Melting the Ice (A Play-by-Play Novel)

Trevor thought about it a minute. “Let me see what I can do about that.”


“Thank you. I know you’re big in the sports world, and I don’t know if there really is anything you can do for her, but gosh, I’d sure appreciate anything. Anything at all.”

An idea formed in his head. He had the pull. He could get this done. And he’d do anything for Ginger, and to honor Bill’s memory. Haven needed help, and he sure as hell was in a position to help her.

Hours later, as he sat on the plane on his way back to St. Louis, Trevor had the plan formulated. The media were constantly hounding him for an exposé on his life and career. After all, there weren’t many athletes who played multiple sports. At least not many who played them well. He’d been closed off to the idea of it for a lot of reasons.

He leaned back in his seat and smiled.

Now, it was Haven’s turn to shine. And he was just the person to make it happen.

? ? ?

HAVEN TRIED TO MUSTER UP ENOUGH SALIVA TO SWALLOW as she pressed the button to return the phone call she’d missed from her boss.

She knew what was on the other end of that phone call.

Her ass was going to be fired, less than six weeks after she’d gotten the job of a lifetime.

It would have been better if she could have resigned. It would have looked better on her resumé, but then again, what did she care? Her career in journalism was over anyway, right?

Never quit. Whatever you do, Haven, never give up on anything until you’re sure you’ve given it everything you have.

Her father’s words rang in her ears, guilt squeezing her stomach until nausea caused her fingers to pause on the call button of her phone.

It was too late to beg to keep her job. She’d already passed up multiple travel assignments, content to do the local ones, then sit in her apartment in New York, dwelling on how much she missed home, her mom.

Her dad.

This wasn’t the right career for her. She’d made a mistake accepting this job. She wasn’t cut out for the rigors of sports news—the travel, the insane schedule, the arrogant athletes.

What was she thinking? Her father hadn’t even been gone a year yet.

She couldn’t do it.

Be brave, Haven. You can do anything, be anything you want to be. Just be happy.

Tears pricked her eyes and she swiped them away as she replayed every conversation they’d had those last few weeks over and over in her head.

Be happy.

She didn’t know how to be happy without hearing her father’s laugh, seeing his smiling face, being able to pick up the phone and talk to him every day.

Who was she going to go to when she needed advice?

She loved her mother, and in the ways of relationships and men and things like that, she had always gone to her mom.

But her dad—he’d been her buddy. She’d learned about sports from her father, had sat next to him and watched football, baseball, hockey, and every other sport imaginable. He’d taught her balls and strikes in baseball and the difference between a post pattern and a shovel pass in football. They’d driven up to St. Louis together and taken in hockey games, and she’d never been more thrilled than to see the players blasting that puck across the ice.

She’d learned to love sports because of her dad.

She’d gone after this job because of him.

And now she was going to be fired because after his death she hadn’t had the energy to do this job she’d wanted for years. For that, she had only herself to blame.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said, then pushed the call button on her phone.

“Haven. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

She cringed as the loud and very no-nonsense voice of her boss, Chandler Adams, came on the line.

“Hi, Chandler. Sorry. I got tied up.”

“Well, untie yourself. I have a job for you.”

“A . . . job?” He wasn’t firing her?

“Yeah. You know Trevor Shay, right?”

“Trevor . . . yes, I know him.”

“Great. We’re going to do his bio. A whole feature on the life of Trevor Shay. Personal and professional. We’ve been after him for years to do this, and he’s finally agreed. And he’s asked for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. Says you two go way back, to college.”

“Uh . . . yes. I knew him in college.”

“Then it’s a damn good thing we hired you, Haven. Pack a bag. You’ll meet him at his place in St. Louis to get everything set up. Narrative and background first, then we’ll get camera work involved later.”

Was she in some alternate universe? She hadn’t been fired. In fact, she’d just been assigned a profile of one of the biggest stars in the sports world right now.

“Okay. Sure. Thanks, Chandler.”

“No problem. I’ll email you the specs on what we’re looking for from you on this, Haven. This assignment’s going to take awhile, so clear your calendar.”

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