Pipe Dreams(29)

Her own graduation ceremony would occur during the play-offs, too. If  the Bruisers kept winning, she might have to inform Nate that she would  miss a couple of days of team travel to don a cap and gown.

Nate wouldn't make her miss her own graduation. He wasn't an ogre. "Just  don't take your shiny degree and defect to the competition," he'd said  more than once.

She wouldn't, though. In the first place, she'd used the corporate  tuition-matching program to cut the cost of her education in half. If  she quit she'd owe that money back. But more importantly, she didn't  want to leave either Nate or his company. Even if getting a new job with  more responsibility elsewhere would be a thrill, Nate paid her really  well to run his C-suite. And she wanted the stability of her seniority  there when she became a single mother.

Nate's company was one of the few in Manhattan to offer on-site day  care, too. The first thing she planned to do after getting a positive  pregnancy test was to register on the waiting list for a spot. Unlike so  many other working women, she'd be able to swing by the nursery and  breastfeed her baby. Given all that she'd read on the mommy forums she'd  begun trolling, that luxury was worth its weight in gold.                       
       
           



       

Maybe Nate didn't know it, but Lauren was about to become the most loyal  employee who ever lived. She nibbled on her roll and checked the  private jet's flight plans for Beijing again.

And tried really hard to forget about Mike Beacon's smile.





SIXTEEN


TAMPA, FLORIDA

MAY 2016


Two days later, the team did only a short practice in Tampa, to keep the  guys rested before game two. But Beacon spent some extra time with  Silas and the goaltending coach, practicing drills and reviewing  strategy.

Silas looked good, too. No matter what Coach fired at him he stayed  cool, deflecting puck after puck with a Zen-like concentration.

"You were killing it out there," Beacon said as they got dressed after  showering. They were the last two in the locker room. Their teammates  were already watching tape in the conference room. "You feel good?"

"Sure. But I always feel good in practice. I don't blow it until later,"  the kid grumbled. He was probably thinking back to his last time in the  net-in February. Mike had gotten a touch of food poisoning and Silas  was called in last minute. The game had been a total disaster.

"Hey," Mike said, squeezing the kid's shoulder. "Don't talk yourself  down. It's not like you to get all mopey. You're a better team player  than that. I heard you were doing great in Hartford this spring, too."  Though it was unlikely the kid would mind the net at any point during  the play-offs, unless Mike got hurt.

Silas grit his teeth. "Did pretty good in Hartford. But my expectations  were pretty low, so I wasn't a basket case, you know? I didn't used to  be that guy who cracks under pressure. But now that I know how it feels  to be that guy, I don't know how to shake it off."

"You go back to basics," Beacon said. "You remind yourself there's never  been a goalie with a hundred percent save average. Never. That's what I  tell myself every time someone scores on me."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. Because if I stand there and worry about it, I'm not doing my job  for the team. My job isn't to feel bad about what just happened. My job  is to make the next save. And I can't do that if I'm beating myself  up."

Silas made a grunt of acknowledgement. Beacon thumped the kid on the  back and left the lockers, ducking into the conference room where the  rest of his team was watching video from their first game in Tampa.  They'd lost 2 – 1, but they weren't disheartened. Not yet. They'd fought  hard, and their opponent had gotten lucky with both unlikely bounces of  the puck and with the ref's calls.

Tampa was crackable. Everyone knew it.

"Look," Coach Worthington said as he pressed Pause on the footage. He  pointed at the screen. "That's a little sloppy right there. It's the  same story we've been looking at all morning. This team has had terrific  success the last couple of years, and everyone expects great things  from them. But they look stressed out and it shows in their skating."

He turned, and his gaze took in every man in the room. "We can do this.  It isn't about skills anymore. And it isn't about the stats. We've got  those already, and we're pretty healthy, too. The team who wins this  series will be the team who believes it can. It's going to be about  heart, and about faith. I have mine." He put a hand to his chest. "Right  here. So I need you to show me yours tonight. Bring it with you from  this room, and carry it with you onto the ice."

Mike lifted his gaze to the frozen players on the screen-to Tampa's  center lunging for the puck. Coach was right. These guys were hungry,  but their hunger had a wild-eyed desperation to it. They feared coming  close to the Cup yet another year, and then failing in the clutch.

He could work with that.

"Beacon," Coach said. "Something on your mind?"

"Yeah." He must have been smiling. "I think you're right, Coach. They're  feeling the strain. We can use it. They're gonna fight dirty, though.  Be ready for that, guys."

"Yeah." O'Doul nodded from across the table. "So I think we try to keep  our noses clean for the first period tonight. Neither Crikey or I will  throw down, even if we're baited early. I think it'll make 'em crazy if  we hold off a bit. Let these guys simmer."

A chuckle moved through the room, and several players nodded.

"I like it," Coach said. "Cooler heads prevail, and all that. We're back  on our home ice after this one, too. The tide is about to turn in our  favor. I can feel it. And now I want you boys rested. Go upstairs and  take a nap, okay? Turn your phones off. No caffeine. We'll see you at  five thirty for yoga." He stood up, and the meeting was adjourned.                       
       
           



       

He headed outdoors instead of upstairs. Most guys would order room  service and then try to sleep. But he was too keyed up, so he went out  to the poolside tiki bar and ordered a grilled chicken sandwich. He ate  it watching sports highlights on TV-including video of himself making a  couple of saves.

"What do you think?" the kid tending bar asked, topping up Mike's ice water glass.

"Coulda gone worse," he said.

The kid grinned. "I'm rooting for you guys."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Grew up in Jersey."

"Well, thanks." Though it was probably a ruse meant to improve his tip.

"Don't mention it."

When he was done, Mike left the kid a generous tip, no matter who the  kid was rooting for. He still wasn't sleepy, but the rows of aqua-blue  lounge chairs beckoned to him. Carrying his water glass with him, he  bypassed all the ones facing the pool in favor of a row in the distance.  That spot looked more private, so he headed over, hoping to find it  relatively empty.

It was, except for one stunning woman in a bikini and sunglasses, a  laptop open on her belly. His heart tripped over its own feet.

Lauren.

Wordlessly, Mike kicked off his shoes and sat down on the deck chair.  Then he shucked off his shirt and lay back, closing his eyes. "Nice  office you got here," he said.

"I know, right?" Her eyes remained focused on the screen. "Some business  trips are easier than others. Sometimes you get a deck chair, and  sometimes you're in the Middle East, wearing a potato sack and covering  your hair."

"Seriously?"

"Sure. In Riyadh our hotel had a women's only floor, which was pretty trippy."

"Where else have you been with Nate?" He stretched out as the sun began  to warm his chest, and he hoped she'd keep talking. Sunshine and  Lauren's voice-two things he didn't have enough of.

"Shanghai. Tokyo. Singapore. Taiwan. Turns out conference rooms look the same everywhere."

"That's all you see?"

"No-we always have at least a day of sightseeing. Nate's fun. I've been  to the Great Wall of China. Another time he booked us a sushi-eating  tour of Tokyo. I've never been so full in my life."

He chuckled, his eyes closed against the sun's rays. He hoped Lauren had  had a lot of fun on Nate's dime, and a big, exciting life these past  two years. He ached just to hear how much he'd missed.

I haven't trusted anyone since, she'd said the other night. It killed him to know he'd done that to her.

"Aren't you supposed to be upstairs resting?" she asked.

"I'm resting. Look at me rest." He held perfectly still. But then he opened one eye to see if she was looking.

Nope.

Figures.

"Hey, Lo?" he asked. "You need me to rub any sunscreen on your back?" He  didn't mind sounding like a lovesick teenager if she'd keep talking to  him.