Calling the Shots. Ellen Hartman
the call. “John’s trying to set up a meeting for you and Tim’s mom.”
“Only the mom?” Bryan asked.
“I haven’t seen a dad.”
“Is she divorced? What’s the kid’s sign-up sheet say?”
Danny bent and tugged at a worn piece of sealant on one of the rubber floor tiles. “That’s confidential. I can’t discuss it with someone who’s not on the league board.”
“Quit trying to recruit me for the board.”
“You know damn well I’m really trying to recruit you to coach.”
When a client wanted to cancel an order or make a return after the contract date and Bryan had no intention of either pissing the client off or letting them go, he had a special voice he used. It was equal parts empathy and firmness. I hear you, but you’re out of luck. He tried it on Danny. “I understand the shortage of qualified coaches, but I don’t have the time to take on an additional responsibility.”
“Bullshit,” Danny said. “Don’t give me that salesman crap. You never miss her games. You could work it out—get a decent assistant coach and you’d be all set.”
He couldn’t believe Danny was bugging him about coaching. It was so obvious he was doing a bang-up job as a dad, why not give him another dozen or so kids he could mold and shape? He could squeeze the disciplinary hearings with the board in around practice.
“I had the pleasure of playing for my dad, Danny. I’m not going to inflict that on Allie.”
“You’re not your father,” Danny said. “And Allie’s not you.”
“Forget it. She loves playing. I’m not bringing any of that James Family professional hockey crap out there and polluting her game.”
He connected with Allie over hockey and at this point in their lives, that was it. He wasn’t going to risk messing that up.
“You seriously think you’d ruin the fun for her? You’d be a good coach precisely because you know how wrong it can turn out.”
“It’s not going to happen,” Bryan said, hoping to end the conversation. “What’s the mom’s name again?”
“Clare,” Danny said. “Clare Sampson. She does some thing with computers.”
That seemed to fit with the little he’d seen of her. Last night she’d been controlled, maybe cold. No…not cold. Tough. She’d been ready to take him on, her pointed chin and sleek hair contrasting with big brown eyes she hid behind those smart-lady glasses.
“She wasn’t backing down last night, was she?”
“She doesn’t seem like the backing-down type.”
Would she be willing to meet him? His pulse kicked up again almost as hard as it had been going when he was on the ice. What the hell? He recognized the feeling—the anticipation of looking forward to seeing a hot woman—but he hadn’t felt this way in years.
He shouldn’t be feeling that way now because there was no way he thought Clare was hot. Haughty, more likely. Aloof. Convinced his kid was some kind of thug. Nowhere in that package was there room for anticipation.
Except he’d really liked the way her hair shone, so perfectly smooth and silky where it swept her neck. And there’d been something about how she looked at Tim that made him imagine if she might know what he was talking about if he shared his worries about Allie.
The glass doors from the lobby opened and John Langenforth walked in.
“Bryan,” he said. “Danny.”
Bryan had grown up with John. He’d been the instigator of more locker room shenanigans than any two kids combined, and was still the only player in the history of the Twin Falls League to draw a penalty for mooning a ref while the puck was in play. After college, he’d come home and worked himself up to afternoon deejay for the local classic-rock station. John was also the president of the Twin Falls Youth Hockey board.
Three minutes ago, Bryan would have taken an oath that John was incapable of being serious. Judging by the expression on the other man’s face now, he’d have been wrong.
John unzipped his Twin Falls Hockey parka. “I guess you know why I’m looking for you.”
Bryan nodded.
“I’m sorry we’re in the middle of this mess, Bryan. But now that the fight’s been reported, the board has to address it. The national organization has a bullying policy and we could lose our standing. I want you to know we’ll do everything we can to help Allie.”
Bryan nodded, more than uncomfortable with his friend’s implication. “I understand.”
And he did, too well. John’s son was on Allie’s team and he wasn’t the only parent counting on her to get the team to the state tournament. He still remembered John’s delight when he found out Allie wouldn’t be able to play on the select travel team this season. The supposedly blind draft had somehow landed Allie on a team with John’s kid and the sons of two other board members.
Antibullying policy or not, there was little chance John was going to drop Allie from the roster. This kind of blatant favoritism was one of the reasons Bryan had wanted her on the select team in the first place. She’d have been one of the better kids on that team, but she wouldn’t have been the big fish she was in the Twin Falls pond. He couldn’t have her cultivating unrealistic ideas about her talent. That was what led him straight to the end of his playing days.
“Danny told me he suggested mediation and the board talked it over this morning. We agreed that if Allie and Tim complete mediation, she can stay on the team.” John wasn’t able to meet his eye when he added, “If they don’t go for the mediation, we’ll have no choice but to deactivate Allie’s membership in the league.”
Kick her out was what he meant. John couldn’t bring himself to say the words so clearly, but that was what he meant.
“But no reason to consider that,” John said. “Allie will manage this if she has to, right?”
Suddenly, he couldn’t take them looking at him.
“Call me when you have the meeting set. I’ll be there.” He made a show of checking the scoreboard clock. “I have to head out. Appointments.”
John cleared his throat. “Actually, Tim’s mom is on her way here. Danny told me you were on the ice so when she said she had time, I figured we might as well lock it down. We can reschedule if we have to, but Allie can’t practice until this is settled.”
Bryan looked out the doors toward the lobby. Of course Clare wasn’t here yet. She couldn’t have gotten here so fast.
He wished he’d had time to plan what to say, but maybe this was better. Clare was brand-new territory for him. He could keep lying to himself or he could admit that he found her attractive. She was different from the other women he knew, self-contained and a little fierce. With the divorce finally sinking in those instincts he’d buried for so long were waking up again. It didn’t matter why he was attracted. He had to ignore it, end of story.
The important point was that Allie could play hockey if Clare went along with mediation. Persuasion was familiar ground at least; he was more than used to sales. Needing her cooperation and wanting her complicated the situation. Next time Allie decided to pick on someone, he certainly hoped the kid’s mom wasn’t cute.
“I’ll go change.” He lifted his hand, nodded at the other two and turned away. He felt their eyes on him as he walked around the edge of the ice to the locker room door. He’d come to the rink to leave his frustrations on the ice and instead everything and everyone had come crowding in with him.
He unbuckled his knee brace and let it slide to the floor while he rested against the cinder-block wall behind him. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. He typed in Allie’s