Page 2 of Puck Your Charity

The sincere defense thaws a fraction of the ice in my chest. I like the third guy.

A fourth voice joins the conversation with a smooth, laid-back sigh. "He makes a good point, man. Just relax."

"Show some damn respect. We do this, and you smile and sign whatever the kid puts in front of you. If you act like a prick in that room, I'll put you through the boards at practice tomorrow. Understand?" The gruff second voice drops into a warning growl.

A tense silence stretches in the hallway.

"Fine." Victor spits the word out. "Let's just get this nightmare over with."

I stand frozen against the wall. My chest heaves with barely contained rage. I categorize Victor as a callous, spoiled piece of trash. I don't care how many goals he scores or how famous he is. He is dead to me.

But I can't ruin this for Sam. Sam is counting down the seconds until he gets to meet them. If I walk over there and kick them out, Sam will be heartbroken.

I take a deep breath. I force my muscles to relax. I'm a professional. I deal with difficult, terrible people all the time. I will manage this pompous jerk, get Sam his autographs, and then gladly kick them to the curb.

I take a grounding breath and force my best customer-service smile. Stepping away from the wall I march around the corner.

Four massive men stand in a cluster outside the waiting room doors. They all wear matching gold and black Iron Wolves tracksuits. The sheer size of them takes up the entire width of the corridor. They look like they could tip a minivan over if they pushed hard enough.

The conversation stops the second I appear. Four pairs of eyes lock onto me.

I walk right up to them. I stop a polite distance away and cross my arms. I stare at the one with the snooty English aesthetic. "Hi gentlemen. I'm Olive Blanchard. I'll be your Make-A-Wish Foundation guide for Sam's visit today."

Victor stares down at me. He looks attractive in a cold, aristocratic way. He has a carved jawline, pale skin, and icy eyes. His blond hair holds a rigid style. He looks impeccable. He also looks uncomfortable.

I hold his gaze for three solid seconds. My smile stops short of my eyes. I want him to know that I heard every word he said. I want him to feel the judgment radiating off me.

He blinks and shifts his weight, looking away toward the ceiling tiles.

Asshole.

The guy standing next to him steps forward. He has messy auburn hair, a rugged jaw covered in a light scruff, and warm, crinkling eyes.

He extends a hand. "Nice to meet you, Olive. I'm Finn Hayes. These are Malcolm Walker and Lawrence Davis."

He gestures to the two towering guys behind him. Malcolm has long dark hair tied back in a neat braid and features that belong on a billboard. Lawrence has warm golden skin and an easy, relaxed posture. They both give me polite nods.

I shake Finn's hand. His grip feels careful, used to adjusting his strength for regular people.

Finn drops his hand. He skips over the snooty blond guy entirely. Based on the hallway argument and Sam's hero worship, I deduce this must be Victor. I file away the obvious snub from his own teammate.

I point down the hall. "Sam is waiting for you in room 414. He's excited. A few ground rules before we go in. Sam is hooked up to several machines. Keep your hands off his IV lines. If an alarm beeps, stay calm. The nurses monitor everything from the front desk. And please, try to keep the energy positive."

I shoot another pointed look at Victor. He ignores me, his jaw set tight.

Finn motions down the hall with a tilt of his head. "Lead the way."

I turn and walk down the corridor. I hear their sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor behind me. They follow me into the pediatric ward. The contrast feels comical. The walls feature bright yellow suns and cartoon animals. These guys look like they belong in an underground fight club.

We reach room 414. I push the solid wooden door open and step inside.

I gesture to the bed. "Sam, look who finally showed up."

Sam gasps. His eyes go wide. He drops his hockey puck onto the blankets.

Malcolm and Lawrence walk in first. They soften their postures, dipping their shoulders to look less intimidating. Finn follows close behind them.

Finn walks right up to the side of the bed. "Hey there, Sam. I heard you were a pretty big fan."