Since he lives in Los Angeles, no one expected Dominik to spend much time with our team. He owns a professional basketball team there that’s always done very well. It’s probably his most lucrative venture. But he’s proved us wrong over and over again this season, popping into several home and away games to cheer us on, and even showing up at non-game events. He crashed the rookie party this year, which, to my knowledge, has never been done by any team owner ever. And when he came to Nora’s ranch to volunteer, he made it clear he’s more than just the man who owns us.
Dominik walks straight to the podium, making it obvious he’s the one who called this meeting. His voice is booming enough that he doesn’t need the microphone attached there.
“I appreciate you all coming in on such short notice,” he says as he addresses the crowd of players. “I was actually headed to New York, but I decided to make a stop here first, so truly… thank you for your indulgence of me.”
Of course he did. He has all kinds of private planes at his disposal. He even lent one to Bishop so he could chase Brooke across the country once.
Leaning a forearm on the podium, he flashes us a grin. “You may have noticed already, but I’m a bit different than the other team owners. A bit nosier, so to speak.”
There’s a smattering of laughter across the room, but I notice that Dax’s jaw locks. Dominik has definitely been nosy where Dax’s sister, Willow, is concerned.
The grin falls away as Dominik’s eyes turn sober. “I’m never going to be the type of owner who just sits back and counts the money you make me. I want you all to succeed. To do that, you have to be happy, well-adjusted, and fulfilled. For those reasons, I sometimes nose around in your business to make sure I can help that happen. I hope you’re used to that by now.”
There’s more laughter, and Erik has a genuinely fond expression on his face right now, as does Bishop. Dominik had once helped Blue with legal troubles over her parents’ estate.
“I’m not going to sit up here and give you a motivational speech about how we can win the Cup this year. I don’t need to reiterate how well we’re doing or that we’ve created history by having the best record of any expansion team entering the league.”
“Fucking right on,” someone calls from the back. There are a few hoots and a lot more laughter.
Dominik joins in. When things settle, he continues. “The hockey news is focused on the Cold Fury right now. Sure, people are interested in us, but they’re more interested in seeing the Cold Fury win three championships in a row.”
Now there’s only silence.
“I say fuck that,” Dominik growls, banging his fist on the podium and straightening his body. “I’m here to tell you… they can’t do it. Because we are the fucking Arizona Vengeance, and we’re directly in their way. They’ll never make it through us. Can’t go around us. The only thing they can hope to do is get trampled by us. That’s all any team can hope for, and well… I just wanted to stop by and tell you with the playoffs starting next week, I can’t wait to see you start your path to victory.”
There’s a thunderous boom of applause as we rise for a standing ovation. He said he wasn’t trying to motivate us, but fuck if he didn’t do just that. We clap, stomp, and holler.
Dominik holds one hand up, an acknowledgment he appreciates our response. With one last smile, he pivots on his heel before marching out of the room.
Christ, that guy has class.
Coach Perron moves to the podium. He knows he can’t compete, so he merely spends a few moments reminding us of the practice schedule for the next week.
When he’s done, we all start to file out. Dominik’s name is on everyone’s lips.
At the end of the row, Aaron and I meet up with Dax and Bishop.
“You guys want to go hang?” Dax asks as we follow him down the aisle toward the door.
“I’m in,” Bishop says.
“Me too,” Aaron adds.
“I’m out,” I tell the group. “Got plans with Nora.”
No one gives me shit about it, but I don’t miss the smiles on their faces.
At the door, we wait for the logjam of guys to shuffle through. Just as Dax is exiting ahead of me, I spot Dominik.
His eyes lock on Dax, who I can hear audibly groan at the attention. Dominik makes absolutely no bones about his interest in Dax’s sister. “Is Willow going to be coming to any of the playoff games?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Dax mutters.
“I would, but she’s still not answering my texts or calls,” Dominik says with a laugh, not sounding put out in the slightest. If anything, I think he’s enjoying her lack of interest in him.