The Pucking Wrong Man: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 4)
Chapter 32

I listened to the recording I’d taken on Anastasia’s phone.

And then I listened to it again.

Dallon Holmes was an asshole of the highest order, and as soon as I’d heard how he was speaking to her, he was done.

Anastasia was never in a good mood when she came home from practice, and she never wanted to talk about it.

Now, I understood why.

I’d listened as he’d gone back and forth between verbally berating her and coming on to her.

Absolutely unacceptable.

I’d promised Anastasia that I would take care of her problems, and this fucker was now firmly on that list.

But I needed to handle it delicately. I was not going to ruin the opportunity she’d been working so hard for.

I pulled out my phone to consult…the brain trust.

Me: So, Lancaster…

He responded back immediately, like he always did. I was a little worried that he had sex holding his phone in one hand. I kind of wanted Anastasia to ask Blake.

Ari: Go on…

Ari: Are you texting about my report?

I snorted at the phone.

Walker: What report?

Ari: Oh, look who’s decided to join the conversation. The offender himself.

Me: This has nothing to do with what I was texting about.

Ari: Quiet, Hero. This is important.

Logan: What did Disney do?

Ari: Do you mean what did Señor Buttkiss do?

Walker: …

Walker: What?

Ari: Who did you congratulate tonight when we won, Disney?

Me: This feels like a trap.

Walker: It really does.

Ari: See, right there! Butt-kisser.

Linc: Alright, let’s get the drama queen’s rant over with. Lancaster, I’m pretty sure he gave me a high-five after the game.

Me: I was not watching Walker, because I had better things to do. So I will defer to Lincoln.

Ari: Children. I SCORED A FUCKING GOAL TONIGHT.

Walker: Good boy?

Ari: Sorry, Disney, that’s your kink, not mine.

Logan: Can I point out that Lincoln scored two…

Ari: Can I point out that you didn’t score one?

Ari Lancaster removed Logan York from the chat.

I could literally picture the steam coming out of Ari’s ears right then.

Wish I had a picture. Maybe I could get one.

Me: Could you, by chance, have Blake take a picture of you right now?

Ari: First, Hero, you’re so far out of the circle of trust right now, I can’t even see you. Also, my wife’s name is never allowed to come out of your mouth or your keyboard. I’m pretty sure we’ve gone over this. Second, Disney, Lincoln always scores. I scored a goal and defended your ass all fucking night. I got dick punched by Donovan at some point. You know what that would have done to Blake if there was permanent injury to her favorite part of my body.

Linc: Technically, Camden is beating you this year in goals scored.

Ari: Technically, you’ve been officially replaced as my best friend by Geraldine, but we aren’t talking about that.

Linc: …

Walker: Ari Lancaster, you are a god among hockey players. All hail you.

Ari: Thank you. That was the proper response to my magnificent performance tonight.

Linc: I think he was being sarcastic.

Me: Only because I need Ari to help me, I’m going to say Disney meant that text from the bottom of his heart.

Ari: Your offering is accepted.

Ari: Hero, if this one involves dogs, I’m out.

Walker: What about cats?

Me: Can we focus, please?

Me: I need a replacement dancer person…who is not an asshole. Oh, and he has to be one of the best and able to dance with Anastasia’s Company for her Showcase.

Whoops. I’d missed the most important requirement for this unicorn of a dancer.

Me: Just a small thing really, but he also has to be gay.

Linc: …

Ari: Anything else? And just in case you can’t sense the sarcasm in my text, because sometimes that’s hard for you in person—I was being sarcastic.

Me: Can you help me?

Linc: Why do you need this?

Me: Anastasia has a problem. The principal she’s dancing with…is an asshole.

Linc: Should we just kill him instead?

I blinked at the phone. I was pretty sure that he was joking.

Walker: I don’t know that I got the sarcasm on that one.

Ari: Yeah, me neither.

Ari: But also, Hero, you do realize that I said I took ballet in college, right?

My shoulders dropped. I mean it had been a long shot.

Ari: Just kidding. I have the perfect guy. I’ll send you his contact info. Just tell him you’re friends with me. He owes me.

Ari: And now you will too. Even more than after the toe incident.

I did a fist pump. But of course, Lancaster couldn’t stop there.

Ari: But, just so we’re clear, we’re just friends. Not circle of trust members and not besties. Only Geraldine…and Monroe hold that honor.

I smirked.

Me: Noted.

My phone rang. It was Lincoln. “Hello?”

“I’ve got a guy…” he said immediately.

Why did that not surprise me? He seemed to have a guy for everything actually, kind of unusual for a high-profile hockey player…

“Does your fire guy also specialize in ballet?” I asked, only half joking.

Not that I hadn’t used the fire guy. He’d actually taken care of the strip club last Friday, just in case Anastasia got any more wild ideas. I’d made sure to turn off the news the other night when they’d started talking about the random fire that had burned down the whole place.

“No, but he can arrange for a tire iron to hit Mr. Asshole’s leg while he walks to his car,” Lincoln said casually, like we were talking about the weather, or the game tonight…instead of maiming someone.

That seemed…extreme. But he’d also called my sweet baby girl a fucking train wreck. It didn’t take an expert to know that Anastasia was ten times the dancer that he was. He then had touched her enough she had to say, “please don’t touch me there” a few minutes later…

I’d been listening in on her practices now that she had started bringing her phone everywhere after the Michael incident.

Which reminded me…I still needed to deal with him. One of Walker and Olivia’s bodyguards had a friend—female of course—who I’d hired to stand guard outside the Company when I had hockey obligations. She’d reported that Michael had still been lurking outside the studio almost every day, leaving right before Anastasia came out of class.

The Dallon situation needed to be handled so I could move on to solving that.

“Actually…that sounds good. I’ll take it,” I said a moment later.

“Cool,” Lincoln responded, and he hung up without another word.

I stared at the phone for a second. I think I just hired a guy to bust out someone’s knees. Had that really happened?

My phone buzzed with a text from Ari. He’d sent me contact information for a dancer named Rudolf Fedorov. Typing in the guy’s name on Google, I became more and more impressed as I went through his resume. He was one of the top principal dancers in the country, and his contract allowed him to perform with various companies over the years.

He also was married to a man named Ted.

I was wondering if Ari was just fucking with me at this point. Rudolf fit my exact specifications.

I still dialed the number that Ari had sent, and thank fuck, Lancaster had come through. Twenty minutes later, Anastasia had a new partner for the Showcase, assuming Dallon’s leg met its planned end.

Whatever Rudolf owed Ari…it must’ve been a lot.