Chapter Fifty-Nine

Danica

Start of the Third Period

I laugh, cheering along with the crowd as the players hit the ice once more. I was self-conscious with all the eyes on me at the beginning of the match. Wearing Theo’s name boldly across my back, along with his antics at the start of the game, made it clear to anyone with eyes that we were a thing. Okay, then. I guess we’re doing this. It took a while for me to settle back into the swing of things, to get lost in the heat of the plays; but on a deep-seeded level, hockey games were second-nature to me. And it didn’t matter that it had been years since I was a regular attendee; old habits die hard, and cheering on Theo was embedded in my DNA.

The match was a brutal one. Seattle and Calgary were long-time rivals, and the Cougars were known for playing dirty. Players were being checked into the boards, given penalties for high-sticking, I even watched on in frustration as one of their starters deliberately maneuvered his stick to trip one of our players. The crowd was on a rampage of their own, cursing out each other’s teams and jeering as players were sent to the sin bin one after another. There were even a few fans that got expelled from the game for starting a fight while waiting in line for concessions. This game was probably one of the craziest I had ever been to.

Theo was on fire though. Backing up his team whenever gloves were thrown down, or positioning himself to act as a barrier between his forward and the opposition. It was hard not to become enthralled in the match. I had forgotten just how incredible he was, how much fun it could be to watch him play. And I would never be one to take credit for his own diligence, but it seemed he was putting in extra effort tonight in an attempt to win for me, just like he promised.

My eyes are glued to the ice, watching the quick movements of the players as they speed across the rink, as I reach over to grab a handful of popcorn out of the bucket that Tony purchased for us during the last period break.

“Excuse me, miss?” I freeze, mouth half-full of popcorn that I had just fisted in my face and turn my head to see a security guard standing just past Tony, at the end of the aisle.

Hastily, I swallow, before offering a plaintive smile. “Hello.”

“I’m going to need you to come with me.” The guard tilts his head towards the steps, reaching out with his hand to gesture that I should follow him.

Tony frowns, as I look between him and the guard, confused.

“I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

The security guard just smiles, his eyes warm and inviting.

“No, ma’am. Not at all. Your presence has been requested in the owner’s box.”

Well, now I really am confused. I turn my head to look back at the rink, and watch Theo as he whizzes past with several teammates, passing the puck between them towards the goal.

I shake my head, smiling in bewilderment. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. The owner’s box? As in, the owner of the Seattle Sabretooths?” I really am confused. I don’t know the owner, and Theo never mentioned anything to me about this.

“Ah, yes well. They said it may cause some confusion, but they noticed the attention that Mr. Giovanni was giving you at the start of the game and you caught their eye. They asked me to inform you that they are huge fans of yours, as an Olympic Gold Medalist and would love the opportunity to meet you in person if you are willing. They said it is an honor to have such a celebrity attending one of their sporting events tonight.”

Oh. Huh. It’s weird that they would have noticed me from all the way down here, even with the attention I was gaining from the fans seated around me. At the security guard’s words, Tony leans over to whisper in my ear. “I think you may have ended up on the jumbotron a few times. You have been so focused on the game that you didn’t notice, but it makes sense that they would feature a celebrity in attendance at the game.”

Ah. Well, I guess that makes sense. I turn to look back at the ice, hoping to gain Theo’s attention, but he is clear across the other side of the rink with his back towards me. I shift, facing the security guard. “Would it be alright if I brought my friend with me? I don’t feel comfortable going by myself in new places.” With that, I try to charm him with my brightest smile.

He just smiles amicably in return. “I’m sure the owners would have no problem. Please, if you don’t mind following me?” And with that, he guides us out of our seats, and we follow along up the stairs, and clear to a different part of the arena where private boxes are located for VIPs in attendance.

Opening the door with the scan of his badge, I walk inside at his motion to enter, glancing hesitantly around me. Tony, noticing my discomfort, takes my arm and threads it through his own in a show of support. For all the events where I have had to make public appearances, and meet new people, it has always been anxiety-inducing for me. But still, this is the owner of the Seattle Sabretooths and their party. Literally the people that Theo works for, albeit, indirectly, and I would like to make a good impression. Pasting a smile on my face, Tony squeezes my arm gently closer to his side in reassurance as we walk forward, and the door is closed behind us, the security guard waiting outside rather than following us along into the room.

The box is crowded, men and women in various levels of business attire milling about as they snack on hors d'oeuvres and cocktails that are clearly beyond what is offered to the public for general admission. Most of the people are talking in small groups amongst themselves, with only a few seated and actually paying any attention to the game. The view from up here is nice, I guess. It offers a good perspective of the entire rink, which would certainly make for easier viewing of the fast-paced sport as players move around the ice. But it is colder up here, and I don’t mean in the literal sense. There is a general lack of excitement, the animated electric vibe from the crowded arena is lost with a distinct level of detachment, if the bored expressions on the wealthy patrons is any indication.

“Ms. Ellis! What an absolute honor it is to have you here! Millie, Alexander, please, I simply must introduce you!” I freeze in horror, terror that I haven’t felt in years filling my every pore at a voice coming from behind me.

Tony, noticing how I stiffen, glances down on me in concern. “You okay?” He whispers out the side of his mouth as we slowly turn to face what has to be a waking nightmare. There is simply no other explanation for it.

Standing before me, crisp black suit, and blue and silver tie to match the team colors, is Mr. Bradley Oakley Sr., and his wife, arms linked together in a similar fashion to how I am now connected with Tony. I feel the color drain from my face, smile frozen in place, as two new people, whom I’m assuming are Millie and Alexander, walk up to join our little group.

“Darling! Look at you! Aren’t you so. . .” Mrs. Oakley gives me an appraising once-over, eyes causally cruel in their assessment. . . “cute, in your little sports top.”

Raising a glass of amber liquid to his mouth, Mr. Oakley takes a sip before responding in a bored tone, “It’s called a jersey, dear.”

Her laughter is tinkling, and it grates under my skin. “Of course! Silly me! Well, you look just adorable in your little jersey. Though I must say, it does appear to be a bit. . . large on you.” She leans closer, as if to confide a deep secret. “Now dear, if you need a good tailor, I can give you the name of my gal. She is simply the best in the city.” She smiles brightly at me, but her eyes are hard.

I swallow, forcing a polite smile, while Tony gives my arm a reassuring pat as he takes this all in, confused, I’m sure, about the weird dynamic that we just walked into.

“Thank you, Mrs. Oakley. That’s very kind of you to offer. This jersey belongs to one of the team players, Theo Giovanni. So unfortunately, I can’t have it tailored. It wouldn’t fit him for his future games.” My smile remains polite, but my words have a sharp edge to them. I’m not sure what is going on here, but I am not the same girl they pushed around all those years ago.

I turn my head to the newcomers and extend my free hand in a polite offer. “I’m Danica Ellis, and this is my friend, Tony. It’s nice to meet you.” Alexander and Millie introduce themselves to me, and I shift uncomfortably under Alexander’s leering gaze as he gives me a blatant once-over.

“Danica here, is a two-times Olympic Gold Medalist in gymnastics, and was previously engaged to our dear son, Bradley, before he tragically passed away.”

Millie gasps with exaggerated shock, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, my dear girl! I am so sorry for your loss. How tragic! I only had the pleasure of making his acquaintance a handful of times, but Bradley was certainly quite the charmer. I am so sorry, for all of you. His passing must have come as quite a shock.”

Tony’s eyebrows have shot up into his hairline, and he looks over from Mrs. Oakley, to Millie, then at me with concern written all over his features. Goodie. I take it he has heard a little about Bradley then. Or maybe he is just concerned that I am now standing in an Owner’s box at his cousin’s big hockey match while making polite conversation with some obviously wealthy individuals that I used to be connected to through an engagement .

My smile is tight, and I keep my words short as I respond. “Thank you for your condolences. It was a long time ago.”

“Yes, and it’s clear to see she has moved on with her life and is doing quite smashingly.” There is a harsh bite to Mrs. Oakley’s words, despite the smile that seems to be permanently etched on her features.

“Mrs. Oakley, Mr. Oakley, it was very nice to see you both after such a long time. I should probably get back to my seats to finish the game.”

“Nonsense! Stay!” Mr. Oakley speaks loudly, and it is clear to see that he has been drinking heavily, which is not at all like the man I once knew.

“Please dear, we are past that level of formality. Why, we are practically family. You were, after all, going to be my daughter. Please, call me Diane.” She steps forward, taking my hand and giving it a hard squeeze. “Come now, my sweet girl. Why don’t you come sit with me and us ladies can have a bit of catching up. Brad, dear?” She looks to her husband, and I get chills at his name, his features so like those of his cruel son that once shared his name.

“Why don’t you take her dear little friend, Johnny, here, and tell him all about your recent acquisition of the team?” She looks at me once more. “You see dear, we are celebrating. We acquired the team at the end of last season, but due to various legal matters it had to be kept under tight wraps until recently. How fortuitous that we should run into you here tonight, with all our colleagues in attendance to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

“Oh, um, that’s okay, I really should be going-” I gesture halfheartedly over my shoulder as she pulls me further into the room, glancing anxiously to the corner where Mr. Oakley has dragged Tony for a discussion of the acquisition of the hockey team.

“No! I simply won’t hear it! Sit down, Danica, dear!” With a surprising amount of force, Mrs. Oakley shoves me down into a chair, and the people who had been mingling nearby shoot us a glance before quickly moving further away.

“Now tell me, dear. How have you been? I have seen you in the papers, making headlines with your Olympic wins and your charitable work with that little gymnastics center that you opened. And clearly,” she gestures blandly at my attire, “you have found yourself a new man, though I’m sure he isn’t half as smart or handsome as my dear Bradley was.” She sniffs, indignant.

“Mrs.-” I pause as she glares at me, and quickly correct myself, “Diane. It’s kind of you to ask. I have been doing well, thank you.” She arches a brow at that, face skeptical.

“Have you though? Been doing well that is?”

I go cold at her words. She couldn’t know about the stalker situation, could she? It is weird enough that they were now apparently in Seattle after being based out of the east coast. There’s no way they could know about this. I haven’t heard from them in over seven years. Not since Bradley was killed and Mr. Oakley was under investigation for potential fraud and money laundering thanks to a well-placed tip by Finn.

“I don’t know what you mean?” My smile is tight, words arctic as I respond to her pointed question.

She reaches over, squeezing my hand in feigned concern. “Simply that, life must have been . . . well, a bit of a challenge for you? Hasn’t it? What with your father disappearing mysteriously and then your mother falling out of good graces in polite company. Your brother having to step down from his highly anticipated career in the sports industry to clean up your father’s mess? It must have just been so hard for someone like you.”

Wow. I slip my hand out of her grasp, resting them in my lap.

“I’m sorry? Someone like me?”

She shows her teeth, more threatening than polite in her mockery of a smile. “Well yes dear. You always were a bit. . . troubled. Had a hard time fitting in at school and within our social circles, though yours was always a bit. . . more relaxed than my own. Why, I remember all the times our poor Bradley would come home, full of worry for his darling girl. He tried so hard to help you feel more comfortable with his friends at school, to help mold you into a young woman who would be successful when held to the expectations that is standard among the Oakley brides. It’s a shame, a tragedy really, that he passed away unexpectedly. Though I suppose it really is for the best. Why, if he could see the kind of life you are living now, the. . . people. . . you are keeping company with. He would be so very disappointed.”

She sneers down at me, as she mentions my “people,” throwing a quick evil eye over at Tony before her face becomes the epitome of motherly concern once more. “You were always supposed to be my daughter, darling girl. I’m sorry that things didn’t work the way that they were meant to. But maybe it was for the best. If you are ever in need of a mother’s advice, though, please do reach out to me. Goodness knows, your own certainly can’t be helpful in that regard.” There is disdain written all over her features at the mention of my mother. And while I may not have much of a relationship with the woman any more, it is not Bradley’s mother’s job to criticize the woman that she was once best friends with .

My words are sharp as I bite them out, polite smile be damned. “Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” I hiss quietly, so that only she can hear. “You are just as much as a raging alcoholic bitch as my own mother, and no less the bored housewife. Don’t even pretend that you are better than her. For all her flaws, she at least didn’t raise an abusive rapist for a son.” I stand abruptly, not waiting for a reply. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve overstayed my welcome and really must be leaving.”

Not bothering to attempt polite curiosity or feigned disinterest, I stomp quickly over to Tony where he appears to be managing to keep a polite facade as he discusses sports with Bradley’s father. I grab his arm tightly, not caring about my lack of subtlety. “Mr. Oakley, it was. . . well. It was something, seeing you again. Glad to hear you figured out your finances after that whole fraud and money laundering debacle with the government.” My voice is too loud, it carries over to the groups mingling nearby and they shoot looks with various levels of concern and intrigue in our direction. “Now, if you don’t mind, we really must be getting back to our seats. Goodbye.”

Without a backward glance, I practically drag Tony out of the room, not bothering to respond to the surprised look the security guard shoot in our direction. If he didn’t know, then he didn’t know. And if he did. . . well then. . . fuck him.