Pucking Strong: An MM Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 4)

“Look, Henrik, I don’t know what else to say. You made a commitment. They set the campaign filming schedule around the preapproved dates you sent to them back in July—”

“But my situation has changed,” I snap into the phone, juggling three bags of groceries one-handed as I reach in my pocket for my apartment keys. “Did you tell them my situation has changed?”

“I did—”

“I can’t fly to New York right now to shoot an ad campaign. My niece needs me here. The season is about to start, so I’ll already be traveling. Christ, I haven’t even secured her a teacher yet. I just—I need you to ask them for an extension. Four months. Surely, they can extend my contract and film within four months?”

My agent is quiet for a moment. In her silence, I make my way out of the elevator and down the hall to my apartment door. “Henrik, trust me, I understand your situation. But I’m telling you that they can’t offer you that kind of extension. If you can’t make the dates work now, dates you picked, then it’s looking like you’re gonna have to let this campaign go—”

I hang up the phone. It’s the height of rudeness, and I’ll apologize profusely later, but in this moment, I just need it all to stop. This is the third piece of bad news I’ve received this morning.

It all began when my parents’ neighbor, Petter Friberg, woke me at four in the morning to tell me my father sprained his ankle falling off a stepladder. Apparently, he was trying to change a burned-out light bulb in the kitchen. Mom was in distress, and Dad was saying he wouldn’t go to the doctor. I managed to calm her down enough to convince her to let Petter’s wife stay for coffee while Petter took Dad into town.

Shortly after I got the update from Petter that it was only a sprain, Karolina’s new at-home tutor messaged to say she was taking a different teaching job. Now my agent is saying my latest endorsement deal is gone because I can’t drop everything and fly to New York to shoot the ads. That campaign was going to earn me over a million dollars. But I just can’t do it. Not now. Not with the season opener and Karro and—god, what am I going to do about her teacher? She can’t attend school, injured as she is. Not until January at the earliest. That’s what Teddy and I agreed.

But she must have a teacher. The conditions of the custody agreement are strict. Elin is already breathing down my neck every day, asking me for the documents I can send to the court as proof of her enrollment.

I just don’t know what to do. Everything feels so impossible. I couldn’t keep Petra from getting hit by a drunk driver. I can’t mend Karro’s broken bones. I can’t keep my father from climbing ladders. Can’t hire a teacher. Can’t fulfill my contractual commitments to my sponsors. I can barely get my damn key in the door!

After fumbling with the lock, I push the door open, all the while juggling the heavy bags of groceries.

Teddy sits up. “Hey, Morbror’s home. Wanna see what we did today?”

“Morbror, look,” Karolina calls.

Hanging my keys on the hook by the door, I take in their smiling faces. Karolina is sitting on the sofa, surrounded by art supplies. Scraps of paper and every color of crayon and pencil lie scattered all over the coffee table. Her cheeks are rosy with laughter, all evidence of her black eye nearly gone.

Teddy’s smile falls. He gets up from the floor, the paper in his hand fluttering away. “Henrik …”

“Look,” Karolina says again, pointing with her crayon at the wall.

Taking a deep breath, I turn. The narrow stretch of white wall next to the doorway is now a five-year-old’s personal art studio. It’s a riot of color—rainbows and princesses, unicorns, flowers. There’s even what looks like a portrait of me playing hockey and Teddy holding Teddy the Bear.

“Teddy calls it ‘Princess Karolina’s Magical Wall of Fun,’” Karro says in Swedish. “I wanted to draw your friend Elin, but Teddy said lawyers aren’t fun.”

“What are you saying about me?” Teddy teases in English.

Karro goes stiff, eyes wide, looking like she’s just been caught sneaking cookies from the jar.

“I’m hearing my name. What did we say about speaking Swedish when Uncle Teddy is in the room?”

She giggles. “I won’t say it!”

“What’s the rule?” he challenges. “If you speak Swedish and Uncle Teddy hears his name, you have to say it.”

“No,” she squeals, trying to hide under her blanket.noveldrama

“Say it!”

“No,” she says through a muffled laugh.

“Say it, or I’m eating all the ice cream!”

Slowly, she peels down the corner of her blanket, still giggling. Her face is bright pink, eyes alight, as she glances from me back to Teddy. Finally, she opens her mouth and gasps out in English, “I’m a Swedish meatball!”

Once the words are said, she disappears back under her blanket, laughing hysterically. Teddy uses the distraction to cross to my side. His voice is low and tense. “What’s wrong?”

Glancing her way, I just shake my head. I can’t do this here, not in front of Karolina. Or Teddy. I have to stay strong for them. I have to stay focused.

Teddy grabs my arm, takes the grocery bags, and guides me around the back of the sofa. “Karro, honey, Morbror and I will be right back. Don’t move, okay? Make like a meatball and just sit.”

She laughs harder at this. The joyous sound should bring me comfort. Instead, it only makes me feel worse. I’m failing her. I’m failing them all. God, my parents. Mom sounded so panicked on the phone this morning.

“Come on.” Teddy pulls me through the apartment, tossing the grocery bags on the counter in the kitchen. He doesn’t stop until he’s dragged me all the way through my bathroom and into the closet. Dropping my hand, he turns, blocking the doorway, hands on his hips. “Okay, now tell me. What the hell happened?”

I just shake my head. I feel like a dam, holding back the worries of the world. God, and if I break?

He sighs. “Henrik, I can’t help if you won’t tell me.”

“I’m failing,” I say on a breath. “Teddy, I can’t—can’t do this. It’s too much.”

“What’s too much?” He steps closer. “Talk to me. Let me help you.”

I close my eyes tight. “I’m trying. Christ, Teddy, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well maybe I do know what to do. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me try to help.”

I take a deep breath, and let it out. Then I open my eyes, letting the kindness in his expression anchor me. “My dad fell off a ladder today.”

His eyes go wide. “Oh shit. Well, is he okay? And your mom?”

“She was shaken up, but she’s okay. And it was just a sprain. Their neighbor called and woke me at four in the morning to tell me.”

“Jesus,” he mutters. “Why didn’t you tell me this morning?”

“Teddy, I don’t know what else to do. They won’t go to a care home, and they won’t let me hire in help.” Groaning, I step away from him, sinking back until I drop down onto the bench seat. Elbows on my knees, I hang my head, gaze locked on the carpet. “I thought Petter was calling to say one of them was dead. Or maybe Mom left the stove on and burned down the house. Whenever I get a call now, I’m always expecting the worst.”

“Hen …” Teddy drops to his knees in front of me and places his hands on my forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry. That has to be so scary.”

I just nod. What else can I do?

He rocks back on his heels, searching my face. “Is that all that’s bothering you? I mean, that’s plenty. But … is that all?”

I take another breath and let it out. “Karolina’s teacher canceled her contract.”

“What? Why?”

“Apparently, she got a more lucrative job teaching English in Portugal. She moves there in two weeks.”

“Well, shit. Did you have any other names you can call? Any leads?”

It pains me to admit the truth, but I have no pride left. “None. Honestly, I don’t even know where to look. And just now, my agent called to tell me I lost a brand endorsement deal. It was worth over a million dollars.”

“Fuck. Did she say why?”

Sighing, I lean back against the wall. “It was a timing issue. I can’t shoot the ads now, and they won’t renew or extend the contract.”

He’s quiet for a moment, considering the options. “Okay, well, I won’t pretend I know anything about endorsements or brand sponsorships, so Laura’s gonna have to handle that for you.”

I nod. I know I owe her an apology. She’s been nothing but good to me. I’ll just add it to my growing list of things to do.

“As for your parents … you know, these things often have a way of working themselves out,” he says gently. “It could be that this fall helps them see their own mortality. Maybe it will scare your dad into being more willing to accept help. I say give him a couple days to recover, then call and broach the subject again.”

It’s a sensible suggestion, even if I feel certain Dad won’t see reason.

“And as to the problem of Karro’s teacher, leave that with me.”

“Teddy, I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” he says over me, rising to his feet. “Can’t trust me?”

“No, of course I trust you.”

His hands go to his hips as he glares down at me. “Oh, so you just can’t rely on me. I’ve let you down one too many times?”

“You know you haven’t.”

“So, then you just can’t bother me. Is that where we’re at again? Karolina’s schooling is too far beneath my notice?”

I sigh, utterly defeated. “Teddy …”

“Leave it with me,” he says again. “You tried it your way. Now it’s my turn.” He slips his phone from his pocket, typing away with his thumbs.

“I already tried calling the local schools. They won’t release the names or numbers of any certified substitute instructors.”

He just scoffs, turning away. “Yeah, as if I’d waste my time doing that. I said trust me, Henrik. I’m gonna have this settled within the hour.”

“What are you doing?” I follow him out of the closet and back into the bathroom. “Who are you talking to?”

“The people you should have been talking to the moment we signed the papers back in Sweden,” he says over his shoulder, still walking away. “The people who know the most about starting over in a new city with a young family.”

“Who?”

He stops in the hallway, and I nearly bump into him. His phone is already pinging with alerts. Turning around, he flashes me his phone screen. He has three new messages. “Who else? Your teammates’ wives.”