impressionable youth?”
Crossing the Line (Men of the Ice Book 2) Page 2