Wolf with Benefits

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Vic stopped the Range Rover and turned off the engine. “Everyone ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” Toni said from the back. Ricky would say she looked “brave,” but she didn’t. She looked determined. He found that much scarier than brave because when the woman made up her mind . . .

“And remember the rules.” Vic looked directly at Ricky. “Keep your feet off the table.”

“Why do y’all keep telling me that?” he demanded.

“Because you’ll put your feet on the table,” Vic and Toni said together.

“Fine, but I don’t see what the big problem is. Bears and all their dang rules.”

They opened the doors and stepped out.

Toni cracked her neck and moved her shoulders. She looked like she was about to step into a boxing ring.

“Ready?” Ricky asked her.

She nodded. “Let’s go bag some bears.”

They headed down the hallway to that room where the bears had continued to stick Toni every time she’d come for a meeting. She let one of them lead her toward that room, Ricky and Vic right behind her, but she cast for a scent and when she locked on it, she immediately made a left and headed down another hallway.

“You! Dog! Where you go?” demanded the bear behind her.

Toni ignored him and kept moving until she reached a room where she heard male laughter and scented bear. Lots of bear.

Taking a breath, she pushed open the door and walked in. “Morning, gentlemen!” she said, smiling. “How is everyone doing today?”

The laughter and words died, but Toni ignored all that and moved toward the long table. She spotted an open seat and walked over to it like she knew it was just for her. She didn’t ask permission, she didn’t stop to look around. Instead she remembered what Ricky had said about always looking like you know where you’re going, even when you don’t. She sat down, placing her messenger bag on the floor beside the chair.

“Okay,” she said, making sure her grin was large and confident. “Let’s get started.”

The bears looked at each other and then one with horrible facial lacerations—she assumed he was Yuri Asanov since he was the only one in a wheelchair—nodded his head.

“Good,” Toni said, reaching into her messenger bag and beginning to dig out papers.

While she pulled folders out, she saw from the corner of her eye one of the bears pushing away from the table and standing.

Toni looked up and said, “Where are you going, Ivan Zubachev?”

Walking toward the door, Zubachev didn’t bother to look at her when he replied, “I have business that cannot wait.”

“Then we’ll just sit here and wait until you get back.”

The grizzly stopped. “What?”

“No deal gets made in this town without you, Ivan Zubachev. I’ll be wasting my time talking to all these handsome but relatively useless bears if you’re not here. So we’ll wait for you. All day if necessary. All century.”

He slowly faced her, but said nothing.

“Let’s be honest here, Ivan. This isn’t about what Bo did to your boy.” Toni looked over at the team’s coach and said, “By the way, the wheelchair’s a bit much.” And when Yuri Asanov’s cheeks grew slightly red, she knew she’d been right. “But I do apologize, Yuri Asanov, for what he did to your face.” Because that was bad.

She looked back at Zubachev. “This is about what Novikov did to you. And what he did to you, Ivan Zubachev, is turn down your job offer.”

Zubachev folded his massive arms over his enormous chest but still said nothing.

“What you failed to understand was that it was not personal. The bottom line is that playing with your team would not have been a challenge for him. A team filled with bears, Siberian tigers, and Novikov—will do nothing but win. He knows that. You know that. That’s why you wanted him. But Novikov needs a challenge. He needs to know that he can’t just waltz off with a trophy. He wants to earn that win. So let’s forget the past. Let’s forget about cages. Let’s forget the insults. And let’s talk about money. Because a game between our teams in a neutral, shifter-only location, will have money coming down on us like snow in Siberia.”

That made Zubachev smirk and, after a moment, he walked over to the chair he’d just left, pulled it out, and plopped down into it.

He briefly lifted his hands, then dropped them. “Let’s negotiate . . . little doggie.”

Toni grinned. “Yes. Let’s. You big, adorable bear, you.”

Twelve hours. Twelve hours to negotiate one goddamn hockey game. During that time, Ricky and Vic had stood behind or beside Toni—Vic sometimes briefly stepping out to answer phone calls—while Toni handled it all like a pro. She never looked tired, even though Ricky was sure that she was exhausted down to her toes. Nor did she snap when the bears made things difficult. And like most bears, these Russian bears certainly enjoyed making things difficult.

Like now, when the bears had agreed to almost all the terms except one. Although they wouldn’t insist on putting Novikov in a cage, they were insisting that the man was to be shackled before and after game time. Toni kept reminding them that the damage done to their coach had happened during a game, so what would be the point of chaining her player before and after? But the bears wouldn’t be moved on this point and Ricky was thinking Toni was about to give up and decide to head on home. Especially when her cell phone went off.

Toni glanced at the screen, while one of the bears muttered, “Rude,” as she did.

“Everything all right?” Ricky asked her.

“Just Cooper.” She sighed, glancing up at Ricky. “He’s wondering when I’m heading home.”

“I can’t believe Cooper Jean-Louis Parker is your brother,” Vic suddenly announced . . . rather loudly. So loudly that both Ricky and Toni looked at the man. He shrugged. “Just an observation.”

“Cooper Jean-Louis Parker?” Zubachev repeated, and all the bears’ eyes locked on Toni. Ricky stepped even closer and placed his hand on her shoulder. Standing there for the last twelve hours had allowed him to come up with all sorts of exit strategies should things turn nasty. “You know Cooper Jean-Louis Parker?”

“He’s her brother,” Vic said, moving closer to the table and Toni.

Zubachev snorted. “Lie. The freak cat lies.”

“I find that very hurtful, Ivan.”

“Shut up.” Zubachev glared across the table at Toni. “Prove he is your brother or I believe nothing.”

Toni shrugged and again looked at her phone. She began scanning a ton of pictures—how much memory does her camera have anyway?—but instead of choosing, Toni kept muttering things like, “Nah. Not that one, I look too fat. No. Coop has that ridiculous smile. No. If I show that one, Cherise will be mad.”

Fed up and exhausted himself, Ricky took the phone from her, flipped through a couple more pictures until he found one that showed brother and sister hugging each other and grinning into the camera. He sent the camera skidding across the table right at Zubachev.

The bear stared at the tiny screen, the other bears soon getting out of their chairs and surrounding him, all staring at the small phone in his giant hand.

After nearly a minute, they all looked up at Toni.

“You truly know him,” Zubachev said. “You know The Coop.”

“I better,” Toni muttered. “He used to throw his dirty diapers at me. I better not have gone through that for no reason.”

“The Coop,” another bear said, grinning. “The man.” Then Ricky watched twelve bears of varying sizes and colors pretend to play air-piano.

It was . . . weird. Yeah. That was the best word for it. Weird.

“You talked all sorts of crap about canines,” Toni reminded Zubachev, “but you love my brother?”

“He plays music like god,” Zubachev cheered. “Species does not matter when man play like that.”

“He’s still a canine.”

“He is The Coop,” Zubachev insisted, as if that explained everything. “You should be proud to be his sister!”

“I am!” Toni snapped back, her exhaustion finally catching up with her. She leaned back in her chair, huffing and puffing a bit, when Vic kneed the back of her seat. Glaring, Toni looked at the man. Vic raised his brows and motioned to Zubachev.

After a moment, Toni focused back on Zubachev. She studied him and, finally, said, “You know . . . He’s doing a tour in Russia in September. I’m sure I could get him to add this territory to his itinerary.”

Zubachev smirked. “What price?”

“His usual rate, because that’s the least he deserves. The concert would be open to all species and breeds and, of course, dinner with his host. But no chains for Novikov. Instead, we will rely on Novikov’s commitment to me not to harm anyone. This, of course, is only in effect if none of you”—and she looked hard at all the players at the table—“challenge him while off the ice. Commit to that, and my brother will happily do this favor for me.”

Zubachev tried for a casual shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll make sure he plays ‘Flight of the Bumblebee.’ ”

A few of the players gasped and then they were all whispering to Zubachev in Russian.

Ricky crouched down next to her. “ ‘Flight of the Bumblebee? ’ Heard that one was hard.”

“Yeah, it is. Written by a Russian composer.” She glanced at Ricky and said out of the corner of her mouth, “Coop mastered it when he was three.”

Ricky snorted just as Zubachev looked over at them.

“It is deal, little doggie.” The grizzly grinned. “You negotiate like Russian sow.”

“Awww,” Toni said, her returning smile warm. “Thank you! That is so sweet.”

Only to other shifters, maybe, but that worked for now.

“Now we toast!” Zubachev announced. “Aleksai! Get the vodka!”

Vic tapped Ricky’s shoulder and motioned him over to a corner with a tilt of his head. His gaze still on Toni while she winced and cringed her way through a shot of homemade Russian bear vodka, Ricky stepped next to Vic.

“What is it?”

“I’m coming back with you.”

“Why?”

“Orders from Dee-Ann. Plus she wants us to keep an even tighter watch on Antonella.”

“But she knows The Coop,” he said dryly.

Vic chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s the problem. She said we’ll find out everything when we get back. I’ve already notified the airline we’re coming. Okay?”

Ricky eyed the hybrid closely. “You sure you don’t know any more than that?”

“If I’d spoken to someone else, I might be lying. But you know Dee-Ann. Do you really think we had a long, meaningful conversation about issues?”

“Well, we all know what a chatty little love bug she is.”

Shaking his head, Vic walked away and Ricky faced Toni, who was currently being bear-hugged off her feet by Ivan Zubachev. She didn’t seem too happy about that, but for her job . . . she was putting up with it.

He let out a breath and forced a smile. The last thing he wanted to do was freak her out before they got her home. Not because she’d be worried about herself. She wouldn’t be. He knew that now. But if her family was in trouble . . . ? Well, to quote Ricky’s fellow New Yorkers, Oy.