I Want You Back (Want You #1)(62)

“Little man syndrome?” I asked.

“And little dick syndrome,” she said with a snicker. “Not that I know that firsthand.”

“Has he been here from the start?”

She shook her head. “Lakeside has been in operation for four years. He showed up two years ago, claiming he’d coached hockey at a private school on the East Coast. But we’ve never been able to verify it—refusing to hire him hadn’t been an option, since his great-aunt owns this place.”

“His is a paid, full-time position?”

“A part-time paid position.” She snorted. “That’s the reason he combined the skills and coaching positions; now he gets paid to do both.” She held up her hand when I opened my mouth to object. “I’m aware of the need for separation, but I manage the rink and set the schedule. I’m not part of the coaching staff, so I have no vote in staffing positions or their teaching decisions.”

“That sucks.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve had no recourse except to watch him ruin what had once been a promising hockey program.” She slumped back in her chair. “Now that you know our dirty little secret about Dennis the Menace, I imagine you’ll seek out other options for Mimi.”

I gave her a considering look before I spoke. “I could. I have the means. But what about the other families who are using the facility for recreational hockey? They have to suck it up or quit. And since Lakeside’s concept of rec hockey and club hockey in one facility appealed to us, I’ll suck it up too.” I smirked at her. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll just accept the way he runs things.” I’d bide my time, get a feel for the place and the patrons before deciding how much I wanted to stir the pot.

Margene grinned at me. “I knew you were trouble, Stonewall. Give ’em hell and welcome to Lakeside.”

When I returned to the rink, Mimi was already there and dressed. “Hey, girl. You ready for this?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Remember what we practiced?”

“When I’m on the ice, my stick is in my hand.”

“Very good. What else?”

“Keep my head up and my blade on the ice.”

“You get an A-plus for today.”

Her grin was there and gone as she shifted her stance.

“What’s up?”

“Mommy said she saw you going into the office.”

“I had to drop off your registration paperwork.”

“Did you meet my coach?”

“I met him briefly.”

She blurted out, “Is he nice?”

What a loaded question. “Why did you ask that?”

“Because two of the other players said he’s mean and he yells all the time.” Her eyes were so anxious it slayed me. “Daddy, what if he yells at me?”

I forced an even tone. “You need to listen to him and what he’s yelling at you about. If you weren’t paying attention and put another player in danger . . . that’s a more serious reason to be yelled at than you missing a shot on goal, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve gotten yelled at by coaches my whole life. It’s not fun. So no matter what happens, you can talk to me about it afterward, because I know how it feels. You never have to hold anything back with me, okay?”

She nodded.

“Mimi, you’re sure you want to do this? Because if you want to walk off the ice right now, you can, no explanation needed.”

“No. I wanna play.”

I smiled at her. “Then go have fun. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

The whistle blew, signaling the start of class.

I scanned the stands and saw Lucy near the top. I dipped my chin at her but didn’t scale the steps to sit beside her. I had no precedent for what she expected during Mimi’s ice time, so I opted to stay in the front row so I could hear the coach and watch my daughter.

Ten minutes into the class, I wanted to punch Coach Dyklar in the throat.

The man had no idea what he was doing.

Where were the straight skating drills?

And blowing that goddamned whistle every couple of minutes . . . I wished he’d choke on it. Maybe he would if I could get away with a quick elbow shot.

The bench beside me squeaked, and a soft, warm hand covered my fist resting on my right thigh.

“I can see how tense you are even from the top of the stands,” Lucy said. “Relax.”

“I can’t. This is so fucked up. He shouldn’t be teaching this class, because he’s teaching them nothing. It’s an utter waste of time for her.”

Lucy leaned into me. “I’m a newb, remember? Explain what you mean.”

I launched into a running dialogue of everything that was wrong with this scenario.

She didn’t interrupt or ask a bunch of questions. She just let me ramble and kept running her fingers up and down my knuckles, trying to soothe me.

When I finished ranting, she pulled a water bottle out of her bag and handed it to me.

“Thanks.” That’s when I noticed she sat so close the left side of her body was pressed against the right side of mine from calves to shoulders. “You cold?”

“A little. Somebody was thoughtful enough to bring a blanket last time.”