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“Okay, well, what do you think of the house?” Court asked, deciding a change of subject was a good idea. “I can call the listing agent and see about a lease if it’s what you want.”
“Six months for sure, and maybe a month-to-month for one or two more, if they’d be willing to do it,” Lana said. “If not, I suppose I could go back to my parents’ for the last month or so until school is done for the year.”
“You’re here from Chicago, right?” Court asked, remembering her mentioning it earlier.
“Yes, I’m subletting my apartment there through May, so I can’t go back until at least then.”
“Can I ask why you’re here?” Court began walking back toward the front door. “Unless I’m being too personal. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“I don’t mind.” Lana shrugged as they got into Court’s car to head back to her office. “I grew up here. When I left for college, I just never came back. I’ve been in Chicago ever since, but my father had a heart attack about a week ago, and my brother asked me to come home to help with things while he recovers. Which is why I’m working at the pizzeria with him.”
“What do you do in Chicago?”
“I’m second violin in the orchestra.”
“Wow,” Court said, wondering if she should be impressed, and figuring she probably should be. “How long have you been doing that?”
“Seems like forever. They were nice enough to grant me a leave of absence so I could be here for my family.”
“That’s great.”
Court saw Lana look at her out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t want to look back at her. She didn’t want to let on she knew nothing about orchestras. To Court, it had always been something for people with a lot of money, and she’d never been included in those groups.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” Lana said.
“I can’t,” Court told her, feeling more disappointed than she should. “I have a game tonight.”
“A game?” Lana was obviously confused, and Court tried to hide her smile. “It’s too late in the season for softball so, basketball?”
“Ice hockey.”
“No shit,” Lana said, sounding happy at the admission. “You play for the Warriors?”
“I do.” Court pulled into her parking spot outside of the real estate office and turned off the engine. She turned in her seat to face Lana. “But they haven’t existed very long, so if you’ve been in Chicago since college, how do you know about the women’s ice hockey team here in Kingsville?”
“Ever heard of something called the internet?” There was that smirk again, and Court was starting to like it.
“You know, I think I might have.” Court nodded, enjoying their easy banter.
“What time does it start? I might have to bring Eric to a game.”
“Seven tonight.” Court got out of the car and waited for Lana to join her. “I can leave tickets for you if you want to come. Eric is your son? He likes hockey?”
“Please, Eric loves hockey.” Lana laughed and bumped Court with her shoulder. “He lives and breathes Blackhawks hockey. He started playing when he was ten, and yes, he’s my son.”
“What position?” Court finally relaxed since they were now onto a subject she knew a lot about.
“Center.”
“Me too. You should definitely bring him to the game.” Court held the door open for Lana to go ahead of her into the reception area. “Should I leave tickets for tonight?”
“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all.”
“Court, Gail called, wants you to call her back,” said Rikki, the office receptionist.
“Thanks, Rikki,” she said as they disappeared into her office.
“Gail?” Lana asked. “The woman you were with last night?”
“She’s our coach,” Court answered with a nod. “Bill, the guy you were supposed to meet with this morning, is her husband.”
“So, not a girlfriend then?” Lana asked with a smile. Court felt her cheeks flush, and she looked down at the paper on the desk in front of her. She shook her head. “Good to know. Is there a girlfriend somewhere?”
“No,” Court answered.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Court whipped her head up and saw the smirk again. The one telling her Relax, I’m just teasing you. She sat back in her chair and held her hands clasped in her lap as she met Lana’s eyes.
“Depends on who you ask.” It was cryptic, but it was meant to be, and was apparently having the desired effect. Lana leaned forward and looked at her eagerly.
“Do tell,” she said.
“I have work to do,” Court said, putting an end to the inquiry. She smiled at the look of frustration on Lana’s face. “As much as I would love to spend the day talking with you, I have to call the agent who listed the house you want, and I have to call my coach back. How many tickets do you need for tonight?”
“Two,” she said, but hesitated. “Unless you’ll have dinner with me after the game. Then I’d need three so my mother would be there to take Eric home.”
“I’ll leave two,” Court said. “I always have dinner with Bill and Gail after games.”
“Oh. Okay. Maybe some other time, then.” Lana stood and walked toward the door. She stopped and looked back at her. “You’ll call me if the owners agree to the lease?”
“I will.” When she was gone, Court took a deep breath. What the hell was wrong with her? A beautiful woman asked her out to dinner, twice, and she turned her down. It was for the best, though, because Lana was going to be leaving again in a few months. While it might be fun to spend some alone time with Lana Caruso, she wasn’t really wired that way. Sure, a one-night stand was fine when she was going out to bars with her line mates, because it was the purpose of those particular excursions. Something told Court she wouldn’t be satisfied with a fling where Lana was concerned. And besides, Lana had a kid. Not something Court needed—or wanted—in her life.
Still, there was something about Lana she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She wasn’t anything like the women she usually met, and she was intrigued, for better or worse.
Chapter Four
Lana put her arm through Eric’s as they walked across the street toward the arena. She couldn’t believe he was fifteen and taller than she was, and she was by no means short at five foot ten. There weren’t a lot of people there, but it seemed to be a fairly decent-sized crowd. She pulled Eric toward the will-call window to pick up the tickets Court said she’d leave for them.
“Mom,” Eric said. “I can’t believe you’re bringing me to a women’s hockey game.”
“I know damn well you aren’t a chauvinist, so tell me why you’re acting like this. As I recall, it was the women in the Olympics who drew you in.” She knew it was more or less because the women were more successful than the men at the Olympic level, but still. Lana turned away from him to tell the woman at the window her name. A few seconds later, tickets in hand, they were entering the arena. “You think women can’t play hockey?”
“Mom,” he said, his voice taking on the whining quality she was really beginning to dislike. He looked around in case there was anyone there he might know, which was silly, really, because he’d just transferred to the local school two days earlier. “You know that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” Lana led him to their seats and they sat down. The arena was smaller than she’d expected and reminded her of the rinks Eric played in. The seats were metal benches, and the entire arena probably couldn’t hold more than three thousand people.
“It’s just a different kind of game is all,” he said with a shrug as he looked around at the people. “Less physical. Nobody fights or anything.”
“Eric, even the men don’t play as physical in the Olympics.” Lana turned her attention to the ice as the Warriors skated out for the start of the game. She’d hoped to arrive before warm-ups, but Eric had been finishing up his homework. She sm
iled when she saw a player with the name Abbott on her back. Number eight, which just happened to be Eric’s number. “Just give it a chance, all right?”
“Okay.” He sighed and watched the women skating. “Which one of them gave you the tickets?”
“Number eight,” Lana said.
“No way.” He was much more interested then, even though he tried to hide it.
“Yep,” she answered. “Courtney Abbott. Apparently, she’s the captain since she has that big C on her left shoulder.”
“Courtney Abbott?” he asked, whipping his head around to look at her. “Are you serious?”
“You know who she is?” Lana was surprised, but she never took her eyes off Court.
“Yeah, and you should too,” he told her. “She scored a hat trick in the gold medal game at the last Olympics. Jeez, Mom, you could have told me it was her.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“You’re going to introduce me after the game, right?” he asked, but he was now concentrating on the ice too, as they were about to drop the puck to start the game.
“If she has time, I will,” Lana promised, wondering how she hadn’t known who Court was. Now that she’d been reminded, Court had been all Eric talked about for days after the USA won the gold medal almost four years ago.
They were seated a couple of rows behind the team benches, and when Court came off the ice after her first shift, she sat down and then turned her head and looked right at them. Lana gave her a little wave and then noticed Eric smiling at Court. She elbowed him in the ribs good-naturedly.
Midway through the first period, the Warriors were changing lines on the fly, and Court got tripped as she was coming off the bench. Everyone in the arena got to their feet as the whistle blew. A man Lana assumed was the trainer came out on the ice to check Court, but she got up on her own. One of her teammates held on to her jersey because it looked like Court wanted to go after someone, and Lana didn’t blame her.
“Why aren’t they calling a penalty?” she asked Eric.
“Because it was her own teammate who tripped her,” he answered, pointing to a woman at the end of the bench who was laughing, but no one else was joining in. In fact, everyone else on the bench seemed to be inching away from her. “Number twelve. Hilton.”
Lana watched as Gail went to Hilton, grabbed the back of her jersey and pulled on it hard, then leaned down and said something in her ear. Hilton stopped laughing almost immediately, and then Gail shoved her forward as she released her jersey and walked away once again.
At least Court didn’t appear to be hurt, which was a relief. Everyone settled back in their seats as they got ready to start play again.
* * *
“If I were you, Abbott, I’d be teaching the rookie a lesson,” the center from the other team said to her as they both leaned in for the puck drop. They’d been teammates on the Olympic squad, and they’d become friends over the course of the time they’d played together.
Court just shook her head, not wanting to let anything but the impending faceoff occupy her thoughts. Her concentration was legendary, and she wasn’t going to let someone like Hilton take her off her game.
“She’ll get what’s coming to her,” Savannah said. “Trust me on that.”
Court took a deep breath and won the faceoff, passing the puck back to the defense as they skated up the ice. The puck got dumped in the zone, and Court raced after it, beating everyone to it behind the net. Her usual move was to pass it to the right, but she knew they were expecting it, so she passed left to Kelly. While the goaltender scrambled to get back into position, Kelly quickly passed it back to Court, who had moved to the opposite side of the net. Since everyone on the other team had readjusted their positions, she had a wide open net to shoot at, and she buried the puck in the back of the net.
The arena erupted in cheers—it didn’t hold many people, but they certainly were loud—as the other Warriors on the ice skated over to congratulate her. The players on the bench were standing and whacking their sticks against the boards in their own version of cheering for her goal.
The first period ended in a one-one tie, and Gail gave them all a pep talk in the locker room between periods. Court noticed no one was sitting anywhere near Hilton, and Gail never even looked in her direction. When the pep talk was done, Gail motioned for Court to come to her office. The team didn’t have a dedicated locker room, and the office was no different. It was shared with other coaches, so as a result, there was nothing personal on the desk or the walls. Court shut the door behind them and looked out the window, where Hilton was still being ignored by her teammates.
“I’m going to call the owner,” Gail told her. “I won’t put up with shit like this on my team. It’s bad enough she ran you into the boards in practice, but to purposely trip you during a game? In the middle of a line change with no stoppage in play? Not acceptable.”
“Why are you telling me and not her?” Court tried not to sound angry, but she wasn’t sure she was pulling it off.
“I did tell her, Court, but I thought you should hear it too. If I have anything to say about it, she won’t be suiting up for the Warriors again. And after the stunt she pulled, I wouldn’t be surprised if nobody in this league wanted her.”
“That would be a shame,” Court said, shaking her head. “Because I know a few people on this team who would love to introduce her to karma.”
“Get this team fired up, because I want to win a championship again this year.” Gail opened the door and motioned her out. Court wasn’t surprised Gail ignored her last comment. During the games, she was “coach” Gail, and not “friend” Gail.
She went and sat by her locker and used a towel to wipe the sweat from her face. As she tossed the towel back into the locker, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and saw Hilton standing behind her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, but it didn’t seem sincere to Court. No doubt she was only apologizing to try to get Court on her side, and to hopefully stay with the team. “It was an accident.”
Court chuckled. “I might have believed you if you hadn’t thrown the last part in.” Court stood and slammed the locker door shut. When she turned to face Hilton, she saw Savannah and Kelly heading toward them, but she put a hand up to stop them. “You and I both know it was no accident, so I suggest you keep your head up and stay the hell away from me. Whatever happens after the game is all on you.”
She hadn’t meant it as a threat, but realized it no doubt sounded like one. She’d simply been referring to the fact Gail was going to be calling the owner about what happened. It was obvious Hilton had taken it as a threat, though, because she turned away and stalked back to her own locker without another word.
The game was almost over and they were ahead three-two when Gail sent Hilton out for her only shift since the first period. Hilton almost had a breakaway, but she got caught with her head down in the neutral zone and was flattened by a vicious open ice check. She was down, and she wasn’t moving. At all. Court was the first one over the boards and held her arm out for the trainer, who wasn’t wearing skates.
She and Hilton pretty much hated each other, but for now they were on the same team, and Court would never turn her back on an injured teammate. She guided the trainer to Hilton and she stood there watching as he checked her out. The rest of the team stayed on the bench, and Court felt her anger rising. They should all be out there with her. Savannah could obviously tell she was pissed off, because she skated out and motioned for the rest of them to follow.
When Hilton finally got to her feet with the help of Court and the trainer, players on both teams hit their sticks on the ice, and the people in the stands cheered. Hilton gripped Court’s jersey tightly until they got to the edge of the ice, then she let go and met Court’s eyes.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Court nodded and skated away, knowing the trainer could handle getting her into the locker room on his own. She went back to the bench and
sat, and Gail walked behind her, giving her a squeeze on the shoulder.
They won the game three-two, and Court looked up to where Lana and her son were sitting. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but Eric was older than she’d thought he’d be. Lana held a finger up to him and started to walk down the steps to the bench.
“My son wants to meet you. Is that all right?” Lana asked. Court nodded and Lana waved him down. “Great game, by the way. Is Hilton going to be all right?”
“I don’t know,” Court answered as she removed her helmet and gloves. She kind of wanted to get back to the locker room to find out, but she also wanted to stand there talking to Lana. She was getting under Court’s skin, and she wasn’t sure why. “She was out cold for a few seconds, so I’m sure they’ve already taken her to the hospital.”
“Hi,” Eric said when he finally got to them. He looked nervous, but Court had no idea why he would be. “I’m Eric.”
“Court,” she said with a smile. She shook his hand and glanced at Lana, who was beaming. Seeing them standing side by side, there was no doubt he was her son. He had the same dark hair and brown eyes, and the same high cheekbones. “It’s nice to meet you, Eric.”
“I can’t believe I’m really meeting Courtney Abbott,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You were so awesome in the Olympics.”
“Thank you,” she said with a nod. “It was a pretty cool experience. Your mom tells me you play hockey too.”
“Yep, same position as you, and the same number too,” he said, but then his smile faded, and he shrugged. “At least it was my number in Chicago.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a team here to play with, and you can usually pick your number, as long as nobody else on the team has it,” Court told him.
“We should let you go,” Lana said with a hand to Court’s forearm.
“Okay,” she answered, feeling the disappointment. She really wanted to get to know Lana better, but figured asking her out with her son there might not be the best idea. She looked at Eric. “It really was good to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you again sometime.”