“You don’t mean that,” Nik said.
“Unfortunately, I do.” Meryl sighed. “I hope I’m not giving you a bad impression about the man who signs your paychecks. My father’s a good man, for the most part. Just controlling and with some outdated ideas. It doesn’t matter, though, because I won’t fail.”
“No, you won’t,” Nik agreed. “Because I will do anything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
He spoke with determination, and Meryl didn’t know whether it was due to confidence in her, or in himself. Either way, she liked it. She liked him. “Exactly the reason I wanted to work with you,” she said, though it was far from the only reason.
She reached for her soda and took a drink, then looked out at the river. It was getting late, with less people around. Even the Riverwalk-crazed tourists had to go to bed sometime. Meryl, though, didn’t want the night to end quite yet. “Do you want to go for a walk after we finish eating? It’s such a nice night and I don’t want to go home.”
Chapter Six
He’d called her bold the first time he met her, and Meryl continued to live up to the word. Instead of being surprised or put off, though, Nik found it appealing. His dating experience in the past was limited to shy, quiet girls, and although they were sweet, and often very pretty, something was lacking. It was hard to envision them putting up with the life of a professional athlete. As an NHL player, he had opportunities with women on the opposite end of that scale. Definitely not quiet, but only interested in one thing. Or maybe two. Sex and money. Meryl, on the other hand, seemed to fall squarely in the middle, which appealed to him.
She was far from shy or quiet, but also not brazen or cheap. She certainly wasn’t interested in his money, since her family had more than Nik would ever earn in his career, no matter how successful it might be. It was hard to tell exactly what Meryl’s intentions were, but at the moment, Nik didn’t care. He didn’t want to go home yet, either.
“A walk sounds nice,” he said, signaling to their server for the bill.
“I can get this,” Meryl said.
“No. I invited you, and you paid for lunch last time.” It was a silly argument to have, and thankfully she dropped it, allowing him to the pay the bill. If that made it seem like a date, Nik didn’t much care.
“Thanks for agreeing to walk with me,” Meryl said as they left the restaurant. “A lot of San Antonio natives think it’s too touristy here and try to avoid it. I like being by the water, though. I should probably live on a beach someday.”
She could no doubt afford a beach house, or more than one, but Nik didn’t say as much. “It is nice here,” was all he said, and reached for her hand. It was instinctive. After all, he walked along a river with a beautiful woman after they’d eaten a good meal together. It had ‘date’ written all over it, in spite of Mery’s proclamations that her interest in him was strictly business.
Instead of pulling her hand away, she linked her fingers through his. It felt nice, natural. And definitely not like business. “Is there water where you’re from?” Meryl asked. “Rivers, lakes, beaches?”
“Irkutsk is not far from Lake Baikal,” Nik said. “The biggest freshwater lake in the world.”
“And it’s not always frozen?” Meryl asked, causing Nik to chuckle.
“No, despite what people think when they hear Siberia, it’s not as cold in Irkutsk as other parts of Siberia. Quite mild in spring and summer. The Angara River is nearby, as well as the Irkut River,” Nik explained. “So if you like water, you might like it there.”
“It does sound different than what I thought Siberia was like,” Meryl said. “Do you miss it a lot? Is it hard being so far away?”
“It’s hard being away from my family, especially this time of year,” Nik said. “I would like to bring them here, but my mother is stubborn.”
“So was mine,” Mery replied softly. “Maybe it’s a mother thing.”
Nik noticed she referred to her mother in the past tense. “Was? Is she deceased?” It occurred to him how little he actually knew about the team owner, other than he’d made his fortune in oil and alternative energy and brought professional hockey to central Texas. And he had a very beautiful daughter.
“Yes. Two years ago.”
Nik gave her hand a squeeze. “I understand it’s difficult, because I’ve lost my father. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, sensing that maybe she did. “If not, we can just walk.”
***
Just walking sounded good to Meryl. She liked the feeling of her hand linked with his as they strolled along the Riverwalk in moonlight. It was close to midnight now, with all of the stores and many of the restaurants closed, and the crowd of tourists mostly retired to their nearby hotels. There was something peaceful about being here at night.
“Early onset Alzheimer’s,” she said after a minute. As much as she wanted to simply walk, she also needed to talk. She’d kept her feelings locked up for too long. “I was a later baby. My mother was almost forty when I was born, and I don’t think they really expected me. But here I am.” Meryl choked back a laugh. She’d never been sure her father truly wanted her. After all, he already had Matt. Did another child simply complicate the estate plan?
“I was always close to my mother,” she continued. “My father, not so much. I took it hard when my mom got sick a few years ago and eventually died. You could say I rebelled. And then my dad met and married my stepmother, and that really pissed me off.” Sure, she’d been selfish, not to mention immature, but did that justify what he’d ultimately done? Meryl didn’t think so.
“You don’t like her, then?”
“Ronnie, my stepmother?” Meryl laughed. “No, not really. But if she makes my father happy, I guess I can live with that.” Or try to.
“But it isn’t always easy,” Nik said.
“Not at all, no.” She found herself wanting a change of subject. “What about your father? How did he die?”
“He killed himself.”
Meryl sucked in a breath. She may have wanted a change in subject, but didn’t expect that and had no idea how to respond. “Oh, I...”
“Not literally, as in shooting himself or anything,” Nik continued. “But like many people, he abused his body. He liked his vodka and his cigarettes, and they took his life too young. Leaving my mother with two boys to raise on her own.”
“I’ve never met your brother, obviously. If you’re any indication, though, she’s done an admirable job.”
“You’re kind to say that. I try very hard to succeed, and I want only the best for Aleksei,” Nik said. “There’s violence back home. Gangs, drugs...”
“We have that here too,” Meryl said. “That’s one reason why I want to make this project work, give more kids an outlet, whether it’s hockey or some other sport. Preferably hockey, though,” she added with a laugh.
“I feel the same way. Preferably hockey. It was always my outlet, as you put it. I want the same for my brother.”
“He plays as well?” Meryl asked.
Nik nodded. “Yes. He might be better than me.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” She smiled. “I mean, I know I’m a woman and all, but I know a fair bit about hockey.”
“Yes, you obviously do, which is why your project will succeed, and why I want to help,” Nik said. “It’s getting late, though, and I should probably take you back to your car.”
“Yes, probably.” In spite of the late hour, Meryl still didn’t want the night to end.
***
It was the right thing to do, taking Meryl back to her car, but as Nik pulled up next to hers in the now-empty parking lot of the arena, he found it difficult to say good night. He’d clearly underestimated her. Yes, she was rich and beautiful, but that didn’t mean everything always came easy to her. She’d suffered plenty of hurt, some of which she still seemed uncomfortable talking about.
“Well, here we are,” Nik said.
“Yes. Here we are.” She made no move t
o exit the car, as if she didn’t want to say good night, either.
“It was nice talking to you.” It occurred to Nik that they’d spent very little of the night actually discussing her project for the youth hockey camps, yet that suited him just fine. He’d enjoyed everything about the time he spent with Meryl.
“Yes, I agree. Very nice.” She still didn’t reach for the door handle.
“So, um, have a good Christmas,” Nik said.
“Yes, you too,” Meryl replied. “What are you doing?”
“Not much. Just spending the day with Bryson and his family.” It wasn’t what he’d prefer, but it was his life now. “He’s very excited to open his presents, and I have a special one for him.”
“That’s sweet,” Meryl said. “What about the night before?”
“No plans. The Crawfords have everything planned for Christmas morning. At home, we used to have a big dinner on Christmas Eve, so this will be different.” He didn’t add that Christmas Eve in Russia was the sixth of January. That might be too much to explain when it was already past midnight and they sat in a car in the otherwise empty parking lot of the arena.
“It’s difficult, I’m sure, being so far from home.”
Nik nodded. “Yes, but it’s what I chose.” All dreams came with a price. His was leaving his family behind in Russia.
“Still, it can’t be easy,” Meryl said, then her face lit up. “Why don’t you come to my house for dinner tomorrow?”
“What?” Nik wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
“Come to my house for Christmas Eve dinner,” she repeated. “You can get to know my father better, and meet the stepmonster.” She smiled. “And spend more time with me, of course.”
Only one of those things appealed to Nik. “Are you sure? Your father...”
“Doesn’t control me,” Meryl said. “Besides, it’s business, right?”
“Yes, business.” So why did it feel like anything but? “That probably means I should not kiss you good night.”
“Probably,” Meryl admitted. “Although I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
Since it seemed to Nik like an invitation, he leaned over and touched his lips to hers, finding them soft and smooth, and her scent alluring. He limited it to a single kiss, though. A sweet, gentle peck, in spite of wanting more. They were already flirting with trouble. “Good night, Meryl. I guess I will see you tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Good night, Nik.”
Chapter Seven
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Meryl,” Daddy Dearest informed her the next day.
“What do you mean, Father?” she asked, smiling innocently. She knew exactly what he meant. Caring was another matter.
His eyes rolled upward as he clicked in his tongue in an exaggerated fashion. No, he wasn’t buying her clueless act. “Inviting Nikolai Brantov to our home for Christmas Eve dinner. I wish you wouldn’t have done that.”
“Why? Don’t you want to get to know him or your team better?” Meryl countered. If he didn’t, she certainly did. Though he remained an enigma in many ways, early impressions told her the more she knew about Nik, the more she would like them. He had good manners. He was kind and respectful. He worked hard and loved his family. And although the gentle peck in the car last night wasn’t necessarily a lot to go on, he appeared to be a good kisser.
“It’s not that and you know it.” Rick sighed. “My concern is how well you might be getting to know him. I’d rather not have another Jensen Dawes situation all over again. Brantov’s become a key player for our team, and I’d like him to be wearing a Generals uniform for the foreseeable future.”
As much as she tried to respect her father, Meryl couldn’t help but become annoyed every time he mentioned Jensen’s name. The annoyance shifted to anger when he brought up Nik’s importance to the team. Yes, it was always about the damn team. The hell with her feelings or her well-being. No. They weren’t important. Her father wanted to avoid a repeat of the Jensen situation because it might be bad for the team. As if he hadn’t brought that all on himself by being an egomaniac and a control freak?
“You control how long Nik is here, much like you control everything else. Or try to,” Meryl said coolly. “I’d rather not go through anything like that again, myself.” Sure, she’d been young and reckless, and admittedly rebelling a little bit. And no, Jensen probably wouldn’t have turned out to be the great love of her life. Still, her father’s actions crossed the line of a parent looking out for his child, as he liked to claim, into the territory of being a controlling, overbearing asshole.
It secretly gave Meryl a small amount of satisfaction that Jensen won a championship with Memphis while the once-mighty San Antonio Renegades disbanded a season after the trade that had soccer experts all across the country wondering exactly what Richard Johnson had in mind when he traded away the league’s leading scorer for a draft pick he never got to spend and a career bench player.
When he vowed to bring NHL hockey to the Alamo City and won the NHL-expansion sweepstakes, sports pundits stopped laughing at Rick Johnson. When the Generals drafted Nikolai Brantov with the first overall pick, people took notice. And when he acquired Colton Tremblay from the Montreal Canadiens before the start of the season, Rick Johnson was a genius again. No one who mattered talked about the Jensen Dawes debacle anymore.
That didn’t mean Meryl had forgotten the man with the hazel eyes and disarming smile who’d made her feel something close to whole again after her mother’s death. It didn’t mean that she’d stopped wondering about what might have been had her father not stepped in with his grand plan to control her life. So to hear him now lament what happened to his damn sports team—what he did to own his team—pissed her off.
“And I hope someday you’ll understand I was only—”
“Acting in my best interests,” Meryl interrupted with an exaggerated eye roll. “Yeah. Got it. Heard it before.” It didn’t make it true. “Maybe you should put that line on a T-shirt and sell it on eBay.”
“Some day you’ll thank me,” her father said, causing her to let out a guffaw of laughter. Yeah, right. He could keep on telling himself that if it made him sleep better at night.
“No. Some day you will thank me,” she countered. “And hopefully that day comes very soon, after I make a great success of the new Generals youth hockey initiative.” Maybe then he’d have to praise her. “To do that, though, I need the help of Nik and the other guys on the team. I’m more apt to get that if they like it here. If they like playing for you. If they want to make this franchise a success.” Meryl smiled sweetly, though every bit of it was forced. “You can go a long way toward that happening by making your star winger, who is currently six thousand miles away from his family, feeling welcome at Christmas. You know, if you can quash your desire to control everything about my life for long enough to appear civil tonight. It’s not like an extra place setting is a big deal, since your lovely wife has the servants do everything anyway.” She didn’t bother adding that her mother always made the holiday meal herself. There was no need to twist the knife that much. In spite of this faults, and they were many, she knew her father had loved her mother.
***
“Is she your girlfriend, Nik?” Bryson sat on Nik’s bed, watching him get ready for Christmas eve with the Johnsons.
“No, not at all.” Nik faced the mirror while he knotted his tie. “The daughter of my team owner, and we’re working on something together.” It was a reasonable enough explanation, and basically true, although everything about Meryl’s scent and the softness of her lips as they connected with his, lingered with Nik since the night before. He was still unsure of the exact nature of Meryl’s interest in him, but he knew his was no longer limited to business. Unfortunately, he didn’t know what to about it.
“And you can’t tell me what you’re working on?”
Nik shook his head. “Not yet, no. Soon.” The hints he’d dropped about the project had heightened
the boy’s curiosity, but Nik wanted to keep things quiet until he gave Bryson his present the next morning. He’d hopefully have a chance to discuss some details with Meryl tonight, since they’d never gotten around to it the night before.
Nik put on his wristwatch and picked up his keys from the dresser. “Okay, I have to go,” he told Bryson. “I will see you in the morning, and I have a surprise for you.”
“All right.” Bryon grumbled a bit as he got up. “Maybe I’ll go to bed early and tomorrow will come sooner.”
“Maybe,” Nik said with a chuckle as he slipped on his suit jacket. He hoped Christmas was everything the young boy wanted it to be.
The Johnson estate was located to the east of San Antonio, and as Nik drove through the gates and approached the main house, he let out a gasp. He was a kid from working class Russia who’d just earned a two million dollar entry contract in the NHL. It was far more money than he’d ever dreamed of as a young boy, and would buy him a good-sized house in a nice part of the city. And yet it was pocket change to a man like Richard Johnson.
Tennis courts. A small golf course. A guest cottage—at least Nik assumed it was a guest cottage—probably two times the size of the home he grew up in. He counted eight garage stalls as he slowed the car. For a second, he considered turning around and leaving. He might be a professional hockey player, but he suddenly felt out of his league. Whatever thoughts he had after kissing Meryl last night, he better get over them quickly, because he was clearly no competition for her.
She’d invited him, though, so he stopped the car and exited. Thank goodness he’d had the sense to dress up. He pressed the bell and waited, thinking he probably should have brought something with him, but what? He wasn’t even old enough to buy wine in the United States and he doubted Meryl was old enough to drink it. Besides, there was probably a wine cellar in this place with bottles that cost more than Nik’s last game check. Yes. Completely out of his league.
Crossing the Line (Men of the Ice Book 2) Page 4