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CHAPTER8
Hockey news slammed through Ronan’s brain at the unusual name. Calista? Calista Amvehl? Possible new owner of the Snowers? She’d bought a ton of shares in one unexpected bulk purchase, and now the lawyers were getting rich sorting out the mess of terms. Ronan’s heart thumped against his chest in a bad rhythm. No, he had to be wrong.
He wasn’t.
His blonde dancer was an illusion. Calista Amvehl was the epitome of front office. The one beer he’d drunk lurched through his gut. His body urged him to back away as if he were being shoved toward the penalty box by two refs.
The dressing room door opened again. Despite his mistake, Ronan took Calista’s elbow and tugged clear of the swinging door, and Calista came straight to him with zero resistance. Ignoring the soft feel of Calista’s skin that urged him to curl his fingers inwards, Ronan dropped her arm.
Behind her, Dodo’s girlfriend, Willow, exited the dressing room. Willow wore a dancer’s puck costume though she wasn’t a dancer, and tank water dripped from her lean body. She was Dodo Donovan’s woman and a perfect example of the troubles that came with mixing business with pleasure. She was one of those women who liked to stir up problems where there were none. Give her this pond of drama and who knew what mess she’d twist up.
Willow eyed the three of them standing there in the dressing room corridor. “Calista.” Willow sounded neutral. Her gaze took in Calista’s wet hair, and she put her hands on her hips. “Who sent you? Dahlia or Piper?” Her voice hardened on the other women’s names.
“Neither.” Calista shifted from one sneaker to another and hugged her coat to her chest, concealing his number.
Calista’s answer didn’t reveal her end game. Why was she here at all? Was she currying favor? Getting off on sneaking around? Getting off on players? Oh shit. Ronan’s heart stopped. He needed exactly none of this. The front office could keep their fuss. Ronan’s career was on an upward trajectory, one that was about to get him traded back home to Washington. This was exactly the wrong kind of heat to throw onto his life.
“Just checking things out.” Calista’s answer was lame, but her voice was lovely.
Willow looked between her and the two men. “I suppose that makes sense. Anyone can come to these things, they’re not exclusive. We’re all here to increase the fanbase.” She laughed. “Unless you’re here to put forth one of Dahlia’s silly purity initiatives?” Her voice was full-on mocking.
Calista’s shoulders edged up. “Dahlia did ask me to check on the dancers’ new costumes.” She paused. “I agree with her, they don’t work.”
Willow’s dark eyes flared. “And you think you get an opinion, why?”
Hidden layer woman jabs were flying, and Ronan just wanted away from the drama; whereas Kiernan looked amused, like he couldn’t wait for the catfight to escalate.
Even back here, away from the main club, they were drawing attention. Two brunettes, nice-looking, but not dressed for the club scene or as hockey fans, joined them. One wore a wool suit with a high neck blouse underneath. She’d buttoned her rounded collar all the way up to her chin and had a sharp critical look in her eyes. The other he’d describe as quirky with her llama jacket over jeans. Neither was his type.
The llama-chick bounced up to Calista. “Found you.” She eyed Kiernan up and down. “Met you in Vegas.”
Calista turned to her friends. “This is Ronan.” Calista looked up at him and gestured first to the llama-wearer. “This is my friend, Vivien. She works with computers.” She pointed to the other woman. “Olivia, friend and attorney.”
Ronan hated how much he loved the sound of his name on Calista’s lips. She spoke like he was her favorite flavor of ice cream. He ran his hand through his hair. He was not doing this. He’d nod in greeting and jet out of there.
Willow put her hands on her hips and stepped forward, although the radius was already tight. “In case you forgot my name, I’m Willow.” She was pointing out that Calista hadn’t introduced her.
Vivien jerked her thumb toward the aquarium. “What a sea creature swamp. That was something.”
Had to agree with her there. Fishing on the Sound was one thing, here at a club, pulling up a mermaid that turned into a human-sized mistake—traumatizing. If Calista had ruined fishing for him, he’d be pissed, more pissed. Ronan controlled his breathing; he’d leave and not think of her again. He’d think of Washington, of going home.
His former GM had been reaching out more frequently. His stats were there and enough time had gone that Washington could ignore his past front office mistake. He couldn’t screw up now, not again, and definitely not in the same way by dating a woman in management.
“Great to meet two fans.” Willow gestured to Olivia and Vivien, and then turned back to Calista. Willow cupped her hands around the pucks concealing her boobs. “But I’m not one to be so easily distracted. These costumes are garnering zillions of likes on my social media.”
Vivien made a thumbs down.
Olivia touched her rounded collar. “They’re too on the nose.”
Willow tensed as the women didn’t shy away from disagreeing with her. Her gaze scanned the way the two were dressed. “You’re not exactly our target audience.” Willow huffed out a laugh and waved a dismissive hand at the trio. “Fashionably awkward, party of three.”
Huh.
Willow pointed at Calista. “I will be talking to Dodo about this.”
Vivien raised and lowered her hoodie’s zipper, flashing glimpses of a white one-piece swimsuit. “Calista is the owner, not Dodo Applebaum.”
Calista held up her palms in a slowdown motion.
