Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1) (19 page)

“I knew they wouldn’t wait long—they wanted their money—but I never thought they’d make the announcement without warning me so I could do damage control.”

“There’s no damage to control when everything’s been blown to pieces.”

“I need to talk to Lauren...” Ethan headed for the door, Brad hot on his heels.

“No time for that.” Brad grabbed his arm and yanked him around. “Get in that locker room. Give them the line we rehearsed.”

“I need to talk to Lauren.” He voice took on a desperate tone.

“You need to talk to the team, reassure them; I’ll do the same thing with the staff.”

Ethan nodded. As much as he hated it, Brad was right. It couldn’t be helped. Not one damn bit. They only had seconds before this thing blew up, if it hadn’t already. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, trudging toward the locker room while Brad trudged to the gallows in the opposite direction.

Drawing in a deep breath, Ethan strolled through the door, ready to do battle by presenting a calm, strong front in the face of adversity.

Several long faces glanced up at him as he entered. As a whole, each face hardened to stone and the hatred in their eyes set Ethan back on his heels, but now was not the time to demonstrate weakness. Coach stood in the center of the room, hands on hips.

Fuck, they already knew.

Ethan strode up to the man, careful not to step on the logo which now represented a team that no longer existed.

“Coach, I’m guessing you’ve told the team about our plans.”

Coach nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes angry. “I told them. They’re your team now. Good luck; you’ll need it.” He stomped from the room and slammed the door so hard the room shook.

Ethan turned back to the team, a pleasant smile on his face. “Hello, gentlemen...”

No one said a thing.

“I apologize for the deception, but I had to do it not by choice, but by necessity.

Not a word. They continued to glare at him.

“It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. I regret the announcement happened without careful planning.”

“Planning? Bullshit. You could take months to announce it, and the result would be the same.” Cooper’s blue eyes hardened to angry slits. His boys backed him up with similar angry expressions. Even good natured Cedric glared at Ethan.

“I’m not sure how much the coach told you, but I’m Ethan Parker, majority owner of this club, known as the Seattle Sockeyes from this point forward. My investors are all Seattle natives with a love for Seattle sports. We may not be hockey guys, but we have a passion to produce a winning team and start a legacy of hockey in Seattle that’ll make this team a contender year after year.”

“How the fuck are you going to do that?” Matt LeRue, one of the other team captains, said with a thick French Canadian accent that only came out when he was stressed or pissed off.

“We’re assembling the best support team possible and paying for the best players we can pay for under the cap. If you perform well, I promise you’ll be paid well.”

A couple of the guys leaned forward until Cooper shot them a murderous glare with pounds of threat in it. They stared at their feet and said nothing.

Cooper challenged him. “It’s not all about the money. Is it, guys?” Nods and murmurs of agreement accompanied his words.

“I understand. Everything will be first class. The practice facility, the staff, the coaches, the workout room, the food. Everything. No expense will be spared. We’ll be a progressive team—maybe our methods will be unorthodox, but all options are on the table as far as I’m concerned.”

“What about integrity and trust? Is that still on the table?” Cooper stood, hands on hips, legs slightly apart. His chin jutted out and his eyes shone with belligerence. Several other guys stood to show their support. Cedric and Matt flanked Cooper in a display of veteran support.

Ethan deserved that question, but he couldn’t admit it and show an ounce of weakness. Nor could he explain why he’d been deceptive. The league wouldn’t appreciate him spilling the beans about the gag order, and pissing off the commissioner would start his ownership off on the wrong foot.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice. We couldn’t chance announcing this before your season ended. I didn’t want to mess with the magic you had going here.”

Cooper rolled his eyes. “That’s fucking bullshit. You don’t give a shit about magic or us. You were thinking of the bottom line. The further we skated into the playoffs, the better it makes this team look to your investors and the new city. It’s all about the fucking money.”

Ethan didn’t see a point in continuing this conversation until the team had time to process what just happened, and Cooper had time to cool off. He swept his gaze around the room, calmly assessing each player. Some stared back in challenge, others stared at the floor.

“We’ll be in touch. Welcome to the Sockeyes’ organization. Give us a chance. Give Seattle a chance. You’ll love it there.” Ethan left before they could shoot him or his city down.

He was halfway down the hall when Cooper grabbed his arm. “What the fuck? I was beginning to consider you a friend. I was starting to trust you, but you used me.”

Ethan stared into Cooper’s eyes, filled with anger, hurt, and mistrust. “I wasn’t using you. I’m sorry I wasn’t straight with you. I couldn’t be. Give me a chance, Coop, to make this right.”

“The only way you can make this right is to get the fuck out of here and leave this team where it is.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Then you and I have nothing to discuss. Trade me.”

“I can’t do that either. You’re under contract for two more years. You are a Sockeye, like it or not.”

“I don’t fucking like it.”

“Tough shit.” It was Ethan’s turn to walk away after having the last word.

Cooper would come around eventually because when it came down to it, he just wanted to play hockey.

It was Lauren Ethan worried about. And he had to find her right now.

* * * *

Something was wrong. Horribly wrong, and it had nothing to do with losing the game. Lauren pushed her way through the throng of reporters crowded around Brad, hearing the word Seattle bantered about. Finally she tapped one national reporter she knew pretty well on the arm. He turned around to face her.

“Bob, what’s going on?”

“You didn’t know either? This had to be the best-kept secret in all of pro sports.”

“What secret? Bob, tell me now.” Her heart sank to her toes with dread.

“The team has been sold to the Puget Sound Hockey Alliance and is being moved to Seattle. It’s a done deal. The coach has been fired, and they’ll probably clean house with the remaining staff and coaches.”

“Puget Sound Hockey Alliance? Who are they?” She gripped his arm so tight he glared at her and yanked it away.
PSHA. Oh, crap.

“Bunch of wealthy Seattle investors headed up by billionaire Ethan Parker.”

“You mean Ethan Williams?”

“No, I mean Ethan Parker from one of the richest families in Seattle, and there’s a lot of rich guys in Seattle so that tells you a lot. The man has more money than God.”

“I didn’t know.” Lauren stuttered.

“Well, now you do. Hope you like rain, Lauren. Look, I have to file this story. Later.”

Lauren stood in a sea of humanity and never felt so alone. He’d lied to her. About everything. About his name, his intentions, his position with the team.
Everything
.

Not one thing he’d said to her had been the truth. He’d used her, played her for a fool, and hadn’t even had the decency to tell her about this himself.

Lauren ran for the exit, just needing to get out of there and as far away from Ethan as she could, but Ethan stepped from the shadows and stopped her. She stared at him, too angry to form a coherent word.

“Lauren, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you so many times. I really did.”

“Sure you did. You didn’t trust me. You thought I’d tell my father.”

“No, it’s not that. I do trust you.”

“Then you didn’t want to ruin a good thing. I gave you my honest opinion about the staff, players, and coaches. Are you going to use that against them?”

“Lauren, I won’t lie to you—”

“Well, that’s a welcome change.”

“Most of what you told me only verified my own conclusions. Things will change for the better. We’re committed to putting out a competitive product year after year.”

“You fired Coach.”

“I didn’t fire him. He quit.”

“He probably saw the handwriting on the wall.”

“He probably did, Lauren.”

“What about my dad? Is he gone, too?”

“I’d like to keep him. He’s one of the best scouts in the business.”

“There’s one person you don’t need to worry about firing. I quit.”

Ethan’s sad expression almost made her feel sorry for him. “You can’t quit; you signed a contract.”

“Under false pretenses.”

“Do you have the money to take me to court?”

Lauren didn’t, and the bastard knew it.

“I didn’t think so. See you in Seattle, Lauren.”

“Fuck you.”

He just smiled. “I don’t think that’s a good idea considering the new set of circumstances. I expect to see you at work in your new office two weeks from Monday. I’ll have my assistant contact you and the rest of the staff with information on housing and moving expenses.” Ethan strode off, his spine straight and his head held high.

Lauren just wanted to find a place to cry. She’d fallen for the jerk, and he’d screwed her over. It might not have been with another woman like it had been with Max, but this betrayal was just as painful and damaging. Actually, it was worse.

She’d never trust that man again. Ever. She’d work until her contract ended and not a minute more, take his money, pay off her debts, and somehow find another team willing to give a woman a chance.

Lauren walked out of the arena, hailed a cab, and went to the airport to fly back to Florida one last time before she left the sunshine for the rain.

Except it was already raining on her life and nothing but gray loomed ahead.

Chapter 14—Shootout

A few days later, Ethan sat in the league office across the table from the commissioner. To his right sat a very angry Cooper, who looked ready to start a brawl any second. The commissioner wore an annoyed frown, as if he didn’t understand why they were even having this conversation.

Ethan did. Cooper didn’t trust easily. Ethan had earned his trust then smashed it to pieces like a rare vase meeting its destiny on a concrete sidewalk. He’d shattered something too fragile to put back together, but business was business, and hockey was not just a passion, it was a business. Not just for Ethan, but for Cooper. Despite his anger and all the negative emotions surrounding the team’s move, Cooper was a Sockeye, like it or not. The commissioner sat back in his huge chair and sighed. “The league insists you go to Seattle, Cooper. You don’t get a vote in this. Your only other choice is to sit out next season.”

Cooper shot an angry glare at Ethan, obviously blaming him for this power play. “You wouldn’t do that.” He addressed Straus.

“I would. Try me.” The commissioner showed some major cajones to cross Cooper Black like that. Surprising.

Cooper’s eyes narrowed. He flicked his gaze to Ethan, who sat in the corner and let the commissioner do his job. “Fine. I’ll go to Seattle. But I’m not liking it one bit. I always leave my blood and guts out on the ice, and that won’t change, but don’t expect anything off the ice.”

“I’m paying you to win hockey games. Those are my expectations.” Ethan raised an eyebrow, playing the part of the badass owner, even as it ripped him to shreds inside to see the damage he’d done to Cooper, a man he held in the highest regard.

Cooper’s eyes narrowed to slits of ice blue fire. “You have my word as a professional. That’s more than I can say for you.”

Ethan didn’t defend his actions. They weren’t exactly defensible. “That’s all I can ask.”

Cooper cast one more murderous glare at Ethan and the commissioner and walked from the room. The door clicked shut softly behind him, which said more than any slamming door ever would.

* * * *

Seattle.

Land of rain and gray skies.

But right now it wasn’t gray or raining. It was a gloriously sunny June day in the seventies, showcasing snow-capped mountains, blue water, and vibrant green hills. Green everywhere as far as Lauren could see. She’d never seen so much green in her life. Ever. The evergreen trees hid the homes on the hills, giving the distinct impression that except for the downtown area and the horrendous traffic, no one lived here.

But they did.

Seattle was a large metropolitan area and had the snarling traffic to prove it.

There really were Starbucks on every corner, and people dressed like function took precedence over fashion—she really wondered about that part. She’d read an article once that Seattle was the worst dressed city in the nation. Now she believed it.

Lauren settled Horace into their large apartment overlooking Lake Union, courtesy of the Sockeyes. He’d made the trip with her after his family moved out of her old apartment building and left him homeless. Convinced Horace was as happy as any grouchy cat could be, she headed to their temporary headquarters near the old arena at Seattle City Center, the team’s home away from home until the new arena was completed a few blocks away.

Half the staff didn’t make the trip, but Ethan gave them generous severance packages; even Lauren had to admit being impressed. He’d done everything he could to make the transition as smooth as possible for the remaining staff. Unfortunately, that remaining staff avoided her except for Kaley. Her father didn’t make the trip. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to Lauren since an accusing conversation the day after the announcement. She didn’t believe he’d actually quit yet and heard Ethan offered him an embarrassing amount of money to stay on until they could replace him.

The new coaching staff had been hired only a few days after the
takeover
, as she’d come to think of it. The new coach had been an assistant and winner of three Cups. Lauren knew of him, as he was young, fiery, and progressive. Everything Ethan wanted in a coach, and so was his staff. The new GM was also young and innovative. This group didn’t do anything by the book, and under any other circumstances, Lauren would be tempted to stay.