were projected to clear millions of dollars on that tech item in just the first year.” I sighed. “Instead it cost us money and face.”
“And that was the final gong for the Digi-Dong corporation. May their dong finally be at rest.”
I laughed. “Smartass.”
“Feel better?”
“Some.” But it wouldn’t stop me from doing my due diligence after hours on potential acquisitions.
“Here’s what’ll put a skip back in your loafers. Saturday night we’re having a preview party for the barcade.”
“Already? They got that done fast.”
“Seems like a lifetime ago that Dallas brought me the concept. The speakeasy is still months out from opening for business. Annika believes having one ‘high-concept’ space open while building mystique around the second bar will be to our advantage.”
Our younger cousin Annika was a PR wiz, so I didn’t doubt she had it all mapped out. “What’s the dress code for the barcade?”
Jax groaned. “Of course that’s the first question you asked. It’s on the official invite; they went out today. All I’ve been told . . . it’s supersecret, super VIP. No kids. No cameras.”
Mimi skated up and leaned on the railing. “Uncle Nolan! Didja come to see me practice?”
“Yes, I did. You’re looking good out there, short stuff.”
“Didja see I won my race?”
The whistle blew and Coach Welk skated behind Mimi. “Lund. This is not a social hour. Get back with your group.”
“Yes, Coach Welk.” Mimi skated off.
Gabi looked at Jax. “Was there something specific you needed, boss?”
“Nope.”
“Then with all due respect, sir, you and Mr. Fancy Pants are welcome to take your gossip session elsewhere. You’re distracting my class.”
My eyebrows rose. So I was back to being Mr. Fancy Pants.
“We were just leaving, Coach Welk,” Jax assured her.
I followed him out of the arena.
Once we were out of earshot, he whirled around. “What did you do to Gabi to piss her off?”
“Nothing! In fact, last week we even went out for drinks.”
Jax’s eyes narrowed. “Jesus, Nolan. Did you hit on her?”
“No. I wasn’t drinking.”
A loud harrumph sounded and then Margene, the rink GM, sauntered out from behind the front desk. “Of course a man like you would have to be drunk to hit on a woman like her, isn’t that right?”
I looked at Jax, who stared back at me with the same puzzled expression.
“What did I miss?”
“You’re smart. You’ll figure it out. Or you won’t.” Margene shrugged. “I kinda hope you don’t. Be fun to see how it plays out. I wouldn’t want to tangle with her.”
We watched Margene storm down the hallway to the bathroom and slam the door.
Jax said, “I’m confused.”
“Join the club.”
“You really didn’t hit on Gabi? Because if you did, she’d tell Margene since they’re tight.”
“I swear I didn’t. We played pool. That was it. I didn’t even drive her home, although I was there as her DD.”
“Then how’d she get home?”
“No idea. She disappeared for twenty minutes and when I went looking for her, the cocktail waitress said someone else had picked her up.” At the time I’d figured she’d barfed in the bathroom from too much tequila and had bailed on me to save face. Which was why I hadn’t contacted her.
But what if I’d been wrong? What if there’d been another reason she’d left?
Jax poked me in the chest to get my attention. “Whatever you did, you’d better fix it.”
“Even if I don’t know what it is?”
“Yep. Come on. Let’s finalize the dates for the youth bowlathon.”
Five
GABI
And go!”
I skated backward as I watched my 14U girls team work on rebounding. So far, I’d barely convinced them that knowing how to rebound was just as important in hockey as it was in basketball. The puck was already by the net. Move in, move out, constant movement on the puck forced the opposing team into defensive mode. If they came forward with the intention to steal, that’s when high shots were magic. A wrister BOOM. Nothing but net.
The arena is a noisy place, so I usually found myself yelling over the din. At times I wondered if I’d forgotten what a normal tone of voice sounds like.
“Keena! Don’t hug the wall. Move in.” I’d finally gotten these girls to listen without having to look at me and that had improved their playing by two hundred percent.
I blew the whistle to signal a line change after Parker whizzed the puck past Kari, who hadn’t been paying attention, resulting in icing for Team A.
Anna, my co-coach, used a different-pitched whistle to signal her players to switch lines. In truth, I’d gotten hired