Power Play Read Free

Matthews. What the hell kind of a name is Chessy?” Gloria scoffed.
    â€œEither fake or it’s her boarding school name.”
    Monica had never had a boarding school name, though she remembered plenty of girls who did. Sparky. Chessy. Binky. Mon just didn’t cut it, though Monica remembered one of her classmates, Juliet “Jools” Spencer, always talking to her in a fake Jamaican accent, saying things like, “ Irie , Mon, help me with this calculus,” which Jools thought was hilarious. Monica wondered where Jools was now. Probably finishing up her summer in the Hamptons with investment banker husband number two and spoiled kids named Lincoln and Madison. A slight shiver of envy went through Monica.
    â€œI’ll be curious to see if she can actually act,” said Gloria, “or if this is another case of Ricardo being blinded by a C-cup.”
    â€œWe’ll see.” Monica was actually looking forward to someone new on the show with whom her character would interact frequently. It could be challenging.
    Gloria snuffed out her cigarette and rose. “I’ll let you get back to your shut-eye. See you on the set in forty?”
    Monica nodded as Gloria departed, quietly closing the door behind her. A new costar. Something interesting was happening next week after all.
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    â€œYo, the savior of the Blades has arrived.”
    Brimming with self-confidence, Eric Mitchell scanned the locker room, waiting for his new teammates to respond to his announcement. Instead, he was greeted by scowls, glares, and the unmistakable look of resentment. What the hell was wrong with these guys?
    One of the most piercing glares came from Eric’s twin brother, Jason, who now thought he was hot shit because he was an assistant captain. The team had a new assistant coach, too: Michael Dante. The head coach was still the legendary ballbuster, Ty Gallagher.
    â€œWhat my brother means—” Jason began.
    â€œIs what he said,” defenseman Ulf Torkelson finished for him, planting himself so close to Eric their noses were practically touching. “Listen up, dickwad: until you prove yourself on the ice, no one in here believes you’re the next Brian Leetch. Got it?”
    Eric returned Ulf’s attempt at an intimidating stare. He’d gone toe-to-toe with him on the ice for years. If his new teammate thought he was going to squeak out a meek, “Okay, whatever you say,” he was wrong.
    Ulf kept staring. Eric stared back, though out of the corner of his eye, he caught the look of mortification momentarily crossing his brother’s face. Clearly Jason thought he was handling this all wrong. Not to worry, Bro. I can hold my own.
    The staring contest ended with Ulf shoving Eric’s shoulder. “You hear me?”
    â€œTell me again. I forgot.”
    By now, all the Blades had drawn closer to the two men, ringing them in a semicircle. Were he and the Ulfinator on the ice, gloves would have been dropped, and they’d already be at it. As it was, Eric could feel his adrenaline begin to rise. Ulf wanted a fight? He’d picked the right guy.
    â€œCut the shit, both of you.”
    New captain Tully Webster pushed the two men apart, his glare outshining everyone else’s. “This is not the way I want to start the new season.” He turned to Eric. “Glad to have you aboard, but it might serve you better to keep your mouth shut for now, okay?” His body swiveled to Ulf’s. “As for you, save the threats for the ice.”
    Eric gave a curt nod that mirrored Ulf’s. Ulf turned away, angrily pushing his way through his teammates to head for the showers. One by one, the other Blades drifted toward their lockers or the shower, but not before throwing Eric a dirty look. Eric met each and every look with an unapologetic expression.
    Whether they liked it or not, they did need him, which is why he’d been traded from Jersey for two young