Page 27 of The Pucking Arrangement

Beside me, Dmitri stiffens. “Melissa.” His voice drops ten degrees.

“We missed you at the parents’ meeting,” she purrs, sliding a perfectly manicured hand onto his arm like she’s claiming territory. My stomach flips—sharp, unexpected, and entirely unwelcome.“The fundraising committee desperately needs a strongmaleperspective.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Dmitri looks like he’d rather take a puck to the face than sit through a PTA meeting.

“Been busy. Playoffs.” He shifts his weight, stepping out of her reach like her touch might be radioactive.

Melissa doesn’t miss a beat. Her laser-sharp focus swings to me, her blue eyes scanning like a security system assessing a breach.

Who is she? Why is she here? Does she matter?

“And who’s this?”

“Ris’s temporary sitter,” Dmitri says, flat and dismissive.

Ouch.

Technically, he’s not wrong, but wow, way to make a girl feel like an afterthought.

Melissa’s smile sharpens. “How...sweet.”

She recalibrates, shifting back to him like I no longer exist. “You know, my son Jake adores hockey. He loves the Sunday coaching session with you.”

Wait. Dmitri coaches kids’ hockey? Why does that make my stomach flutter?

“Da. He plays well. I will be there this Sunday. Team leaves Tuesday for away games.”

“Perfect!” She leans in slightly, voice dripping sugar. “Maybe afterward, we could discuss a playdate? Kaycee and Jake won’t stop talking about how much fun they had with Ris on Fire Island last summer. They’d love to have her over.”

“Ris has a full schedule.” Dmitri’s voice could cut through steel. Cold, clipped, final.

Melissa barely flinches. She just tilts her head, her practiced smile never wavering.

And before I can stop myself, the words are tumbling out.

“You know, I’m helping coordinate Ris’s schedule while her regular nanny’s away. Maybe we could find a time that works for everyone?”

Dmitri’s head snaps toward me so fast I brace for whiplash. His eyes pin me in place, his mouth pressed in a firm line.

But I continue.

“It might be nice for Ris to hang out with friends,” I add lightly, keeping my voice even.

His jaw works, tension rippling through him like he’s debating a battle strategy. Finally, through gritted teeth, “We could...discuss options.”

Melissa beams, victorious. “Wonderful! Here, let me get your number?—”

“Give to Erin.” Dmitri cuts in smoothly, his voice firm and detached. “She handles the arrangements.”

Handles the arrangements? Like I’m his personal assistant instead of just the nanny?

Melissa doesn’t seem to mind. She taps her number into my phone with the practiced efficiency of a woman who always gets what she wants. But as she hands it back, I catch Dmitri watching me.

And for a split second—just a flicker—his expression slips.

Is it surprise? Annoyance? Something that almost looks like approval?

Then, “Come.” His tone is gruff as he gestures toward the boards, already shifting his attention back to the ice. “Let’s watch Ris’s class.”

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