Page 35 of Slap Shot
He spotted Heather in the upper section, laptop balanced on her knees. HR's edict meant she couldn't sit anywhere near the team bench, but he could see her splitting attention between the game and whatever security sweep she was running. The distance from last night still hung between them like a wall neither could acknowledge publicly.
The guilt sat heavier. When Heather had asked him directly about enemies from his past, he'd given her evasive non-answers instead of the truth. Now he was trapped by his own cowardice. How could he admit he'd lied by omission when she'd trusted him enough to ask? How could he explain that his former best friend was a sociopath he was ashamed to have ever called family?
"Chenny!" Kane called, passing him the puck. "Stop making googly eyes at the puck bunnies and play some hockey."
Oliver caught the pass and sent it back with more force than necessary, the aggressive play making Kane grin. His captain always appreciated intensity, even during charity games.
The real entertainment started when Liam took his turn in net, playing with theatrical flair that had the crowd in stitches.
"Come on, people," Liam called as the mascot from a local pizza chain lined up for a shot. "My grandmother moves faster than that, and she's been dead for five years."
The crowd laughed as the oversized pepperoni slice took his shot, a slow roller that Liam pretended to struggle with before finally smothering it with an overdramatic dive.
Things got interesting when Chilly the Penguin took the ice for a penalty shot. Oliver had watched Phoebe Tayler work the crowds as the team mascot for the past year, but her competitive streak always came out during these scrimmages.
"Alright, Castillo," came her muffled voice from inside the penguin costume. "Time to show these kids what real hockey looks like."
"Oh, this should be good," Liam replied, adjusting his mask. "What's a penguin know about hockey anyway? You can't even fly."
"Don't need to fly when I can skate circles around you." Phoebe shot back, making a little spin that had the kids cheering.
Oliver grinned as Phoebe wound up for the shot, deliberately telegraphing her intentions before firing the puck directly at Liam's glove. He made an exaggerated dive to his left, completely whiffing on the save as the puck slid slowly into the net.
The kids erupted in cheers while Liam lay on the ice in mock defeat. Chilly did a victory dance that involved considerable wing-flapping and what could only be described as penguin twerking.
"Lucky shot," Liam said, pulling himself upright.
"Luck?" Phoebe's voice carried clear indignation even through the costume. "That was pure skill, Castillo."
"Prove it," Liam challenged. "Best two out of three."
"You're on. But when I win, you owe me dinner."
"And if I win?"
"You won't."
As they set up for round two, Oliver glanced toward the upper section. Heather had gone completely still, her fingers frozen over her laptop keyboard. Even from the ice, he could see the rigid line of her shoulders.
Something was wrong.
The rest of the scrimmage dragged endlessly. Oliver went through the motions, high-fiving kids, posing for photos, signing autographs, but his mind was racing through possibilities. None of them were good.
In the locker room, he changed quickly while his teammates continued their post-game banter.
"Great show out there, Chenny," Kane said, toweling off his hair. "Though you seemed a little distracted."
"Long day," Oliver said, which was true enough. He grabbed his gear bag and headed for the door before anyone could ask follow-up questions.
He waited twenty minutes after most of the team had left before making his move. The building was mostly empty except for weekend staff and the cleaning crew. Oliver took the back stairwell with Charlie, avoiding the main corridors where someone might spot them.
He was almost to Heather's floor when he heard voices echoing from the main corridor. Through the stairwell door's small window, he could see Phoebe, still in the penguin costume but with the head tucked under her arm, talking with Travis Dane near the elevators.
Oliver pressed against the wall, Charlie automatically moving to heel position. If Jack's assistant caught him sneaking around the building after HR's explicit warnings, Heather would pay the price. She could lose her job.
"—told you, the equipment inventory can wait until Monday," Travis was saying.
"I know, but I'm stuck in this thing," Phoebe replied, tugging at the costume. "The zipper's completely jammed."
