AGAINST THE ICE

Chapter32

I STOOD IN MY OFFICE, at the window, watching the practice below. I should be at my desk working, but I couldn’t seem to pull myself away from watching Max skate. A week had passed since the gala and I hadn’t seen Max other than from watching him in practice.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass.

Why couldn’t I get Max Logan out of my brain?

No matter how hard I worked to avoid him, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

A knock on my door pulled me back to reality.

“Rory?” Dad and a young woman stood in the doorway. “Rory, this is Andrea. She’s from Digital Dream.”

My mind was blank. “I’m sorry, did we have an appointment?”

Dad cleared his throat. “Andrea tells me that you are doing the final sign off for the outfits for one of our players?”

“For what?” I asked in confusion.

Andrea’s expression was perplexed. “I’m sorry. They told me that this was a formality.”

I sat down on the couch and motioned for her to join me. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

“We are putting together a photo calendar of Canadian hockey players from the NHL. All proceeds go to a charity that supports women in need. Katrina reached out to us and asked if Max Logan could be part of the calendar and naturally we were thrilled.”

Dad sat across from us with his arms crossed.

I spoke slowly. “This is the first I’ve heard of it, but it sounds like a good cause.”

“It’s an almost cause. Last year we raised enough money to keep the doors open for eight women’s shelters across the country for twelve months.”

“That’s very impressive. What do you need from me?”

“I need you to sign off on the outfits for Max. Our policy is to get approval from the GM or assistant GM.” She handed me the file. “These are the possible outfits that we would like him to wear. He’ll be the month of December, which is quite an honor since that is our most popular month.”

My eyes widened as I took in the three proposed sketched outfits. The first was a sketch of black underwear and a pair of skates.

The second sketch was nothing more than a white sports towel around the waist.

The final sketch showed that he’d model naked except for a helmet strategically held in front of his private parts.

I looked up at Andrea with concern. “Where are the clothes?”

Dad coughed, covering his laughter.

“Max would be positioned so that his photo would remain tasteful. This isn’t Playboy, this is a charity calendar.”

“Max approved this?”

“Katrina approved it.”

I stalled. “Has Max seen these?”

Dad reached forward and grabbed the sketches. The smile on his face grew. “He’ll do it.”

“What?” I lifted my head. “Don’t you think we should confirm with Max?”

“Nope. He’s in.”

“That’s amazing.” Andrea stood up. “The photoshoot is on Friday and Katrina said she’d attend with Max. We really appreciate this.”

Dad stood up and shook her hand. “It’s my pleasure.”

After she left, I turned on Dad. “Why did you approve that? I don’t think Max has seen those sketches.”

“I know he hasn’t.”

“Why is this funny to you?”

“Rory, you’re the one who said you wanted him to win the public over. This is for a good cause.”

“Not like this!”

“The guy needs to learn that we have rules. This should have been approved.”

“That’s a Katrina issue.”

He ignored that fact. “One more thing. I don’t want Katrina to attend this photo event.”

“Why not?”

“Because she has an agenda with Max and I don’t like it.” His voice sounded thoughtful. “You go with him instead. Let them both know.”

“Dad!”

The last thing I needed was to see Max naked wearing nothing but a towel.

Dad stood up. “I gave my word, so make sure Max takes part. That’s an order.”

I sagged back against the couch. God help me.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” Max sat in front of my desk, holding the sketches like they were contaminated.

“Those are you proposed outfits for the charity calendar you signed up for.”

“Like f**k I did.”

Katrina leaned towards Max and put a possessive hand on his big forearm. “Max, remember the woman’s shelter project?”

His eyes widened. “You said I’d be wearing a uniform.”

“I said you’d be in a variation of a hockey uniform.”

He sounded incredulous. “This dude is holding a helmet in front of his junk. That is not a f*****g variation.”

“I think you’ll be sensational.”

He tossed the sketches on my desk. “This is bullshit. Pull me out.”

My voice was dry. “It’s for a great cause.”

Accusing blue eyes lifted to my face. “You approved this? Without asking me?”

“The GM approved it. He believes in the cause, and he wants you to do this.”

“Tell him I want out.”

“He wasn’t asking.”

Max ran a hand over his face. “f**k me.”

“Max,” Katrina coaxed in a soothing voice. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be there to walk you through every step.”

There were days I hated my job, but right now I was enjoying myself. Too much.

“Katrina, the GM has requested that you don’t attend this event with Max.”

Katrina’s eyes went wide. “No. I set this up. This is my project. Max needs my support. I have to go.”

“Those were his orders.”

“He needs someone to be there,” she argued. “Max can’t go to this alone.”

“He won’t be alone. Someone will accompany him.”

“Who?” Her voice was shrill. “Who is going in my place?”

I worked to keep an impassive expression on my face. “I am.”

Max winced.

Katrina shot up off her seat. “You preordained this.”

“Trust me, I have better things to do, but the GM requested I attend.”

“I don’t think so,” she gathered her bag and focused her attention on Max. “I promise you that I’ll be there, okay? You can count on me.”

She strode out of my office.

Max leaned forward and pleaded. “You need to get me out of this.”

“I can’t.”

“You can talk to your dad.”

“I already tried, and he’s adamant this will happen.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” I parlayed back. “You’re banned from the media. You should have sought special permission before doing this.”

“Katrina set this up.”

“She should have then.”

“But I don’t even want to do this.”

“And that’s why he is making you do it.”

“He’s punishing me.”

“He’s teaching you that there are rules in this club.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“We pay you 1.2 million dollars a year. For that amount of money, we expect you to know the rules.”

“This is bullshit.”

I lifted my hands up. “My hands are tied. You’ll be excused from practice on Friday so we can go get your photo taken.”

His eyes studied the sketches. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll be naked.”

“You’ve had plenty of photos of you in the buff.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “You can’t be in the room when this happens.”

“That’s fine. I will accompany you there and wait outside.”

He gave me another angry glance and then stood up and walked out.

FRIDAY MORNING, at an ungodly hour, Max and I arrived on the set. The room was a hub of activity. There was a white screen set up, and half a dozen lights were being adjusted by two men. The photographer fiddled with a camera while another two assistants set up his gear. A make-up artist sat talking to another woman at a make-up counter. Two women talked at the back and a young man carried coffee. There were two more men in suits, standing and talking around the breakfast table.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” I yelled over the loud techno music.

A big hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Max turned to me. “Don’t leave me.”

“Max.”

He radiated tension. “Stay.”