Page 10 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

“Hey, I’m already feeling it. This receptionist at the Vice office wanted my autograph—for her mom.”

He nodded. “Hockey’s over, and it’s time for you to settle down. Old mammals on the prowl are not a pretty sight.”

“Married people are like zombies. They want everyone to join their tribe.”

“Any zombie eating your brains would starve,” Jes replied. But it was such a lame slam that I wondered if he really was feeling old.

“Don’t worry, you’re still in great shape. You could pass for thirty-nine easily.”

“Fuck you,” Jes said. I laughed in reply. But I wasn’t like I looked twenty anymore either. Then he switched topics. “So, how’s work?”

“Eh. It’s gone from sucky to suckiest.” I’d been complaining to Jes about how useless I felt at work.

“I told you—you can’t expect to do things right away. What kind of idiots would put a hockey player with no management experience in charge of anything?”

“I know hockey,” I groused. “But I’ve been sent down. I’m working with the Vancouver Vice now.”

“The AHL team? That’s a gong show. What are you doing for them?”

“I’m implanted, or whatever the word is. I’m supposed to be helping, but I’m actually there to convince them to sell the team to the Millionaires.”

“Ohhhh. Like a spy. Do you like it?”

“I don’t know yet. I start on Monday. Hey, do you know anything about the Richardson family? That’s who I have to convince to sell.” Jes worked in commercial real estate now, so he knew a lot about business in Vancouver. Talking to him would save me having to do research.

“Well, the local nickname for their forest products company was Rich-White-Men. You know, because people called it Rich-Witty, and it was run by old Vancouver money. The Richardson family sold the forest products company about five or six years ago—to a Norwegian firm. I think they netted about four billion, in cash and stock.”

I whistled. “Holy shit. That’s some major bucks. So, why bother investing in an AHL team? They could have bought an NHL team with that dough.”

“Well, the Millionaires weren’t for sale, were they? A lot of these guys do it for exposure or something. They can be successful as hell in their business lives, but nobody’s ever heard of them. But buy a sports franchise, and then every Joe at Tim Horton’s knows who you are.”

“I don’t think that was the reason. Vince and Thomas were actually running the team themselves.”

Jes shrugged. “A hobby. Is it going to be tough to convince them to sell?”

“I think that Vince’s son Gregory could be convinced. But the daughter Amanda is pretty uptight. She’s one of those hard-ass businesswomen. You know the type.”

“In other words, she’s smarter than you. Good luck.”

I blew out a breath. She was smart, but it was more that I couldn’t get a handle on her. Usually women reacted to me in predictable ways. “She’s still a woman.”

“Chris, you’re a very personable guy. But you need to learn more ways to deal with women other than coming on to them.”

“That’s not true. Everyone enjoys a little attention.” Anyone—married or single, young or old, male or female—liked to feel attractive and desired. That was human nature.

He shook his head. “Maybe it works for you. But I’m warning you not to sleep with her. You don’t want to get a woman that rich angry at you.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. That’s not happening.” Like Alexander’s phobia about his parents, I didn’t want to connect sex with Amanda in any way, shape, or form.

“Good.” He nodded. “Oh, I’m supposed to ask if you want to come over for dinner after biking.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a date tonight with this chick I met at the gym.” Besides, lately Dori always had some friend she wanted me to meet. I hated fix-ups.

“How old is she?”

“I don’t know. Twenties.”

“Early or late?”

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