“Sure.”

“Great.” Cella walked into the office and tossed what appeared to be an itinerary on Toni’s desk. “This really helps. Thanks.”

“Wait.” Toni looked down at the paperwork, then at Cella Malone. “You want me to go to . . . to . . . ?”

“Yeah.”

“Why am I going to Russia?”

“I can’t go. I have to take care of something here. And you said you’d help.”

“I thought I’d help with non-coaching-related stuff. Or, I don’t know . . . organize your files or something.”

“This isn’t necessarily a coach thing. Besides, it’s about Novikov. You like Novikov.”

Exasperated, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Actually, this is team travel-related, which is your job.”

“Yes, but—”

“So go over to Russia and get them to let the team in with Novikov but not in a cage. But remember, no Novikov, no game, and then we never get a chance at the title of best in the world.”

Ricky smirked. “Did you just make that title up, Cella Malone?”

“Shut up, Reed.”

Desperate, Toni asked, “But is it really that important that he goes?”

“He has to go,” Ricky piped up. “The team can’t win against the Russian teams without Novikov. There are mostly bears on the Russian teams.”

“I don’t care.” Toni stopped, took a breath. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me, a jackal, to go to a bear-populated area to argue for the rights of Bo Novikov.”

“It’s better you do it than me.”

“How is it better, Cella? You’re the team coach and you’re a Siberian tiger . . . so aren’t the Russians your people?”

“Not really. Siberian tigers in Russia are not fans of the Malones.”

“Is anyone fans of the Malones?” Dee-Ann asked.

“Shut up, hick.”

“But,” Toni pushed ahead, still desperate, “what am I supposed to do with Russian bears?”

“Do what you do.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Look, kid,” Cella said, sounding annoyingly exasperated, “you managed to control and calm down Bo ‘The Marauder’ Novikov without use of a stun gun or a tranquilizer dart. So if you can manage him . . . I think you can manage a couple of frickin’ bears.”

“Yes, but—”

“Just do it. God! Take some initiative. Woman up!”

“I just don’t think I’ll feel . . . safe. You know? Unsafe work situation or whatever.”

“She has a point,” Dee-Ann drawled. “Get her mauled by some damn Russian bears, Malone, and Ric will have your ass.She is considered family by the Van Holtzes.”

“You and I have other things to handle, Smith.”

“First off, don’t snarl at me, hell cat. And second, just get her some dang security.”

“I would send Bert . . . but he hates flying and he’s still in Alaska.”

“Lord, woman, don’t send a player with her,” Dee-Ann snapped. “Get someone actually trained in security.” And that’s when she pointed at Ricky. “He’ll do it.”

The wolf, who’d been staring off during most of this conversation, suddenly looked alert. “What?”

“Like you’ve got anything better to do.”

“That’s not the point, Dee-Ann. I’m just one wolf—and these are bears. Russian bears. Smith Pack and Russian bears do not mix, or do you not remember Pack lore?”

“That was like a hundred years ago. I’m sure they’re over what happened by now.”

Toni put her elbows on her desk and dropped her face into her hands. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Oh, buck up, kid,” Cella told her, reaching across the desk and patting Toni on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Just don’t get any of them angry or let the polars sniff you or allow yourself to be left alone with any of the Kamchatka bears who haven’t eaten.”

Slowly, Toni lifted her head and looked at the head coach of the New York Carnivores. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”

“Pretty much. Good luck!” Cella walked out the door. “Come on, Smith. Let’s move.”

Dee-Ann looked between Toni and Ricky. After a moment, she said, “Take good care of her, Ricky Lee. Make your momma proud.”

She left and Ricky jumped up. “I’ll be right back,” he said before he quickly walked out of the room.

Less than a minute later, he was back, dropping into the chair he’d just vacated.

“That was fast,” Toni said.

“Yeah.”

“What did Dee say?”

“Before I could say a word, she said I could go with you and deal with bears or stay here and have long, meaningful talks with the females of my Pack about Laura Jane.” He smirked. “Guess which one I chose?”

“Ricky?”

“Yeah?”

She leaned forward a bit and whispered, “I don’t want to go to Russia.”

“Come on, darlin’, it won’t be that bad. And unlike my younger sibling, I do know how to handle bears. Besides, with all the places you’ve traveled, you can’t tell me you’ve never been to Russia before.”

“Sure I have. But I’ve been to Russia Russia. You know, Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Omsk.”