The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(7)

“They destroyed your place.” Krista, who normally remained emotionless, sounded devastated.

“Seems that way.” I found three shot glasses in the cupboard and lined them up on the counter. Without asking if either of them would join me, I filled each shot glass.

“Mica, we need to talk,” Krista tried.

“Come here.” I motioned with my head. “Have a drink first.”

She stepped forward. I looked over her head at Charlie, who stood off to the side, her big brown eyes on my face. I wondered if she could see how I really felt inside.

“You too, Charlie. Get in here,” I said in a light tone.

She stepped up to the counter, set the files down and picked up her shot glass. Her honey-blonde hair was coming out of her messy braid.

“To life.” I raised my glass before tossing back the burning liquid. After drinking all night with Andrusha, and operating on an empty stomach, no food and limited sleep, my body almost rebelled against the shot.

Krista did her shot and then went into work mode.

“Want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

I watched as Charlie sniffed her shot and then gingerly put it to her lips. She tipped her head back and for a second I thought she might cough. She swallowed the entire shot, but her big brown eyes watered.

“Want another?” I asked.

Her eyes met mine, and she shook her head. For no other reason, than to see if she’d drink it, I poured her another shot.

Krista snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Petrov. Focus.”

I pulled my attention away from Charlie and looked at Krista. “I was playing poker with a friend.”

“Which friend?”

“His name is Andrusha Sokolov, and I grew up with him. I almost never see him, but we get together and hang out once in a while.”

“And?” Her voice was impatient. Out of my peripheral, I could see Charlie lift her shot glass and toss it back. I don’t know why that impressed me, but it did.

“And his place of establishment got busted. I was sleeping off my hangover in his office when the police raided the place early yesterday morning.”

“For fuck’s sake, Mica.” Krista looked pissed. “Do I even want to know what kind of establishment he runs?”

For the first time in my life, I lied to Krista. “As far as I know, he runs a mineral oil shipping business. Anything else he does, I don’t know about.”

She looked around my place. “Well, apparently he’s doing something illegal.”

“The police held me overnight, probably to take the time to get a warrant for my place. They first warned me off my friend and then suggested I spy on him on behalf of the police force.”

“You mean, become a police informant?” Krista’s voice went up two notches.

“I told them to fuck off.”

“I don’t have to tell you that this is a fucking disaster. This is a PR nightmare. This is so bad, I can’t remember when, in the history of my career, a client was so far up shit creek as you are right now.”

I blinked at her. “Don’t sugarcoat this for me.”

She huffed. “Your image is in shreds. You were already hanging by a loose thread before last night, but this is cataclysmic.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and sat down on what remained of my couch. “My reputation wasn’t that bad.”

She ticked off the offending items on one hand. “The houseboat party last summer that got out of control and involved the coast guard. The crazy situation at that waterfront restaurant where one of your guests threw a table off the balcony. The prank you played on one of your teammates that resulted in your chartered flight being delayed and the entire team being late for a game.”

All true. All mostly not my fault. I liked to party, but it usually wasn’t me who got too wild. It was my crazy-ass friends. “I thought that was all forgiven.”

She pinned me with another one of her looks. “Ashford may have forgiven you, but he never forgets. You’re damn lucky you’re so talented on the ice, but this situation will make the houseboat incident look insignificant.”

I felt like throwing up. I leaned my head back and shut my eyes. “So what do you suggest?”

“I’m thinking.” The shrill sound of her cell echoed through the room. “It’s Mark Ashford. Don’t fucking move.”

I listened to the sound of her heels disappear out the front door.





Chapter 3





CHARLIE





I stood next to the island, feeling buzzed from the two shots Mica had poured me. I couldn’t believe his response. He seemed indifferent to the fact that his house had been shredded and destroyed.

“How mad is Mark Ashford?” His deep voice sounded rough. My eyes flew to his face, but he remained on the couch with his head leaning back and his eyes shut.

“He’s pissed.”

“I bet.”

“Aren’t you upset?” I looked around the room, still in disbelief at the state it was in.

“What’s the point?”

I didn’t understand this man. He seemed so calm and emotionless. “Don’t you care?”

Those blue eyes opened and studied my face. “I care.”