Page 1 of Charm on the Rocks
Chapter 1
Even now, with her bare feet swallowed by the warm, smooth sand and the sound of the small waves crashing into the shore, Madison Montgomery could not believe she was at the beach for the first of several charitable events the Seagulls hosted before, during, and after their hockey season. The disbelief did not stem from the fact that she was there or that she was at a hockey-related beach party. It was that she was there as a Gulls Girl, dressed in nothing but a micro bikini, doing most of the brunt work due to her ranking as a rookie.
When Madison came out to California from a small town in Michigan, she never would have thought that she, out of all people, would apply for the position of a Gulls Girl. Not that they were bad or immoral or anything like that. In fact, she regarded Gulls Girls and similar ice girls for different hockey teams to be much classier than cheerleaders and Hooters girls. They didn’t have to cheer or dance or do anything blatantly exploitive; all they had to do was scrape ice off the rink during breaks as fast as they could throughout a game while maintaining a big smile and looking pretty. Sure, their outfits were revealing and the makeup could be a little dramatic, but nothing compared to the short skirts or the face paint cheerleaders wore. And while it was practically a requirement that she portray happiness and perhaps engage in flirtatious banter when necessary, she didn’t have to be on constantly.
She heard about the auditions through a bulletin board she happened to pass while exploring the campus of the University of California, Irvine, and after reading the requirements and expectations, she realized that maybe she could give it a try. She didn’t actually think she’d be called back for an extensive interview, and on top of that, get the position, especially since one characteristic that was necessary was passion for the Gulls. Even more than that, she didn’t expect to have to provide her academic transcript, but one of requirements to get and maintain a position as a Gulls Girl was to have a grade point average of at least a 3.0 if they were students. After talking to other Girls, Madison learned that the owner of the Gulls, Ken Brown, implemented that himself, which meant that every other team’s ice crew didn’t have to keep up with their studies on top of work. This seemed to frustrate a lot of the Girls, but it made Madison respect the owner even more than she might have; intelligence was just as much of a requirement as was good looks. Still, it was just a job, and that was that.
Hockey had never been important to her, but her father was really into it so she just channeled one of his long rant-like explanations about why he loved the Detroit Mustangs so much, making key changes such as the team name, when asked about what made her enthusiastic about being a Gulls Girl. But in past few weeks, as she spent more and more time with her fellow Girls, who really were passionate about the Gulls, the excitement at the start of the upcoming season rubbed off on her.
But there were moments when she wished that she hadn’t made the team. Like right now.
Madison grew up in a conservative family, and though she liked wearing shorts and low-cut tops, she wasn’t completely comfortable showing off so much skin in one setting. Yes, she was at the beach, and yes, she expected that being oogled at by middle-aged, slightly drunk hockey fans would be part of the job, but that logic didn’t do anything to help her relax. Especially not when the season was supposed to start in a manner of weeks, and not only that, but their first preseason game – her official debut as a Gulls Girl, so to speak – was in six days, and school was supposed to start around the same time...
Calm down, Mads. Breathe.
She didn’t deal with stress well.
Try to focus on something else.
Her eyes skimmed the crowd and zeroed in on a girl, probably her age, grab a hot dog and pile on condiments. She felt her lips curl up into a smile at the sight – it was nice to see women around here eat like they meant it – and Madison felt her shoulders loosen up. Turning, she continued on with menial task her captain, Faye Winchester, assigned her to; restocking the drinks, which basically meant taking soda, beer, and water and placing them in ice coolers. And, when somebody asked for something, she was supposed to grab one, smile, and engage in a brief but memorable conversation. Luckily for Madison, her friend Amanda Vaughn volunteered to help her.
Amanda would have been the perfect cheerleader, or so Madison kept telling her. She was peppy and naturally happy. People were just drawn to her excitement, including Madison, and there were moments when she was thankful she had Amanda with her or else she’d feel more alone than she currently did. On top of that, Amanda knew everything about everyone, and though she wasn’t a mean gossip, she was still a gossip. This came in handy because Madison had yet to learn the names, faces, numbers, and positions of the Gulls, and since all Madison and Amanda could do was stand still and hand out beverages to anybody who happened to be parched, both agreed that now was the perfect time to help Madison increase her knowledge.
“Okay, let’s start with the easy one,” Amanda began, once some housewife with a bottle of Evian was out of earshot. “See the guy with that light blue shirt on and all those tattoos?” Madison nodded. “He’s Matthew Peters. He plays center forward. Number twenty. He’s been dating Katella Hanson for two years now – she’s Ken Brown’s oldest granddaughter. The two are so cute together.”
Madison took in the olive skin, the short dark brown hair combed to the back. His face was narrow and sharp, his eyes one shade lighter than his hair color. Tattoos seemed to be swimming over every crevice of his body, and yet, as he smiled while talking to somebody, he didn’t seem as intimidating as one might first assume.
“Where is Katella?” Madison asked, looking over at her friend.
Amanda’s already pale face seemed to pale even more, causing the freckles that were splashed across her face to stand out even more than they already did. “Oh.” She swallowed, her expressive brown eyes glancing around at everything save for Madison herself. “Um, well...” She sighed, and Madison wondered if it was genuine or dramatic flair. “Katella’s probably with Seraphina, her sister, you know, because of... Well... Ken, the owner?” Again, she looked around, this time as though she was checking up to make sure no one could overhear their conversation. “Well, he passed away. He’s dead.”
“Oh.” It was more of a yelp then a word. Madison rolled her shoulders back in order to try and get a bit more comfortable. “I’m sorry. Was it natural causes?”
“Oh no.” The question seemed to surprise her. “He was murdered.”
“Murdered?” Okay, Madison highly doubted that rolling her shoulders back was going to take care of the discomfort that was slowly starting to tighten in the muscles between her shoulder blades.
“Well,” Amanda said in a whisper, “that’s what they’re saying. That’s why Katella and Seraphina aren’t here, even though Katella normally coordinates all Gulls activities and Seraphina is rumored to be taking over for Ken.”
Madison blinked a few times before shaking her head. “Wow,” she murmured more to herself than to her friend. “That’s horrible.”
Because, really, what else could she say?
Amanda nodded solemnly. “Yeah...” She sighed through her nose. “Not to be crude or anything, but maybe we should keep talking about who the players are and that sort of thing.”
Madison nodded but couldn’t find the words to say anything. She couldn’t even imagine what it was like to inherit a lackluster hockey team – at least, that’s what she heard from her father about the Gulls – due to the death of a family member, and so close to the beginning of the season. Both women must be under a lot of stress.
“Why is this going on?” Madison asked somewhat abruptly, even for her. At Amanda’s curious look, she explained, “I mean, if the owner’s passed and in such an awful way, isn’t it a little disrespectful to be throwing this event?”
“No, I think the sisters wanted to move forward with this,” Amanda said. “Even with everything going on.” Then she pointed at someone across to the ocean to a man walking away from the girl Madison recognized as the one who had grabbed the hot dog from before. “See him? That’s Kyle Underwood. Left forward. Number sixteen.”
Madison took in the sight of the tall, lanky forward. He had broad shoulders that were revealed quite nicely underneath a white wife beater, and, if she was being honest, a nice looking torso. But Madison had always favored more muscle on her preferred choice in a mate, and while Kyle was tall and fit, he wasn’t as beefy as she would have preferred. Of course, as a Gulls Girl, she was strictly forbidden to socialize with the players outside a professional context, but it wasn’t prohibited to look. Kyle also possessed a rather boyish face, and even though Amanda mentioned that he was twenty-five, he could easily pass for nineteen. But he had striking, clear, blue eyes, short, strawberry blond hair, and a nicely structured face which happened to be turning red simply because of the sun’s powerful rays.
Cute. Definitely cute.
“He’s not dating anybody right now, I don’t think,” Amanda continued. “Which is too bad. He’s a beast on the ice, but I hear he’s a shy guy in real life. Like a closet romantic or something adorable like that.”
Madison nodded politely, but none of the information registered. She wasn’t too keen on dating anybody really right now; she needed to focus on school and this job, as stereotypical as it sounded.