Page 24 of Playoff (Toronto Blaze #4)

I’m the Ponzi guy

Alek

I didn’t know who pulled strings, but when I arrived for practice on Monday there was a jersey with ALEK on the back in my stall. No one commented. JJ ignored me when he came in, so I didn’t know if he was aware yet or not.

The first time Coach called “Alek,” JJ’s head whipped around looking for the new guy. I was the only one who skated over, so he caught on. The way he glared at me made it obvious he wasn’t impressed. This idea was going to backfire, and I’d get the blame for it.

It was a good thing we’d improved our play over the last couple of games, because this practice was a gong show.

I was called Den-Alek more than anything else, and a couple of times I missed it when someone called me by my first name.

I’d been Denny for years, even off the ice.

Guys didn’t respond correctly when Alek was called, and it unsettled people enough that even the coaches were missing things.

Coach called us in at the end of practice. His frustration was obvious. “Okay, home game tomorrow. I hope like hell you do better at morning skate because we can’t afford to keep losing.”

He skated off the ice and JJ came right at me. “What the fuck?”

I thought he was going to drop the gloves, but this was a practice, for fuck’s sake.

Cooper pushed between us, shoving the angry JJ back. “Settle the fuck down.”

JJ shot him a furious glance but skated back a couple of feet. “Is this some kind of joke? He’s trying to hide who he is?”

Yep, the blame game was headed my way.

Fitch moved in on my other side. “This isn’t on D-Alek. It’s another of Ducky’s ideas.”

JJ whipped his glare over to Fitch. “What is?”

“You and Alek. Ducky’s not even here and he can see the problem. This issue between you two is bleeding into our games.”

I had no idea what to say, surprised by Fitch coming in on my side. JJ’s eyes dropped and his shoulders folded in. “I’m working on it.”

Cooper tapped him with his stick. “We get it. Ducky figured the name was a trigger, so if we used Alek instead, you could maybe forget what happened and just focus on hockey. At least while we’re playing.”

JJ pulled off his helmet and swore. “I’m sorry. I thought I was past all this shit.”

Cooper looked at me. “Are you past it all, Alek?”

I snorted. “Couldn’t be if I wanted to.”

Cooper turned back to his linemate. “So maybe we can’t forget about it, but we can try to set it aside here, on the ice. And one way to do that is with the name change, at least for now.” He tapped JJ’s shin with his stick. “Alek is willing to try. Are you?”

JJ didn’t answer for a moment. “Is this gonna fly with the league?”

Cooper shrugged. “We’ll find out. We’ll blame it on a mistake with an order somewhere, let it go as long as we can.”

As long as I wasn’t getting dinged for it. I hadn’t lived down the illegal stick call.

“I should have known this was a Ducky thing,” JJ said. “Guy thinks he’s a psychiatrist now.” He looked at me again, as if testing me for something—sincerity?—then skated away.

“You okay?” Cooper checked on me as well, for god knew what.

“Sure.” What did he expect? If using my first name would help the team and as a result my stats improved, I was in. As long as I wasn’t left to take any blame for it on my own. It would be nice to have a team I could relax with.

“Want to do lunch?”

I didn’t need a babysitter. JJ was the guy with the problem. “I’m skipping the meal here, since I need to find a vehicle.”

Fitch shook his head. “You’ve done it now.” He skated off.

Cooper grinned. “Come on, we’ll get something to eat out of the building and then I can help with the car. I know a couple of guys.”

He would. This was his town. It would be stupid to pass up the introductions he could make simply because he would grill me during lunch. He couldn’t force me to tell him anything I didn’t want to.

Turned out, he didn’t want that. We talked mostly about the All-Star Game while we caught a quick bite at another place Cooper knew. The league kept switching up the format of the midseason extravaganza, so hearing his take on it was amusing.

He pushed his plate aside when he was finished. “So, what are you looking for in a vehicle?”

I leaned back in my chair. “I’ve got the Lambo back in Cali, but it’s not the right car for a Canadian winter.” That would give him an idea about what I was willing to pay and that I wasn’t in the market for a Subaru.

He nodded. “Yeah, my Ferrari stays garaged till the ice is gone.”

“So the Bentley is your winter car?” I’d now ridden in it a few times. It was a nice ride, but not what I was interested in.

“Yeah. I promo for them, so I got a deal. A lot of the single guys like trucks for a winter vehicle. The dealers like the visibility, but there might not be a lot of availability now for another truck deal. Is that what you’re looking for?”

Did I want a pickup? Not really. “Maybe more along the lines of an SUV?” Something a little smoother driving, less cowboy-looking.

My Lambo was five years old, but driving it still caught attention.

I had a few endorsements, and those brands weren’t selling diapers.

I wanted the same kind of image while I was here in Toronto.

“I’d be happy to just lease one. Who knows where I’ll be next season? ”

Cooper shot me a glance. “Did you want to stay in Toronto?”

“Hell no.” An image of Jess flashed in my head, but I shoved that down.

“Don’t hold back.”

“It’s nothing against the city or the team. But like this whole thing with JJ proves, in Canada, I’m the Ponzi guy. In the States, no one gives a shit. I’m tired of taking the flak for what my parents did.”

“That has to be tough.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t looking for sympathy, just telling it like it was.

Cooper let it go, thankfully. “What about a G-Wagon? I know somebody at the Mercedes place near here. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

By dinnertime I was driving my new leased G-Wagon home. Having wheels again felt good. Compared to LA, Toronto might have better transit options, but I didn’t want to ride the subway or buses.

I’d been recognized at the dealership, despite the drastic makeover. My new look was familiar to the fans now. I was letting my hair grow again but kept my jaw at the scruff level. Maybe I’d need a playoff beard this year and could grow it out then, but this was a chance to play with my image.

The GPS brought me safely back to the condo. Traffic was a bitch, but at least most of it was heading out of the city center, not in. I waved my pass, and once in the underground parking, found the second space that came with Fitch’s condo. I was lucky he didn’t have a spare vehicle.

In his slot was his Volvo, because apparently anyone from Sweden was required to own one. He had an XC90 T8, so it could handle the winters. For all I knew, Fitch went to Sweden in the offseason.

While I had been signing the paperwork, Cooper called the team admin people, and they’d promised to send a parking pass for the arenas over.

What Cooper wanted got done, fast. I grabbed the passes from the concierge and took the elevator back down to leave them in the Mercedes for morning.

I hoped I remembered how to drive in winter conditions.

On the way back up, the elevator doors opened on the lobby floor. One person was waiting to get in the car. It had to be Jess. Of course it did.

A smile crossed my face before I could stop it.

Something about that buttoned-up exterior when I’d seen the woman underneath appealed to me.

I liked that hidden woman. Jess looked up from her phone and flinched.

That ended the smile. “Should I give you the elevator or do you want to wait for the next one?”

She stepped through the doors with a sigh. “I’m sorry. It was a bad day, and that’s not a good excuse but it’s all I have.”

I appreciated the apology—she didn’t have to give me one. “We don’t have to talk, if that helps.”

She let out a breath. “I don’t mean to be rude. I know Justin is out with a sponsor thing so he’s not even here and all we’re doing is talking, but I imagine him finding out about us and…”

Logically, that was just another aftereffect of my parents, but it still made my mood dive. “Believe me, I don’t want him to find out either.” There was anger in my voice, which didn’t make sense, but still, it hurt.

She rubbed her eyes with one hand. “Fair. I didn’t mean to sound like anyone knowing we hooked up was something to be ashamed of.” She lifted her eyes to me. “You don’t deserve that.”

My breath caught. When had anyone said that to me? I swallowed. “It is what it is.” And since it was depressing as fuck to think about why I couldn’t take her to my place for amazing sex, I moved the conversation on. “What made it a bad day for you?”

“Client stuff.”

“Is that a polite way to say you can’t talk about it?”

“Not really. But it’s kind of boring.”

“I’m interested. A burden shared is halved, or something, right?”

She leaned against the side. “Mrs. Garvin, one of my clients, passed away a bit ago.”

“The bourbon client?”

Our eyes caught as we both remembered that first meeting. Her cheeks flushed before she looked away. “Yeah. Her son was in today.”

“And he was an asshole?”

“Kind of. His mother carefully curated a portfolio of ethical but profitable investments, and he’s going to flip everything over to whatever has the greatest ROI.”

She sounded disappointed, but it wasn’t like most people didn’t have that same motivation. It was what had made my parents successful. Which probably affected Jess, after what happened to her family, and contributed to what she was doing now with her clients.

The doors opened on my floor, but I hit the button to keep them open. “You said your brother is out, right?”

She nodded.

“I just got a new vehicle. Want to take a ride, clear your head?”

She stared at me.

Yeah, this wasn’t my smartest idea, but I wanted to make her smile again. “No one has to know. Thought you might like a distraction, and I’d like to try it out when I’m not stuck in rush-hour traffic.”

She was going to say no. Under her wool trench coat, she was wearing a brown suit, looking respectable and proper, not like the woman who’d slept with me without knowing my name.

The disappointment I felt was all out of proportion to her turning down this offer.

Nothing was going to happen, not ever again.

Then her shoulders straightened. “Sure. Why not?”

Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but she looked a little less beaten down. There was a smile tipping up one corner of her mouth. Inside was someone playful, a woman who didn’t get to come out much.

I reminded myself nothing could happen. I wasn’t going to have sex in my new car in February in Toronto. And there was the whole family enemy thing.

“I’ll meet you down on parking level 3 in…ten minutes?”

She looked down at her clothes. “Give me twenty.”

I stepped out of the elevator, a smirk on my face. As the doors slid closed I said, “It’s a date.”