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Authors: Deirdre Martin

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BOOK: Hip Check (New York Blades)
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Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgments

 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

1

“Hey, Saari: who’s
the cute blonde you parked with Lou?”

Esa took his time answering Ulf Torkelson’s question as he stood in front of his locker, briskly rubbing his head with a towel. He couldn’t believe it had taken one of his teammates this long to ask about Nell. Maybe they didn’t want to distract him before practice. As if he wasn’t distracted already.

Heads had turned when he’d walked into practice with her. How could they not? Thankfully, Nell was oblivious to his teammates gawps and glances. For some reason, it was Lou Capesi who held her attention. Since Lou was an expert on only two things, publicity and food, Esa assumed he was entertaining her with stories of his gourmet adventures.

Esa draped the towel around his neck. “The blonde’s my niece, Nell.”

“She visiting?” Ulf asked.

“No. She’s living with me now. I’m her legal guardian.” Saying it aloud made it feel all the more surreal.

The reaction in the locker room was akin to a sparkler being blown out, postpractice adrenalin plummeting to bafflement. The only people in the Blades organization who had known about Nell were General Manager Ty Gallagher, Coach Michael Dante, Lou, and Rory Brady, his best friend on the team.

Esa sat down on a bench. “Fire away, guys,” he said, even as his guts filled with dread. “Ask anything you want. I think it’ll be easier to just get it all out of the way right now.”

His teammates glanced at each other apprehensively. No one said a word, so Esa broke the ice. “You’re all thinking: ‘Esa, taking care of a kid? What the fuck—?’”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Tully Webster admitted. “Is she living with you for good?”

“Until she turns eighteen, I guess.” Esa anticipated the next question and decided to ask it himself. That way, he wouldn’t have to go deep into details that hurt too much. “Why is she with me? Because my sister died in a plane crash last year. Remember?”

“Oh yeah.” Tully looked ashamed; clearly he hadn’t remembered at all.

“So the kid’s dad bit it, too?” Ulf asked casually, slicking his armpits with deodorant.

Eric Mitchell looked at the hulking defenseman with more than his usual disgust. “Jesus Christ. Do you have to be so insensitive?”

“What?” Ulf whined, looking around the locker room for support. “Saari told us to ask questions!”

“Yeah, okay, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea,” Esa said, half jesting. He felt drained, and not just from practice. The stress of his life changing overnight was taking an immediate toll.

“Here’s the deal: my sister, Danika, was single; Nell’s dad is someone she selected from a sperm bank. Even though I’m Nell’s legal guardian, when Danika died, her best friend, Leslie, and I thought it would be better if Nell stayed with her, since it meant not uprooting Nell from London. Plus, Leslie has always been like a second mother to Nell.”

Esa sighed deeply. “Unfortunately, Leslie just took a job that involves a lot of travel to Asia. We decided that the best thing for Nell was that she come here. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Jason Mitchell repeated incredulously, pulling a Blades sweatshirt over his head. “Does this Leslie know you know shit about kids?”

Esa’s hackles went up. “I’m not a fucking moron, you know. I can figure it out.”

“How old is she?” Ulf asked.

“Eight.”

“Same age as you mentally,” David Hewson pointed out to Ulf.

“Dude.” Teammate Tully Webster looked at Esa like he was delusional. “No disrespect, but you don’t seem the single parent type. Single uncle type, I mean. She’s an eight-year-old
girl
. You’re a professional hockey player whose number one hobby is chasing tail.”

“No, it could work out,” Ulf interjected. “When this happens in the movies the uncle is usually some crabby old bastard, and the kid is scared of him. But in the end, they get really close and love each other.” He looked at Esa. “So don’t worry. There’s always a happy ending.”

Esa stared at him. “You’re a Swedish idiot.”

“He’s just trying to be helpful,” Rory pointed out quietly.
Thank Christ for Rory
, Esa thought. If he and his wife, Erin, hadn’t been there for him when he found out Nell was going to be his, he’d probably have lost it completely.

Esa looked at Ulfie, who was clearly hurt. “Sorry, man.”

Ulf grunted begrudgingly. “You can be a real Finnish fuck, you know?”

“Look.” Rory’s voice turned serious as he slipped his wedding ring on. “I think we should try to support Esa with this.”

“Who the fuck are you, the Irish Dr. Phil?” Eric mocked affectionately. He patted Esa on the shoulder. “Anything we can do, bro. You know that. You need to learn how to do a French braid? I’m your man.” He jerked a thumb at his brother, Jason. “You want to know which Barbie dolls she might like? This douche bag is the expert.”

Esa rose, too tired for a clever comeback. He noticed that Tully Webster’s expression hadn’t changed: he was still looking at him with disbelief. “What’s the problem?”

Tully just shook his head. “You have no clue what you’re getting yourself into.”

Esa slammed his locker shut. “Everything will be fine.” That ended the conversation. Leave it to Tully to be the voice of doom. Just because Tully had two kids, it didn’t mean he was the world’s expert on child rearing. A bunch of the guys had kids. Hell, Coach “Mikey the Merciless” had kids and he hadn’t given Esa a hard time. Yet.

There was just one problem: Tully was right. Esa had no idea what he was getting himself into. He couldn’t remotely imagine what life with an eight-year-old little girl was going to be like. He and Nell knew each other a little bit, but they weren’t especially close. He saw her once or twice a year, when he went to visit his sister. Yet for some inexplicable reason, Danika had wanted Nell with him.

It didn’t make sense. He could understand her not making their parents Nell’s guardians. For one thing, it involved moving the poor kid to Finland and forcing her to learn a whole new language. For another, his parents were strict and impatient, with about as narrow a world view as an ayatollah. They weren’t the warmest people, either. But why hadn’t Danika left Nell to Leslie? Shit, “left” was the wrong word. It made Nell sound like she was a lamp or some family heirloom.

Nell was the most precious thing in Danika’s life, and she was close to her Aunt Leslie. Didn’t it make more sense to make Leslie Nell’s legal guardian from the start? So what if she wasn’t a blood relative? Danika had no illusions about what Esa’s life was like. Did she think making him responsible for Nell would tame him, turn him into some kind of domesticated beast? Those were the last things he wanted right now—domestication and responsibility. Nell was a great kid, but he resented the way she had been thrust upon him. He felt like a shit thinking that, but it was true.

Still, he was determined to honor his sister’s wishes and give it his best shot. He just hoped he didn’t screw up Nell too much in the process.

2

“Saari, hold up.”

The sound of his coach’s voice behind him caught Esa by surprise as he left the locker room. Usually he and Rory departed together, but today Esa had to swing by Lou’s office to pick up Nell. Rory didn’t see what the big deal was if he came along, but Esa just felt it was better he fetch Nell alone. The kid had only been in the country three days and he’d already dumped her on Lou, as if she didn’t already have enough trauma in her life.

Esa had been lingering in the locker room, dragging his feet going to fetch her. The thought filled him with dread. What were they going to do the rest of the day? She’d had jet lag for a day and a half, so he’d been off the hook for a while. Yesterday he’d brought her to FAO Schwartz at the suggestion of his doorman. But he had no idea what to do next.

Esa stopped, waiting for Michael. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Michael sounded incredulous. “You’re taking care of an eight-year-old kid, that’s what.”

“Don’t have much choice,” Esa replied with resignation as they started down the neon-lit hallway toward the elevators.

Michael was scanning his face. “Esa, this is serious shit. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Esa replied with irritation. Jesus. He might not be a family man, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.

“You two close?”

“Not really,” Esa said. The admission pained him. He’d been a shitty uncle and a shitty brother. He should have visited Nell and Danika more. He should have spent more time with his sister, period. Having Nell with him brought home the fact that Danika was really dead, and he’d never see her again.

“I saw Nell a couple of times a year.”

“But do you get along?” Michael’s brown eyes were probing his, making it tough to run from the truth. One thing about Coach Dante: he had a knack for getting you to cough up info. Maybe because he really cared.

“Yeah,” Esa said uncertainly. “I mean, I know she likes me. I like her: she’s a good kid.”

“A good kid who’s been through a lot,” Michael pointed out quietly.

Esa was silent. He and the coach continued walking.

“Did you have anything set up for her when she arrived?”

Esa glanced at him. “What, like her room?”

Michael nodded.

“Yeah. Leslie—my sister’s friend—sent a bunch of stuff over before Nell came: some clothes, books, DVD’s. I bought her pink sheets. The woman at Bloomingdale’s said little girls liked pink. And purple.” Esa paused. “She seems to like it.”

“When does the nanny start? Where is she going to school?”

Esa stared at him blankly.
You asshole
, he thought. He kept meaning to get around to taking care of both, but for some reason, he kept forgetting. Forgetting on purpose, Rory would say. Thinking that if you don’t do it, it’ll make Nell go away.

Esa knit his eyebrows together, feigning deep thought. The corridor suddenly felt endless. “I have to double-check.”

Michael laughed softly. “
Madonn
’, you haven’t even hired a nanny yet, have you?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“What? Continent hopping and flirting your ass off in trendy bars?”

“Hey, I’m doing the best I can here, okay?” Esa retorted. He knew he deserved the rebuke; what kind of moron neglects enrolling a kid in school and lining up care? Answer: one who wanted to pretend his life wasn’t going to be pulverized into something unrecognizable.

“Saari, the school year starts in two weeks, and preseason starts in three. You have to move fast.” Michael looked thoughtful as he smoothed back his thinning black hair. “I might be able to help you on the nanny front.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Theresa has two clients—a really famous acting couple—who are moving out to L.A. Their longtime nanny wants to stay put.”

“Why doesn’t the nanny want to go?”

“Her family’s here.”

That bode well. Loyalty. It meant she’d take care of Nell for as long as he was a Blade.

“Theresa’s met her and said she was nice,” Michael continued.

Theresa was Michael’s wife. Together with Ty Gallagher’s wife, Janna, she ran FM PR, one of the top PR firms in Manhattan with clients ranging from professional jocks to the rich and famous. Michael wasn’t supposed to, but he was always feeding the guys tasty morsels of gossip that he got from Theresa. Which was why the next question out of Esa’s mouth was, “Who’s the couple?”

Michael glanced behind them to make sure they were safe, then told him.

Esa was floored. “Wow.”

“I know. Real prima donnas. So she’d be used to dealing with rich assholes like you.” He didn’t seem to be kidding. “Want me to ask Theresa about her?”

“Hell, yeah. Tell Theresa I’ll pay the nanny whatever she wants. If she could start at the weekend, that would be great.”

“Saari, you have to meet the woman and interview her first. She’s not Mary freakin’ Poppins, just turning up on your doorstep like magic.”

Esa’s heart sank. “Right.”

“I’ll talk to Theresa, and if the woman is interested, I’ll have Theresa pass her info on to you. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Well, the more I can get you focused on the ice this season, the better.” Esa knew what was coming. “You have to kick it up a notch. You were good last year, but you weren’t great, and we need great. I need you to be great. Ty needs you to be great.”

Esa deflated. “Yeah, I hear ya.”

As if taking on Nell wasn’t enough, he was in the last year of his contract, and according to his agent, the Blades seemed in no hurry to re-sign him. It would be nice going into the season knowing this was taken care of. Blades’ management dragging their feet was one more distraction he didn’t need. His life had gone from simple to complex overnight, and he hated it.

* * *

Esa found Nell
sitting at Lou’s desk, her eyes glued to his computer screen as her fingers flew across the keyboard. She looked so serious sitting there in the office chair, a beat-up old wooden number that Lou refused to part with. He had no interest in “ergonomics or anything of that bullshit.” The chair he’d started with decades back was fine with him. The only change was that now, because of his bad back, he sat on a couple of pillows, too.

Nell hadn’t noticed Esa yet, which gave him a chance to study her. Christ, she looked so much like his sister, with that long, long blond hair and big blue eyes.

But she differed from Danika in one fundamental way: she didn’t laugh or smile very much. Esa knew this was a recent development. He remembered one Christmas at his sister’s a few years back when Nell had been giggling her head off, watching a cartoon about some horrible kid who’s always pulling pranks on people. It was hard to believe she’d turned into the intense little girl sitting in front of him.

“Hey.” Esa joined her at the computer, peering over her shoulder. “Looking at anything good?”

“I’m researching Italian restaurants in the San Francisco area for Mr. Capesi.” Nell’s voice was quiet but lyrical; “posh,” as his sister would say. Esa agreed: she sounded like Keira Knightley.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Lou asked affectionately as he waddled over to his desk, giving Esa the stare of death before turning his full attention to Nell. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Capesi. You can call me Lou.”

Nell looked up at Esa from beneath her long, blond lashes, unsure of what to do. He could see she was desperate not to misstep.

“It’s okay to call him Lou,” Esa assured her.

“Lou,” she repeated as her eyes sparked to life. “A boy in my school once had a hamster named Lou. He escaped from his cage and got run over by a mail lorry.”

“What the f—what’s a lorry?” Lou asked.

“A truck,” Esa supplied.

“I’m not surprised the hamster got run over,” said Lou. “Lous don’t always have the best of luck. Anyway, that’s what you call me from now on,” he told Nell. “Sounds a helluva lot better than Mr. Capesi, doesn’t it?”

Nell nodded. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Esa swore he detected a faint smile on her lips. She liked Lou, she was comfortable with him. That was a good sign.

“What have you got her researching restaurants for?” Esa wanted to know.

“Whaddaya think? Me and the missus are headed out to Frisco for a long weekend in October. I want to make sure we hit the right places.”

“You couldn’t look this up yourself?”

“I wanted to help him,” Nell interjected.

“She sees I’m busy, she’s a good kid, she wants to help,” Lou finished for her. “Right, doll?”

Nell nodded, looking pleased with the explanation her tough talking, morbidly obese translator had given.

“There you go,” Lou said to Esa, as if it were self-evident.

Esa smiled at Nell. Tentative, he put a friendly hand on her shoulder, but only for a moment, since he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. She’d been so stiff when he’d hugged her at the airport it had actually hurt his feelings. Better not to push.

“Ready to go?”

Nell nodded yes, but she didn’t move.
Fuck
, Esa thought.
She’s as enthused about going with me as I am with taking her
.

“Before you go,” Lou said to Nell, while continuing to murder Esa with his eyes, “I just need a minute to talk to your uncle about something.”

Nell’s eyes remained on the screen. “Me, right?”

“No,” said Lou. “Just stuff.”

Nell shrugged indifferently and went back to Googling restaurants. Esa followed Lou through the PR department’s outer office and out into the hall.

“I know what you’re going to say,” said Esa, “so let me apologize in advance: I’m sorry for asking you to watch Nell. I know it was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Hey, she’s a great little girl, lucky for you. But you can’t fuckin’ do that again, Saari. It’s not right. You couldn’t get the Leprechaun’s wife to look after her?”

“Erin works, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot: sorting out old pictures or some shit—”

“She’s an
archivist
, Lou,” Esa corrected impatiently.

“Besides, I wanted Nell to see me while I practiced. She’s only been here three days. I thought it might be a bit much to let someone else watch her when—”

Lou held up his hand. “Stop. I know you, Saari. I know the way you think, and I know what you think about. Worrying that deeply about your niece’s mental state isn’t you. Admit it: you had no idea what to do with her, so you brought her to practice with you.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Lou turned on his trademark glare. “All right, yes.”

“What’re you going to do with her the rest of today?”

“I don’t know,” Esa said miserably.

“Of course you don’t, because you hot shit, Finnish pricks don’t know anything.”

“This hot shit, Finnish prick agreed to pose in the buff for some ‘Hockey Hunk’ calendar for you,” Esa pointed out tersely, the mortification of the photo shoot rushing back to him. Never again.

Lou was shaking his head in reprimand. “You have to do more stuff like that, Saari. I’ve told you for two goddamn years: more PR, less fucking around.”

“I don’t ‘fuck around,’ Lou. I like going out with beautiful women. How is that fucking around?”

“It’s not just the women. It’s the whole bachelor ethos.”

“I’m a bachelor!”

Lou tilted his head in Nell’s direction. “Yeah? Well, maybe you should cut back. You owe it to the kid, at the very least.”

“Right,” said Esa, fighting resentment.

“Anyway, the babysitting . . .”

“Look, Lou: it’s Friday. I’ll have a nanny by Monday. I swear.”

Lou looked skeptical. “Yeah? What’re you going to do? Buy one at Bloomingdale’s?”

Esa ignored Lou’s remark. “The coach has a lead on one. If she’s interested, I can talk to her tomorrow and this whole issue can be wrapped up by Sunday.”

“What if you don’t like her?”

“I’ll like her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Jesus Christ, why are you being so negative?” Esa snarled. “Theresa’s met her and said she was nice.”

Lou just grunted. Esa got the sense he was almost disappointed that hiring a nanny might be easy for him, that somehow Esa didn’t deserve it.

“Thanks for watching her,” Esa said to Lou. He was genuinely grateful.

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