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Gavin stared across the table at the principal owner, chairman, president, and two CEOs of the team’s ownership group. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to meet today.”

Ned Merritt, the principal owner, nodded. “We are.”

“It’s time to make some changes around here.”

The president of the ownership group, Lindsey Phelps, frowned. “What kind of changes?”

“I plan to step down as interim president of hockey ops.”

Several of them exchanged glances, but no one spoke, so Gavin continued.

“My decision is multi-layered,” he explained. He went into some of the details of the heart issues he’d been having, then took a deep breath. “In addition to needing to make some changes for my health, I have a more personal reason to make this decision.”

Eyebrows rose.

“I fell in love with someone who works for the organization.”

Gavin hadn’t planned those exact words when he prepared for this meeting, but they felt right. He thought of Dakota’s quiet support as he told him about his past, the soft concern in his voice, the willingness to play mediator between him and his brother, and smiled.

Those were all things he couldn’t have imagined sharing with Rory. Ways Rory had never supported him.

What he’d thought was love had been lust and infatuation.

He’d cared for Rory, there was no doubt about that. But they’d been married and he hadn’t let Rory in the way he’d let Dakota in already. The depth of his growing feelings for Dakota was so much more than he could have imagined. The hope for their future together seemed ever-expanding.

If that wasn’t love, what was?

Ned raised an eyebrow. “And who is it that you’re—involved with?”

“Dakota Crane.”

Glances were exchanged again. “The yoga and Pilates instructor for the team?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it's better than it could have been, I suppose,” Paul Stevenson—one of the CEOs—said. But despite his words, the tight clench of his jaw made his disapproval very clear.

“Were you anticipating something else?” Gavin asked as neutrally as he could manage.

“Well, no, not precisely. Only, this will be easier to sell than you being involved with a player.”

Why the fuck does everyone leap to that conclusion?

“I wouldn’t have gotten involved with a player,” he said, taking a deep breath. “It wouldn’t be ethical. As it is, I had some concerns about getting involved with Dakota, which is why me stepping down makes the most sense.”

“No, no, it’s good you got ahead of it,” Ned said with a wave of his hand. “We appreciate you being pro-active. I can’t say I’m thrilled about the idea of you being involved with someone in the organization, but we can work with this.”

Gavin gritted his teeth, wondering if it would have been the same response if he’d told them he was involved with a woman.

Paul laughed. “Honestly, we thought if there was an erm, scandal, it would’ve involved your brother.”

“My brother has done nothing wrong,” Gavin said hotly.

“You must admit, with his personality and erm, history, it did seem like the potential was there.”

“Thad has consistently gotten rave reviews from his supervisor,” Gavin pointed out. “Our social media metrics have been excellent since he joined the organization.”

“Yes, well …”

Gavin ground his teeth together, realizing it was time for him to finally come clean. It was something he and Dakota had discussed, and he’d had a conversation with his lawyer about it, knowing the risk he was taking. They might very well let him go.

But it was the right thing to do, and he was tired of living with the shadow of this hanging over his head.

“All we’re saying,” Lindsey said, pursing her lips, “Is that you’re lucky it has worked out so well with Thad. You really put your neck on the line getting him hired.”

“I’m aware,” Gavin said shortly. He took a deep breath. “ You should be aware you don't have the entire story about his arrest, however.”

Paul’s lips tightened. “Isn't this something we should have been made aware of before we hired him. At your insistence, I might add.”

Gavin took a deep breath. “Truthfully, it's something I should have made you aware of before you hired me.”

“Oh?” Ned’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.

“When my brother and I were in high school, I got involved with some less than reputable people,” Gavin began. By the time he was done, he could feel a throbbing vein in his temple. God, stress like this was not good for him. “I understand if everything we've discussed is a dealbreaker for you. But I believe I still have work to do for this team.”

He cleared his throat. “And while I know this may not impact your overall decision; you should also be aware I’ve lined up a possible candidate for the position of president of hockey ops once I step down.”

Or get fired, he finished in his head with a grim sort of humor.

“And who is that?” Ned asked.

“Finnegan O’Shea.”

The shock around the table was gratifying.

“How in the hell did you pull that off? We’ve been trying to get him to work for the organization for years ,” Paul burst out with.

Confidence returning, Gavin smiled. “Well, it turns out, he’s excited by the thought of working with me.”

And here was the mic drop moment. “In fact,” Gavin added in a casual tone. “He said he’s not interested in working with anyone else.”

Lindsey and Ned exchanged glances. “You’re saying if you were no longer working as general manager, Finn wouldn’t want the hockey ops position?” she asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Gavin sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. “Oh, and if you’re worried, Declan and Finn also know about my past.”

The surprise on their faces was gratifying.

“I know you’ve been looking for a way to get someone in the O’Shea family in the head office. Well, here’s your chance.”

“You’re trying to tie our hands,” Paul said, narrowing his eyes.

Gavin shrugged. “No, just negotiating the best possible deal. And, you have to admit, this will only be good for the organization.”

“You still haven’t shown us a winning roster,” Ned said tightly. “And while I can’t deny having an O’Shea working for the organization will be a marketing coup, the truth is, it’s having a team that’s exciting to watch in the playoffs that’ll sell the most tickets.”

“Oh, no argument there,” Gavin agreed. “Which is why you’ll be pleased to know Rafael Moon was signed today.”

“Last we’d heard, he had no interest in leaving Minnesota,” Paul said, not even bothering to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, well, things change,” Gavin reminded them.

Paul leaned forward. “What was the deal for?”

“Bobby Tucker, a conditional second-round pick in the twenty-twenty-six NHL Draft and a fourth-round pick in this year’s draft.”

“That’s not bad,” Paul said slowly. “I haven’t been overly impressed with Tucker’s production this season.”

“No, it wasn’t where I hoped either.” Ned sighed.

“We have other forward prospects we can explore to fill his position,” Gavin said. “I have several in Concord showing promise. But it isn’t our offense that’s in question. It’s our defense. I have every reason to believe Moon will be one of those pieces we’re lacking. I also am in talks with Jed Reilly from LA for another piece. I have a plan and if you give me enough time to execute it, I have every reason to believe success will follow.”

“You really left us no other option, did you?” Ned sounded vaguely disgusted.

Gavin smothered a grin, instead choosing to look everyone at the table in the eye. “Oh, you always have options.” He shrugged. “You can let me go. There are plenty of other teams that’ll be interested.”

“But if we do,” Lindsey said drily, “then we need to hire a new GM, new president of hockey ops, risk the public thinking we fired you because of your relationship to Dakota, and it’ll set us back another few years. Connor O’Shea is in his mid-thirties. He won’t play forever.”

Gavin shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a good option.”

“You’re a son of a bitch—you know that Racine?” Paul said, but there was something grudgingly appreciative in his tone.

“So I’ve been told,” Gavin agreed, finally letting himself grin.

He hadn’t made any friends today, that was for sure. But they did respect him. And this was the kind of move he was known for. Bold. Decisive. A little risky. And it felt damn good.

“While I’m at it, I’d like your assurance all members of the LGBTQ+ community are welcome in this organization.”

Ned looked offended. “Of course they are!”

“Does that include our transgender sisters and brothers?”

“Well of course,” Lindsey said slowly. “Though if you’re talking about a player, that’s a good deal more complicated. I don’t know that the league has even considered?—”

“Not a player,” Gavin assured her. “Support staff.”

“They damn well better be welcome,” Ned sputtered, “or our Pride nights are merely for show.”

Gavin had always wondered if Ned’s staunch insistence on welcoming the community was because he simply believed it was the right thing to do or if it was more personal. Supporting a family member or a loved one, perhaps.

Gavin had also wondered how far that support went. But Ned’s reaction was reassuring. And, Gavin supposed, it didn’t really matter why he was supportive, so long as he was.

“Well, that’s excellent news,” he said. “One of our staff members came to me with some concerns and I’m glad I can reassure them.”

“You tell them if anyone gives them issues, they’ll have to go through me first,” Ned said hotly.

Gavin smiled. “I’ll pass that along.”

A former hockey player himself, Ned was a good egg. They butted heads sometimes, but in the end, Ned loved hockey and wanted the team to win.

As long as he continued to trust Gavin would deliver that win, Gavin’s career was likely secure.

Gavin was going to have to keep making trades until he built a team that would win. A team that could take them all the way to the Stanley Cup.

“How’d it go?” Amelia asked the moment Gavin passed her desk on the way through his outer office.

He glanced around. “Well, I think, but let’s talk in here.” He nodded toward his inner office, and she raised an eyebrow, but followed.

With the door closed, he sighed, his shoulders lowering.

“That stressful, huh?” Amelia asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “I think I pulled it off though.”

She grinned. “I knew you would.”

“I’m glad one of us has confidence in me,” he said with a twist of his lips.

“Pfftt.” Amelia waved him off. “You wouldn’t have even attempted what you did in there if you didn’t have some confidence in yourself. I know everything going on has been overwhelming and maybe that confidence has been shaken, but you’re the same badass negotiator you’ve always been.”

“I did get Moon signed,” he admitted.

“And you got Finn O’Shea on board with the organization, which is a huge coup if you ask me.”

“I did, although Declan had as much to do with that as anything,” Gavin pointed out.

“Who you had lined up to go to bat for you if the bigwigs weren’t on board with everything. You outmaneuvered them and you know it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Gavin grinned.

Amelia laughed. “Yeah, you did! Now, let’s get back to work. This organization doesn’t run itself.”

“True,” he admitted. “Although I have one thing to do first. I need to let Dakota know how the meeting went.”

Amelia gave him a soft smile. “And that right there is how I know this relationship is different than the one you had with Rory. You’d never have picked him over work.”

“It turns out, this old dog can learn new tricks after all,” he admitted.