Page 4 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)

Chapter Four

Brandon

T angi, Jill, and their friend Wolseley came down the basement stairs. We were all watching baseball while Ethan was on the walkout lower deck, manning the barbecue. I had wanted to go home, but Tangi had asked me to stay, and how could I say no? Ryan, Jeremy, and the rest of the guys had been welcoming, and even Ethan had begrudgingly accepted me. I’d managed to change my departure time, but if I wanted the last flight out, I had to leave in the next hour or so.

I watched the three women march toward Ryan—well, only Jill marched. Tangi and Wolseley seemed to be reluctantly trucking along behind her.

“What are you doing?” Wolseley said, seeming to direct her question to Jill.

“I’m going to make all your problems disappear.”

Ryan was relaxing on one of the sofas, snacking on chips and washing it down with a beer. He stopped when Jill stood in front of him, dragging Wolseley along with her.

“Ryan, let’s cut to the chase. I’m not going to sugarcoat this. You can’t go into camp looking the way you do. ”

I’d been taking a swig of my beer, watching this unfold, and I spit it out. Thankfully, I’d managed to swallow most of it down. I was wiping my mouth, still riveted by what I was seeing. I’d known that Jill was blunt, but this was spectacular. I was suddenly glad I’d taken Tangi up on her offer to come by.

Ryan, never one to be confrontational off the ice, didn’t surprise me. He set down his beer and wrinkled his nose in confusion. “What?”

He’d always been one of the more dopey guys on the team, but he was a decent person and an amazing defenseman. And if he showed up to camp the way he looked now, Coach Anthony would have him on a thousand-calorie diet of pure protein only. Okay, maybe nothing that drastic, but he’d be pissed off.

“Look, you indulged a little in the offseason. It happens. But you need to shed some weight before camp. You know we take the promotional shots early, and do you want to look bloated in pictures? No,” she said before he had a chance to answer. “That’s why you need a personal chef, and Wolseley would be the perfect person for that.”

“What?” Wolseley said, her big brown eyes opening wide.

Tangi’s equally shocked expression had me confused, too. Didn’t Wolseley have a restaurant to run? How was she going to make him meals from Minnesota?

“You need a job, right?” Jill said to Wolseley. “I just found you one. And I’m sure Ryan can afford you, right, Ryan?”

My head was spinning, watching the back-and-forth.

“Don’t you have a restaurant?” Ryan asked Wolseley.

He’d asked the million-dollar question.

“Well, technically, yes,” she said, fumbling with her hands. “But not for long. Anyway, it’s not a big deal, and you don’t have to listen to Jill. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

Now, I was intrigued.

“An ex-employee of hers is trying to ruin her life, the shithead. Wolseley is looking for a fresh start,” Jill said. “She makes healthy food, which, by the looks of what you’re eating right now, is something you could use a lot of.”

This was pure entertainment, and when I made eye contact with a few of the other guys, I could see they were enjoying themselves as much as I was. Jeremy, on the other hand, didn’t seem to like what his girlfriend was up to. The frown on his face said it all, but he didn’t intervene. Lucky for me.

The look on Ryan’s face was priceless as if Jill had just kicked his new puppy. He set down the chip in his hand and pushed away the beer.

“Jill, you need to stop,” Wolseley said, finally showing some grit. “What you’re doing isn’t very nice.”

“It’s honest,” she said, setting her focus back on Ryan. “Did you not like her food?”

“I-I did, but …”

“I don’t even know what sort of food requirements he has. This takes research,” Wolseley protested.

“I’m sure you can easily figure it out. Anything you come up with in your sleep is better than what Ryan eats on a daily basis.”

Tangi waved her hands in front of both her friends. “Stop. Jill, cut it out. You should have asked Wolseley about this before we came down here. You’ve not only put her on the spot, but you’ve put Ryan on the spot, too. It’s not cool.”

Ryan seemed to have finally absorbed what had been said and proposed. “This idea does sound like a good one, but can I think about it? I don’t even know what this all means.”

“You don’t need to think about it. I need to think about it since this is the first I’ve heard of a job that isn’t really a job,” Wolseley said, shooting Jill a glare.

The two women started arguing, and that was when Tangi grabbed their arms and escorted them back upstairs. We all watched them go, and then Ryan looked around, no doubt trying to make sense of what was going on.

“What the fuck was that?” he said to no one in particular.

Benoit spoke first. “I think Jeremy’s girlfriend was trying to tell you to lose some weight.”

Ryan shot daggers at Benoit with his eyes. “Yeah, I got that part. But that came out of nowhere. Jeremy, come on! She cornered me.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Hey, I had no idea she was going to do that. Do you think I can control her?”

“Does everyone think I need to lose weight?” Ryan asked, staring around the room.

So many weak-kneed wimps looked down at their feet or outside at Ethan, who was grilling away, having no clue what had just happened. Where were the balls on these guys? More importantly, how could Ryan be so oblivious to his current situation?

“Yeah, you need to lose weight,” I said. “Is that coming as a surprise to you?” I said it matter-of-factly and as kindly as possible, but by the gasps emanating throughout the room, my delivery was probably taken harsher than I’d intended. One of the guys even laughed in shock. Yup, I’d have to work on my delivery a little more.

Ryan scrunched up his face. “Fuck you, Warde.”

I definitely should have softened that. “Look, I didn’t mean it as an insult. It happens. I’ll speak for myself. I’m slowing down. I can’t recover as quickly as I used to. So you’ve put on a few pounds. You’re an amazing athlete, and I know you can take it off. Would it hurt to have a chef making you all the right foods?”

Right. Better. Ryan seemed to think about that, so maybe he wouldn’t want to punch me. The guy had almost seventy pounds and three inches on me. His fist would hurt.

“I guess not,” he said begrudgingly.

“But I’m confused,” Jeremy said. “Since when did Wolseley need a side gig?”

As if she’d been listening, Jill yelled down from the top of the stairs. “I’ll tell you about it later, Jeremy.”

“So fucking weird,” he said, wandering to the beer fridge and handing out another round.

A few minutes later, Ethan wandered in with a heaping pile of various proteins on a huge platter. Next, he brought in some baked potatoes, and we all dove in. Jeremy filled him in on all he’d missed while poor Ryan was careful to pace himself. I ate quickly and checked my watch. I had to leave soon to catch my flight. I thanked Ethan for the hospitality, apologized to Ryan again—who seemed to not hold a grudge—and then headed upstairs. Wolseley was alone at the kitchen table, staring out the window, and I thought to slink off, but was I the slinking-off type?

“Hey, you okay?”

She turned to face me and smiled sadly. “I will be. Eventually.”

“Something go down?” I asked, sitting across from her at the table. Normally, I would have sneaked away, but she looked so down that I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Besides, I could spare a few minutes.

“Lots. My career, and now Jill, has utterly humiliated me. I’m sure that’s why Tangi insisted that Jill help her put Maddy to bed. I think Jill is getting a lecture.”

“The guys didn’t even talk about it, so don’t worry about the humiliation. But what happened to your career?”

She groaned. “A disgruntled employee screwed me over in more ways than one. I want to crawl away and die right now. ”

She obviously didn’t want to say more, and I wasn’t going to press. “You could leave. Why hang around?”

Her big brown eyes were looking at me now.

“You know what? I think I might.”

“You’re welcome to share my Uber with me. I’m going to the airport, but we have time to stop somewhere else.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

She grabbed her oversized cloth bag that looked like a patchwork quilt and followed me out the door. We climbed into the Uber, and she gave instructions to the driver on where to drop her off.

“You serious about doing the whole personal chef thing?” I asked.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I suppose it’s an option.”

“If your career is over like you say it is, then maybe starting over somewhere new is the right call.”

“Maybe.”

“Ryan would be an idiot not to hire you as his personal chef.”

“I don’t even know if I want to be a personal chef.”

As we slowed down in front of an apartment building, she tried to pay the Uber driver, but I assured her I would cover it.

She grabbed her bag and was about to leave, but I cleared my throat to stop her. For the last hour or so, I’d been thinking about everything and how nice it would be to have someone handle all my meals. It would be one less thing to worry about, especially when I got lazy.

“Before you go,” I said, “I know you don’t know what your future plans are, but if you do decide to try the personal chef route, I’d like to hire you.”

I blurted that out before I’d fully thought it through, which was unlike me, but something about it felt right. Wolseley made some amazing food, and if I could have someone do it all for me, I could have more time to get in shape, to focus, and not have to think about what I was putting in my body. I’d leave food prep to Wolseley.

She blinked a few times. “For real?”

“I wouldn’t joke about it.”

“But I have no idea what I’m doing. No idea what an athlete needs to eat.”

“I’m sure you can figure it out. Why don’t you think about it? Give me your number, and I’ll text you with mine. When you’ve figured out what you want to do, let me know.”

She blinked a few more times. “Okay. Thanks.”

I took her number and sent a quick text to her. Once she’d received it, she thanked me again and headed to her building.

Ryan’s waffling was about to be my gain.