Body Check Read Free Page B

perpetually stained tie, he didn’t exactly cut a professional figure. Yet there was something about him—maybe it was his New York bluntness, or the unconscious way he seemed to pop a Tums every five minutes—that made him kind of endearing. Janna found herself giving him the benefit of the doubt as he multitasked, chewing and talking at the same time.
    â€œKidco needs these guys to clean up their act. Correction: they demand it. The players aren’t bad guys, but the problem is that a lot ’em grew up in East Butthole, Canada, you hear what I’m saying? The big excitement of their life was shooting pucks at their little brother’s head and watching reruns of Three’s Company on the CBC. Now, all of a sudden, they’re in the NHL, they’re making big money. They start going a little nuts with the wine, women, and song stuff. Kidco wants Blades PR to play up the guys who are married with kids. And they want all of ’em to start going out and doing charity stuff.”
    â€œBecause the more coverage the players get in the regular press and on TV, the higher the profile of the game, the more tickets we sell, and the richer Kidco becomes,” Janna rejoined knowingly.
    Lou’s caterpillar-size eyebrows shot up. “You got a problem with that?”
    â€œNot at all,” Janna assured him. “It’s the nature of the beast, I know that.”
    Lou nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his shirt sleeve. “Now. I know you can do this job with your eyes closed, and that’s why I want you. I’ve been told you’re great at what you do, you got contacts up the wazoo, and if you were able to turn those Gotham brats into Oprah material, I got no doubt you can spruce up the public’s perception of the Blades, most of whom really aren’t as wild as the press make them out to be.” He frowned. “Only problem might be Gallagher.”
    That was when he’d explained to Janna about the captain. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, a great hockey player,” Lou insisted, stifling a burp. “But he’s a huge pain in my ass, a real arrogant SOB. Thinks publicity is a waste of time, a distraction. For him, the only thing that matters is those sixty minutes on the ice, period, end of story. Off the ice, he likes to lead the good life: the best restaurants, the best looking women, you get the picture. He’s a bit of a playboy, and Corporate isn’t happy with it.”
    â€œSo you want me to get him to tone it down, is that it?”
    â€œYeah, because if you can get him to keep a lid on it, the rest of the team will follow suit. They’d follow that bastard into the jaws of hell if he asked. Jesus, if you were able to get that anorexic airhead with the silicone chest who plays Treva on your show to do community service—whazzername—?”
    â€œMalo St. John,” Janna supplied, stifling a laugh.
    â€œâ€”then I know you can get Gallagher to turn it around. Kidco wants people to see there’s more to him than his goddamn obsessive will to win and his never-ending desire to sample the flavor of the month. They want all of them to be perceived as caring about Joe Schmoe on the street who pays to see them play. It’s important the public thinks they’re more than a pack of rowdies with too much money and too little regard for decency, for Chrissakes.”
    â€œI’m sure I can do it,” Janna asserted confidently, even though she wasn’t sure at all. “But you need to make it worth my while to leave Gotham .”
    Lou offhandedly quoted her a salary, and she damn near fell off her chair. She never imagined making money like that in a million years. Still, she played it cool. “And what about stock options? 401(k)? Wardrobe allowance? Vacation time? Assistants?”
    Lou sighed, pushing a glossy maroon folder embossed with the word Kidco in silver across the