Page 31 of The Do-Over Girl

NASH

The ice feels good, better than ever. Not sure if it’s the rink, the Zamboni, or the fact that I’ve missed skating too fucking much. I glance at the clock sheltered behind a cage high on the cement block wall of the practice rink.

“Shit.” It’s ten minutes to five. I blow the whistle. “Time to quit, guys.” Usually, I’d stay late with at least Dylan and a couple of the guys, then shower and get back to the inn by six-thirty or seven.

Mrs. Pike has been keeping my dinner warm for me in the kitchen. Sometimes, she’s there to keep me company. But tonight, I have that meeting with the board of trustees for an update on progress towards our goal.

And I’m already fucking late. Not that I have much to add besides my progress with the team—but that’s my main contribution, and we’re fucking killing it.

Archie never made it to practice so he could prepare for the meeting. He and Kali will have the numbers the board is looking for.

Following the guys off the ice, I realize I will have to shower with them. Usually, I shower after they’re all gone.

Fuck. I know it’s a break from the usual coach-player protocol, but it’s not worse than going to the meeting sweating like a pig, so I push into the locker room behind Dylan.

“I have a meeting. Give me some space.” I head straight for the shower, and no one says a word or comes near me. After the shortest shower I’ve ever taken, too quick for the water to get past lukewarm, I wrap my towel around me, grab my hockey bag, and head for the door.

“See you tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep.”

I get the usual rumble of agreement in response, and I get out of there, heading for my office to dress.

* * *

When I arriveat the board meeting in Nikki’s office, my hair is still wet, and I’m wearing jeans with my white button-down shirt and tie, but I get a welcome like I’ve just come in from the front line instead of a hockey practice.

A large, fleshy man in his fifties stands and reaches out a hand to shake mine. I’ve met him before, briefly. He’s the chairman of the trustees, and he gives me a sincere grin.

“Congratulations on the team’s win and the excellent job you did refurbishing the arena. I’m disappointed, as all the trustees are, that you changed the name without consulting us, but I understand.” He hides his disappointment well. In fact, he looks thrilled.

I nod and take the empty seat at the end of the table. It happens to be across from Kali. Note to self: get here early so I can sit next to her and enjoy the one thing about these meetings that’s truly enjoyable—her presence.

The chairman bangs his gavel and calls the meeting to order.

“I like to start at the top.” He turns to Nikki. “What’s the bottom line? How much money do we currently have for the APA fund, including pledges?”

We all turn to Nikki, and I see her face pale. Fuck. Kali squeezes her arm, and I meet Kali’s gaze.

She’s a cool customer, and while Nikki is clearing her throat, she jumps in with the report. “After only three weeks, we hit the ground running, and we’re gaining momentum. So far, we’re at one-hundred-twenty thousand dollars.” She adds a smile for good measure.

Old fleshy face isn’t impressed. His eyebrows draw together.

“If you add in the money I’ve donated, the total is well over a million,” I point out.

The chair turns to me, his eyes squinting so they almost get lost in the folds of his skin. He nods and then he addresses Nikki. “How do you plan to raise the other four million?”

Nikki launches into her plan, turning on a projector. With Kali’s help, they put on a slide show that includes everything from alumni outreach to bake sales, to a PR campaign, including social media, to finally, the big event—the benefit hockey game featuring retired NHL players, followed by a gala at the Andrews Point Arts Museum and Gallery in a converted mansion overlooking the harbor.

When the slideshow presentation is over, I stand and clap. Archie joins me.

“Well done, ladies,” Archie says, giving them all the credit, though I know he’s helped with projections and spreadsheets. Two of the five trustees clap with us.

The chair turns to me. “Who do we have for the game?”

“I’ll be playing.” Unplanned, but this was as good a time as any to let the cat out of the bag. “That’s all I know.”

Kali’s mouth opens in shock, and her eyes ask me a million questions, Are you crazy? being chief among them. I grin at her, and she snaps into action.

“We have invitations out to several players, mostly guys who played for the Boston Brawlers and the Portsmouth Whalers.”