Page 79 of Brooklynaire

“Indeed,” I agree. “Actually, here.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a twenty. “It’s not really fair for the intern to lose hercash.”

Her eyes widen with surprise, and then she pushes the bill back toward me. “Fair’s fair. I’ll prolly win the nextone.”

Knowing her, she probablywill.

She scampers off to refresh both our drinks, and Stew sidles up to me. “That was a close one, Bec. Three more seconds and you would have been tied. Do you think arm-wrestling would make a goodtiebreaker?”

“I could totally take her,” I say, and helaughs.

“By the way,” he adds under his breath. “That was nice of you to offer her the twenty back. But you know she can affordit.”

“I do?” I don’t know a thing about Heidi Jo because I try never to ask her questions. It’s too risky. Once she starts talking there’s no offbutton.

Stew makes a surprised sound. “Come on, Bec. You don’t miss much. She’s the league commissioner’sdaughter.”

“The…” League commissioner? “Of the NHL?Really?”

“Yup. Heidi Jo is Heidi JoPepper. Daddy got mad when she dropped out of Bryn Mawr so he sent her to work on ateam.”

“Oh, hell. Lucky me.” Stew winks and goes back to his seat. While I stand there rewinding every conversation I ever had with my intern, trying to decide how mean I’ve been.Shit.

She sits down beside me a minute later and hands me myglass.

“Thank you very much! That’s so kind of you,” Igush.

She gives me a sideways glance. “What did that man just tellyou?”

“Hmm? What man?” I don’t look her in theeye.

“That lottery guy. He told you who my daddy is, right? And now you’re gonna be all extra nice. That’s bullshit, Becca. I’m just the intern. I don’t need specialtreatment.”

Whoops. “Uh, okay.Sorry.”

Heidi Jo looks grumpy for the first time since I mether.

But then our players take the ice, and everything else is forgotten. Unfortunately, Detroit scores a goal on Beacon five minutes in, ending thegame.

A “sudden death” overtime is always a little shocking. For a moment it’s quiet in the box as we all stare down at the ice, trying to deny what our eyes justsaw.

Nate leans back in his chair, tips his head back andsighs.

“Better luck next time, boys,” Stewsays.

“Nate,” Georgia says from the doorway. “We’ll need youdownstairs.”

That’s it. My night is done. I can slip out the back and finally get somesleep.

And then I realize I left my coat downstairs. So I’m stuck following the VIPs out of the box and toward theelevator.

I hang back, taking the last car. Heidi Jo has ditched me—finally. I’m alone with my sluggish thoughts until the elevator doors open on the post-game mayhem. The hallway is full of journalists and support staff. Georgia and her colleague are trying to herd reporters into the press room. I work my way through this craziness toward Hugh’s office, where I think I tossed mycoat.

“MissRowley.”

Nate’s voice stops me as I pass his office door. When I turn, I see he’s perched on the edge of the desk, probably because Georgia asked him to wait there until it’s his turn to step up to the press conference dais. His tie is straight and his shirt is crisp. Whereas my makeup is smudged and I feel as though I’ve summited a mountain in these clothes, he looks like a millionbucks.

Or a billion.Technically.

“Is there something you need?” I ask.Please say no. “And what’s with this Miss Rowley business?” After I ask, I want to kick myself. Letting on that it bothers me is probably a badidea.