Page 21 of Bar Down (Charm City Chill #2)

T hree months later

The Charm City Chill's season-ending party was in full swing at Kane's sprawling waterfront home. Players, staff, and their plus-ones crowded the expansive deck overlooking the bay. Music pulsed from outdoor speakers, and the smell of grilled steaks mingled with salt air.

Oliver Chenofski—Chenny to everyone except his grandmother—sat on the edge of the deck with his feet dangling over the water. Charlie rested his head on Chenny's knee, the pit bull's steady presence keeping his anxiety at manageable levels despite the crowd.

"There you are," a familiar voice said.

Chenny looked up to see Marcus approaching with two beers. He handed one to Chenny and sat down beside him.

"Hiding from the team nutritionist?" Chenny asked, accepting the bottle.

"Just needed some air. Kane invited half the city."

They tapped bottles and drank in companionable silence. From here, they could see Stephanie in an animated conversation with Lauren and Jax. She caught Marcus watching and flashed him a private smile.

"You two are disgustingly happy," Chenny said.

"We found a house," Marcus replied, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice. "Closing next week."

"That was fast."

"When you know what you want, why wait?" Marcus took another sip. "Speaking of which, Coach Vicky was looking for you."

Chenny groaned. "What did I do now?"

"Nothing. She mentioned something about the team bringing in a sports psychologist for next season. Wants to talk to you about it."

Chenny tensed. Charlie sensed it immediately, nudging his hand for reassurance.

"If this is about the suspension—"

"It's not punishment," Marcus cut in. "It's support. For all of us. After everything that happened this season..."

Chenny scratched behind Charlie's ears. "I don't need therapy."

"Says the guy who brings a service dog to hockey practice."

"Charlie's different."

Marcus shrugged. "Just talk to her. Darby & Darby is investing in mental health. That's a good thing."

Down on the dock, Dmitri was showing off his balance by walking the railing. Rookies cheered him on. Through the sliding glass doors, Chenny spotted Stephanie deep in conversation with Westfield and a woman he didn't recognize.

"Who's that with Steph and the boss?" he asked.

Marcus followed his gaze. "New hire for the front office. Tech background, I think. Stephanie mentioned her yesterday."

The woman turned slightly, and Chenny caught a glimpse of her profile—sharp cheekbones, dark hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, glasses that should have looked nerdy but somehow didn't.

"Tech background," Chenny repeated. Something prickled at the back of his neck. Not anxiety. Interest.

"Yeah, why?"

Chenny shook his head. "Just curious."

Marcus's phone buzzed. He checked it and smiled. "Steph's asking if we want to join them. Apparently, the new hire is a hockey fan. Played in college."

"I'll pass," Chenny said, patting Charlie. "Social battery's running low."

After Marcus left, Chenny pulled out his phone. He hadn't touched his specialty apps since the Reed situation, had promised himself he wouldn't. Too dangerous. Too close to lines he shouldn't cross.

But something about the new tech hire made him curious. Professional instinct maybe.

He opened a browser and typed in a search: Darby & Darby new hires technology

Charlie whined softly beside him.

"Just looking," Chenny told the dog. "Nothing illegal."

The search returned several recent press releases. He scrolled until a name caught his eye: Dr. Heather Quincy. The photo matched the woman inside. Head of Digital Security and Analytics Integration. Former white hat hacker. PhD in Computer Science from MIT.

He scrolled further. Dr. Quincy's hiring announcement mentioned her background in "identifying and addressing security vulnerabilities in sports analytics systems."

Chenny closed the browser, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. This wasn't coincidence. After Reed's hacking attempt and Chenny's role in countering it, Darby & Darby had brought in a security expert. Someone to patch holes. Someone to track digital footprints.

Someone who might recognize his work.

Charlie nudged his hand again, sensing his unease.

"It's fine, buddy," he murmured. "We're fine."

Through the glass doors, he watched as Stephanie introduced Marcus to Dr. Quincy. They shook hands, exchanged words. Then the woman smiled and said something that made Marcus laugh and Stephanie raise her eyebrows.

Dr. Quincy glanced toward the deck. For a split second, her eyes seemed to lock with his across the distance.

Chenny looked away first.

The off-season stretched ahead like uncharted territory. Three months to decide whether to renew his lease. Three months to train. Three months to make sure his digital tracks were fully covered before Dr. Heather Quincy started digging.

Charlie whined again, more insistent this time.

"You're right," Chenny said, scratching the dog's favorite spot behind his left ear. "Time to go home."

As he stood, his phone vibrated with a text notification. Unknown number.

He opened it, expecting spam.

Instead, he read: That was some slap shot against Reed's security system. Clean. Fast. Devastating. We should talk. -HQ

Chenny stared at the message, pulse quickening. She knew. Somehow, she already knew.

Charlie pressed his warm body against Chenny's leg, grounding him as the anxiety spiked.

He typed a response, deleted it, typed again.

Don't know what you're talking about.

The reply came almost instantly: Yes, you do. And your defensive skills aren't limited to the blue line. Tomorrow, 10 AM, The Coffee Hub. Come alone. Or bring Charlie. Your choice.

Chenny deleted both messages, slipping his phone back into his pocket. His hands were steady, but his heart raced. A challenge. A threat. Or maybe something else entirely.

Tomorrow's problem. Not tonight's.

Tonight, he'd celebrate his teammates' happiness from a safe distance. Tomorrow, he'd figure out how to face what came next.

And next season? That was a whole different game.