Page 4 of Charm on the Rocks
Finally, she heard the clack-clack-clack of someone coming down the long hallway. Everyone craned their heads in order to see if it was – Yes, it was Seraphina Hanson, or so said Amanda. Madison had never seen or met Seraphina, and she couldn’t help but feel a sudden kinship with the woman because Seraphina seemed to be new to this foreign society of hockey, and it looked as though that while she tried to carry herself with confident posture, she had an entire world on her slender shoulders.
It was her eyes, Madison decided. Though she was a few feet away, walking to where a small bench had been placed so Seraphina could stand and her audience would able to see and hear her, Madison was stricken by the uncommon color of Seraphina’s eyes. They were predominantly a sea-blue color, but golden flecks splashed across the irises resembled a sunset or a sunrise depending on how you viewed life on the ocean. And the funny thing was, Seraphina wasn’t actually wearing makeup unless chapstick counted. If she splashed on eyeliner, those eyes would be the focal point of any room, crowded or empty.
Seraphina stepped up to the podium, took a deep breath, and began to speak.
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Madison couldn’t even imagine what Seraphina was going through. Her grandfather died just last week – probably murdered, or that was what Amanda claimed she heard – and she inherited the team – a team she knew absolutely nothing about – where no doubt she’d get shit from opposing teams and owners as well as her own players and staff. She set herself up for criticisms, constructive or not, from everybody simply to continue on her grandfather’s loyalty. On top of that, she had to deal with her grandfather’s death. It sounded like they had been close, too.
Madison was just a girl from a small town. No one in her family had died; she even had both sets of grandparents still alive and kicking. It was such a strange concept to her, but seeing a victim of a loss just reinforced the concept of mortality and reminded her that she was lucky.
“I think I like her,” Amanda said.
Madison was thankful for the interruption. Death wasn’t a subject she liked to dwell on too much. “Me, too,” she agreed.
“I wonder what she has to talk to Thorpe about,” Amanda said, directing her brown eyes at the two as they headed up the stairs by themselves.
“Well, you said he was the one who was holding out for more money, right?” Madison asked. “She probably wants some final decision made, especially if preseason starts soon.”
Amanda’s face suddenly paled. “You don’t think that Thorpe, I mean with talks about money and everything, you don’t think he could” – She stopped herself, noticing someone behind Madison, and forced a smile. “Alec, good to see you.” She looked over at Madison, and her brown eyes calmed down a bit from the worry they had just held. “I’ll see you later, Mad. Take care.” And just like that, Amanda disappeared up the stairs.
Madison frowned as she turned to face Alec, her mind wracking with all the possibilities that Amanda might have said had it not been for the man standing in front of her, staring at her without any shame. Did Amanda think that Thorpe could actually kill Ken over money? Certainly Thorpe would rather see himself traded than resort to something as awful and as life-changing as murder. Although, residing in Newport Beach, living in a huge mansion minutes – if that – from the beach, with beautiful weather and women, a laidback environment, dedicated fans, could potentially be a motive, couldn’t it? Why would Thorpe want to be traded when he could live here and make more money?
Thorpe had to know that if he even did commit the murder, it didn’t guarantee him his demands, especially not with a new owner who knew absolutely nothing about hockey.
“Hey.” The voice was low and confident, but surprisingly enough, there was an element of sweetness in it, and as Madison focused her eyes on Alec, tried to decipher whether it was genuine or forced in order to add to his endearment.
“Hi,” she said, her tone flat.
“I’m Alec Schumacher,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.” He seemed to like this response, but before the entire smile eclipsed his face, Madison continued, “I heard you get lectured by the new owner.”
“Oh.” His smile fell, but she had to hand it to him, he didn’t retreat to the safety of his friends with his tail between his legs. “Yeah, well it was a dumb question, I guess.”
This surprised her even more than his tenacity, to actually admit that he was the one who said something rather stupid instead of blowing off Seraphina’s answer as a part of her just being a bitch. Dare she think it was refreshing?
“Anyway,” he continued, clapping his hands together and locking eyes with Madison once again. “You’re the only Gulls Girl I haven’t introduced myself to. I know most of them from last season. Like I said, I’m Alec.” He extended his hand, and before Madison thought better of it, she reciprocated the gesture. “You must be new because I definitely would have remembered you.”
She snorted. And she didn’t even try to stop herself. She laughed at him. “Seriously?” she asked, giving him a pointed stare.
“Seriously what?” he asked, and though he didn’t sound particularly angry at such a blunt refusal, he did sound somewhat annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow, waiting for her response.
The more she stared at him, the more Madison realized that yes, she was definitely attracted to him. Now that she saw him up close, he was about half a head taller than she was, and his body was toned with muscles. Even now, crossing his arms over his chest caused his biceps to strangle the thin material of his t-shirt, and his eyes had a kindness about them that other so-called players couldn’t claim. Even so, she didn’t want to put her heart through the ringer; it had had enough pain in its twenty-two years of life and wasn’t quite ready to jump back in the ring just yet.
“That’s the best you could come up with?” she asked. She sighed, her shoulders sagging forward. “How... disappointing.”
“Excuse me?” He still didn’t understand, but he did appear to somewhat surprised that his usual flattery wasn’t working on her. It would take more than one superficial pickup line and good looks to wrap Madison Montgomery around his finger.
“Well, ever since I joined the team, everyone warned me about what a ladies’ man you are, how charming you are,” she explained. Then she shrugged her shoulders, making sure to keep eye contact with him. Which was rather easy to do because she really did have a weakness for blue eyes. “I guess they’ve all been exaggerating your prowess, though, because that line you just used is lackluster and unoriginal.” She reached up and squeezed his shoulder which felt just as broad as it looked. Before she could think too much on it, she released him, her arm dropping back to her side. Offering him a sympathetic smile, she added, “Better luck next time.”
With that, she spun around on the heel of her converse and followed the trickling hockey players up the stairs to the main center of the rink. Yes, she was certainly attracted to him, but the usual rush of adrenaline, the over-thinking and insecure thoughts didn’t plague her thoughts. She could do this. He wasn’t her type anyway, but it was hard to forget that when he was in street clothes. And if he wore glasses, she just might be doomed. For now, she could do this. She had to.
Now that the initial meeting was over with, Madison would probably free from Alec Schumacher’s so- called wooing capabilities. He would probably find some poor girl who was completely infatuated with him and what he represented. It most certainly would not be her.