Page 22 of Icing on Top

He smirked and then took a sip of his drink. “It wasn’t a hard sell. There are so many reasons it’s a good idea.”

I just eyed him expectantly as I continued to enjoy my lunch, curious to hear his reasons. He shifted in his seat.

“From a business perspective, it gives me an upper hand compared to the other rinks. Their websites claim they’d have a women’s league if the interest was there, but I know there’s enough interest. You can’t tell me that as soon as our nineteen-and-under girls age out, they just stop playing hockey.”

I understood that I had been one of the lucky ones who continued to play throughout college, but that wasn’t the case for everyone. And just because they weren’t “good enough” to make it on the college team, didn’t mean they weren’t talented. They still deserved a chance to stay in the sport in some capacity.

“Personally, though, I like the idea of creating something that will be around for Charlie when she gets older. A safe place for her to continue her love of hockey without restrictions based on her gender.”

He made it really difficult not to have a crush on him when he said things like that. Jeremiah wasn’t just doing this to make more money. Every decision was clearly being made with Charlie at the forefront of his mind.

We quickly finished our lunch, and then Jeremiah retrieved his laptop, clicking a few times before meeting my gaze over the top of the screen.

“All right. How do you think we should go about advertising?”

“You said it yourself. I’d start with the nineteen-and-under teams and then the families of all the players who come here. Moms, sisters, and aunts that might be interested in playing.”

Jeremiah started taking notes. Once we got the ball rolling, we were spouting out idea after idea: getting word out into the surrounding community and beyond, providing jerseys and equipment if needed, and how to set up games. It was all base information now, and we’d get detailed later on, but it was a great place to start for having just hatched the idea a few days ago.

At some point during our planning, the rink had gone quiet. I’d forgotten about the figure skating lesson until there was a rap on the door, and we both turned to find the instructor in the doorway. She looked to be about in her mid-sixties, gray-streaked hair pulled back tight in a low ponytail. Everything about her screamed figure skater; her ramrod-straight posture, lithe limbs, and the fact that if I were standing, she’d barely come up to my chin.

“Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out. Would you like me to lock up behind me or are you expecting anyone else today?”

Jeremiah shook his head. “Anyone who needs to come in already has a key. Thank you, Linda.”

I waited until she had dipped back out of the office before I turned to Jeremiah, smiling mischievously.

“So the rink is empty?”

He eyed me suspiciously. “Yes…”

“What do you say to a rematch?”

It took a second to register, but then his grin matched my own as he pushed back from the desk. “What size skate are you?”

“I’ve got my gear in the car,” I said.

I always kept my bag in my trunk, even if we didn’t have practice. Thankfully, I’d been able to park close to the rink, so it took no time at all for me to grab it, Jeremiah keeping the door open for me.

“How are we doing this without Charlie?” he asked.

I pursed my lips. That did change things slightly. Half of the challenge had been shooting the puck past Charlie.

“Let’s switch it up. Different tasks since we tied last time,” I offered up as a solution. I had the practice cones in my bag, so we could easily set up puck-handling drills or obstacles. “We can do a backward skate race, one-handed cone weaving, and then a game of PUCKS if we’re still tied.”

“Deal.”

Was it the best idea to do a bunch of physical exercise after stuffing myself full of greasy food? No. It wasn’t. But I was far too competitive to care about that. The second the idea had popped in my head, there was no getting rid of it. At least if I blew chunks, Jeremiah would be right there with me.

“What do you say to a couple of warmup laps before the race?” He peeked over his shoulder at me as he finished tying off his laces with a firm knot. “I don’t need to pull something.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Jeez. We’re old, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, we are. As strong as you are, I don’t know if you’d be able to drag me off the ice if my hamstring locks up on me.”

While the lack of friction on the ice would allow him to slide across it easily enough, I also doubted my abilities to pull his six-foot-plus frame.

I didn’t realize how stiff I was until I got out there and started moving. After a few leisurely laps around the rink, I stopped by the boards to get some stretches in as well. You could never be too safe.