Run to You Read Online Free Page B

find a guy, but she was a tad overprotective too.
    Brandon climbed on the exercise bike and got to work.
    He always did this, cycling for a half hour or so after a game. The trainer said it was to get the lactic acid out of his system. He didn’t care what it was, but he knew the other guys did it, and it was part of being a hockey player. And all the guys had to work that much harder, after losing to Milwaukee, one of the two expansion teams.
    “Yeah, Sparky. Get going. Get those legs working.” Zach took the bike next to his buddy.
    Brandon closed his eyes. “Lousy game. I don’t want to know my stats.”
    “Olympic hangover,” said Zach. “Me, too. If Boston wins, they tie us for first.”
    The teammates kept cycling, not saying a word. Brandon tried to concentrate on his game, his exercise plan. Tomorrow there was another workout, before flying down south for a road trip. Florida in March didn’t sound too bad. Chicago weather was weird in March. Sunny and springlike one day, a snowstorm the next.
    He tried to think about anything but seeing Terri in the big bed, with that Swedish forward.
    Brandon made up his mind never to trust another woman. And it was too bad. Some of those girls he met at autograph signing, at team events, or out on the town looked nice.
    So did that girl from the hospital, Greta. Greta…what? He didn’t get her last name. But she was tall and pretty and not overdone. She didn’t wear too much makeup, like a lot of the dollies he met, or some of the Ice Bandits wives. Dale Wallace’s wife had been a model, and she still wore so much makeup, Brandon thought her face would crack.
    Greta, with her blonde hair and bright green eyes, and how she looked directly in his face when she talked to him. She worked in the jewelry store where he went looking for his ring. He remembered where the store was, and the name, South Side Precious Metals, so if he wanted, he could go back in and ask…
    No. No way. Concentrate on your game, Brandon, he told himself. Hockey is good to you. You make a good buck, fans cheer for you, and you play in the National Hockey League. The NHL. They signed you to a good contract, and they gave you every opportunity to make it big. And here you are, on an Ice Bandits team fighting for the Stanley Cup.
    Be good to the game, Brandon, not to some babe who could do you wrong.
    Mr. Blakely didn’t call too many staff meetings, so Greta knew something was up when he asked everyone to gather early, half an hour before South Side Precious Metals opened for business.
    He played with his fingers, and rustled a pile of papers. His face looked drawn, as if he had been up most of the night worrying.
    “This is not good news,” he began. “Regardless of the price of gold, we are not doing that well. Money is tight.”
    Greta prayed, please don’t lay off anyone. Especially her. She needed her job.
    “No raises this year. No bonuses. And I’m sorry to say this, but if business doesn’t pick up pretty soon, we may have to close operations entirely.”
    Close down the entire business? Greta didn’t think she heard right.
    “Mr. Blakely, we had lines to the door all day Friday. We saw how many people? And I’m behind on my projects.”
    “Greta, I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. The accounting department finished the books for last year. Numbers don’t lie, and we just don’t have the numbers. Things are tough all over. Look at all the vacant shops in this mall alone.”
    This news was as welcome as a yeast infection.
    “Okay, that’s it. Back to work.” Mr. Blakely looked down at the floor, then slowly walked back to his office, a small cubbyhole in the back.
    No one said a word. They were all thinking about what Mr. Blakely told them.
    Greta made up her mind to concentrate on her work, her current projects. She would learn new styles and new ways of doing things to make herself indispensable. Isn’t that what they said to do, in those job hunting books? She would