Read Online Icebreaker by Deirdre Martin - Free Book Online Page B

watch the game. It would increase his confidence in her as his attorney. Oliver’s taunting words from a few weeks back echoed in her head— you care what he thinks —but Sinead dismissed them. Just because Oliver had bedded half the female population of Manhattan didn’t mean he was good at reading women.
    Sinead was so deep in her own head that she jolted in surprise when the Met Gar crowd started booing loudly, her brother included.
    “What just happened?”
    “Your client was just given a penalty. The ref says he elbowed a Toronto forward.”
    “Did he?”
    “No. From the replay the hit was with his shoulder. His elbow came up after to keep himself from smashing his face into the boards.”
    Sinead looked down at the ice. Michael Dante was arguing vehemently with one of the referees, who was shaking his head obstinately. Adam had skated to the penalty box.
    Sinead’s heart sank. This was exactly the sort of thing that wouldn’t help his case. It was safe to assume that most of the jurors would not be hockey fans, so they wouldn’t be as discerning as Quinn about whether penalties were justified. She needed to do more research, find out about clean hits, dirty hits, what was considered legal under the rules, and what wasn’t. She had foolishly thought this case was going to be straightforward. Now she realized it had the potential to be anything but.
    Play continued. Sinead didn’t even try to pay attention to the game at large anymore; she focused only on Adam, sitting in the penalty box or on the bench, but mostly when he was out on the ice. He made skating look so effortless; they all did. It was fascinating to watch such physically formidable men being so graceful and fluid. And God, they were all so fast.
    “You wanna go say hello to your client when the game is over?” Quinn asked.
    “Sure.” It made sense: he’d see that she was serious about knowing all she could about his job, so she could build the best case to defend him. But that wasn’t the only reason she wanted to see him. She forced her gaze back to the ice.

    The Blades had won 4-3, so the mood in the packed Green Room outside the locker room was upbeat.
    Sinead was on her way back from the banquet table, where she’d grabbed some bottled water, when Lou Capesi’s voice cut through the din. “Hey, hey, number one attorney.”
    Sinead turned, smiling. “Hi, Lou.”
    “Nice to see you,” said Lou. “How’s the case going?”
    Sinead took a sip of water. “Pretty well, I think. I’m still interviewing people. In fact, I’ve been meaning to call you. Can you recommend any sportswriters who’d be inclined to speak favorably about Adam?”
    “Doll, they’ll all speak favorably about Adam; he’s a throwback, and the ink-stained wretches all love ‘old-time hockey.’ Shoot me a call, and I’ll hook you up with the big boys who have some clout.”
    “Thanks.” She glanced discreetly around the room. “Where is Adam, by the way?”
    “Still in the locker room, talking to the press.”
    “Is he good at that?” she asked apprehensively.
    “He knows what to say and what not to say, if that’s what you mean.”
    “Good,” Sinead said with relief.
    “Look, honey, don’t worry: the PR machine here has got his back.”
    “I appreciate that.”
    “You wanna talk to him? I’ll go tell him you’re here.”
    “Yes, that would be good,” she said, trying to cover her nervousness.
    “You got it. In the meantime, get yourself a donut or something. You look too thin.”
    Lou waddled off. Sinead tried to imagine Adam talking to the press. He must hate it, she thought.
    She took a deep breath. The room was packed; there was no air circulating. She hoped it didn’t give her a headache. Quinn sidled up to her, chewing on a bagel.
    “Where’s your famous client?”
    “Talking to the press, apparently.” Sinead took a long drink of water. “Who are all these people?”
    “Family, friends, guests.” Quinn peered into her eyes