Page 13

Chapter 13

Paige

I adjusted my skirt for what felt like the thirteenth time, my fingers twitching with nervous energy. The conference room, a sterile space of glass and chrome, seemed to amplify my anxiety. I could see my reflection in the polished table, my eyes darting toward the door every few seconds.

Ryker and John Barrett walked in together. Ryker’s presence filled the room with an air of command; his broad shoulders and piercing eyes made it impossible not to notice him. His jawline was set like he was ready for a fight, and I wondered if that was just his default mode. Barrett, on the other hand, moved with a more casual confidence. His graying hair and warm smile made him seem approachable, almost fatherly.

I refused to look at Ryker. Not after our confrontation last night. The memory of his hand on my throat, his face inches from mine, still sent shivers down my spine. I forced my gaze to remain fixed on the table in front of me.

Gideon sat at the head of the table, a man who radiated authority without needing to raise his voice. His dark suit was impeccably tailored, and he wore an expression that brooked no nonsense. He tapped his pen against a legal pad, waiting for everyone to settle in.

Ryker and Barrett took their seats across from me. I felt Ryker’s eyes on me but kept mine firmly planted on Gideon.

"Let's begin," Gideon said, his voice steady and calm.

The meeting was underway, but my mind was elsewhere, still caught in the web of tension spun between Ryker and me.

Gideon leaned forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. "The press conference went well," he began, his eyes sweeping across the room. "But Paige has been fielding questions non-stop for the last twenty-four hours. We're about to start preseason, and this is not how we want to begin."

I could feel Ryker's gaze burning into the side of my face, but I kept my eyes on Gideon.

"We need to change the narrative," Gideon continued. "We're going to do a last-minute charity event in two weeks."

A murmur rippled through the room, skepticism hanging thick in the air. Barrett shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "That's impossible to coordinate on such short notice."

"I'll handle it," I said, my voice cutting through the noise. The room fell silent, and I finally allowed myself a glance at Ryker. His eyes narrowed, but I held my ground.

Ryker’s lip curled into a smirk. "As long as you don’t set everything up only to leave when we need you the most."

I felt a hot surge of anger but didn’t let it show on my face. Instead, I met his glare head-on. "I won’t," I said firmly.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, still glaring at me. I didn't flinch, didn't look away.

Gideon cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had wrapped itself around the room like a suffocating blanket. "Good. Paige, you'll have full support from the team for this event. Make it count."

Nodding, I finally looked away from Ryker and focused back on Gideon. "Understood."

Barrett sighed, rubbing his temples as if warding off an impending headache. "All right then, let's make sure this goes off without a hitch."

"Preseason is critical. We can't afford any more distractions. Last year was a mess—Minka and Levi’s relationship, Connor Bradley's antics, Richard Mathers resigning. We've been under a microscope for all the wrong reasons."

He paused, letting the words sink in. I saw heads nodding around the table, everyone feeling the gravity of our situation.

"We cannot let this team go down as just a drama-filled circus with no substance," he emphasized, his gaze piercing through each of us.

Finally, he looked directly at Ryker. "You will be headlining an event."

Ryker stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "What?"

"You heard me," Gideon said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to get your act together. You lost control, and now, you're going to make up for it."

Ryker's jaw clenched, but he stayed silent.

"You'll be organizing a back-to-school shopping trip with disadvantaged youth from our hockey affiliation program," Gideon continued. "It's time you showed some genuine accountability."

"I don't understand why I have to keep apologizing," Ryker muttered, frustration lacing his words.

Gideon leaned forward, eyes locked on Ryker. "Because your apologies are just words right now. Until you back them up with action, no one will trust you."

The room fell silent again, tension palpable. Ryker's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and confusion, but he didn't argue further.

Gideon's words hung in the air like a heavy fog, wrapping around each of us and pressing down with an undeniable truth: actions speak louder than words.

"You'll also help Paige with the event," Gideon said, looking directly at Ryker.

"What?" Ryker bellowed, his voice echoing off the glass walls. "That's too much! I already have my hands full with training and now this shopping trip? You can't just dump more on me!"

Gideon's gaze hardened. "No one trusts this team because of these scandals, Ryker. No one has taken real responsibility. We have to lean into this hard and fast so our fans understand we aren't just bullshitting them. As captain, there's even more expectation on you. You will do this, Ryker. This isn't just about you; it's for the team."

Ryker’s jaw clenched tight, his fists curling at his sides. He looked like he wanted to argue but swallowed his words instead.

Gideon’s voice softened slightly but remained firm. "Besides that," he said slowly, scanning the room, "is there anything else, anything anyone can suggest that might take away from this?"

Barrett cleared his throat. "We could increase our community outreach efforts overall. Maybe some hospital visits or reading programs at local schools."

"Good idea," Gideon nodded, jotting it down on his legal pad.

Lena, our media coordinator, spoke up next. "We should also highlight our players' personal stories on social media—show their human side more often."

Gideon nodded again. "That's exactly what we need. Personal connections will help rebuild trust."

Simon leaned forward, a grin playing on his lips. "How about a fan day? Something interactive where they can meet the players up close and personal?"

"I like that," Gideon said. "We can make it part of the charity event."

The room hummed with a sense of renewed purpose, ideas flowing more freely now.

I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. "We could pick up Jared Crowder," I suggested, my voice steady despite the tension.

Silence fell over the room like a heavy curtain.

"You've got to be joking," Ryker finally spat out, his eyes narrowing at me.

"Why?" I asked, meeting his glare head-on. "Crowder's stats are solid. He's still putting up good numbers for someone in his thirties. He'd be a reliable third-liner, maybe even second."

Ryker's face twisted in disbelief. "He's a weasel, Paige. The players hate him. And don't forget his history with Cole."

"His numbers speak for themselves," I insisted, not backing down. "He's got the experience and the skills we need right now."

Gideon remained silent, his gaze shifting between us.

"You can't actually be contemplating this," Ryker said, turning to Gideon. "You know the Southern Serpent as well as I do. Do you care about this team? This isn't the best idea."

Gideon's eyes flicked back to me, a question hanging in the air.

"There's a reason the Toronto Rangers aren't re-signing him," Ryker added, his tone dripping with frustration.

"It's due to cap space," I countered, my voice unwavering.

"Then why hasn't anyone else picked him up?" Ryker threw back at me, his words sharp as knives.

I paused, searching for an answer that would break through Ryker's wall of resistance. The room felt charged with electricity, every eye fixed on us as we stood at this impasse.

The tension was palpable; even Barrett seemed to hold his breath.

"Look," I said, leaning forward, my hands resting on the polished table. "Jared Crowder's stats as a center are impressive. He's got a solid faceoff win percentage, he's strong on the penalty kill, and he's not afraid to protect his players."

"He's a scrawny piece of shit," Ryker retorted, his eyes narrowing at me.

"He's clever," I pointed out, not backing down. "Smart. And he's not afraid of a fight, even if he's lean."

"He and Weston Cole have a history," Gideon interjected, his tone serious. "It's not a good one."

I furrowed my brows, searching for any hint of exaggeration in Gideon's face.

"And here I thought you did your research." Ryker sneered. "Weston and Crowder's sister hooked up. Crowder was furious and during a game, let Weston know how he felt about it—knee on knee. Weston was out the rest of the season."

"That was four years ago," I said, keeping my voice steady.

"So?" Ryker shot back. "You think someone just forgets about that?"

"You can't have it both ways, Mr. Kane," I said firmly. "If you want to protect the team from your scandal, this is the best way to do it. If you don't because of one person, you're not really thinking about the team as a whole."

Ryker's jaw clenched again, his eyes boring into mine as if trying to find any crack in my argument.

Gideon remained silent for a moment, tapping his pen against the table thoughtfully. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Finally, Gideon spoke up. "We'll consider it," he said, looking directly at me before turning his gaze to Ryker. "But only if we can ensure there won't be any further issues between Crowder and Cole." He shifted his gaze to Barrett. "What do you think? Could you use him?"

Barrett leaned back, crossing his arms. He was quiet for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought. "Crowder’s got some baggage, no doubt," he began, voice steady. "He’s had a few run-ins with coaches and teammates in the past. And yeah, the incident with Cole isn’t something we can just brush off."

I watched Barrett’s face closely, seeing the gears turning in his head as he weighed the pros and cons.

"But," Barrett continued, "he’s also one hell of a player. His faceoff percentage is one of the best in the league. He’s solid on the penalty kill and can hold his own in scrums despite his size."

Gideon nodded slowly, taking in Barrett's assessment.

"Do you think he'd fit?" Gideon asked, his eyes sharp.

Barrett sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "If he can keep that damned silver tongue in check in the locker room, yeah," he said finally. "We need someone with his skill set. It could work, but it's a risk."

I felt a flicker of hope at Barrett's words. Maybe this was our chance to turn things around, to prove that we could rise above the chaos that had plagued us.

Gideon remained thoughtful, tapping his pen against the table as he mulled over Barrett's input. The room fell silent once more, each of us waiting for Gideon's final decision.

Ryker shifted, his frustration still palpable, but I refused to look at him. Instead, I focused on Gideon, hoping that my suggestion had planted a seed of possibility in his mind.

Gideon’s eyes finally met mine again. There was a spark of consideration there that hadn’t been before. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly.

"All right," he said at last. "We’ll look into it further. But if we bring Crowder on board, I expect everyone—" His gaze flicked to Ryker for emphasis—"to make sure this team stays united."

Ryker’s jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. The tension still hung between us like an unspoken challenge.

Gideon stood, smoothing out his suit jacket. His eyes locked onto me, and I felt the weight of his expectations.

"Paige," he began, his voice firm, "I want you to secure the charity event at the Moonshade Astoria. They’ve got the facilities we need, and it's a good central location."

I nodded, already making mental notes. "Understood."

"And for catering," he continued, "reach out to Leona’s Bistro. They’ve handled large events for us before, and their menu has always been a hit."

"Got it," I replied, jotting down the details.

Gideon's gaze shifted to Ryker. "You and Paige will meet in her office to finalize the back-to-school event. We need that on the books by tomorrow so we have something concrete for the press. This has to shift attention away from the incident. We cannot afford any more negative coverage. Am I clear?"

Ryker’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Crystal."

Gideon turned to Barrett next. "Make sure you relay this message to the team. We have a lot of rookies trying out, and we need to set the tone early. We will not tolerate any more clowns or distractions."

Barrett nodded, his expression serious. "Understood."

“We have our plan,” he said, standing up. “Let’s make it happen. Paige, Ryker—coordinate immediately. Barrett, get the team in line. Lena, start drafting the social media strategy.”

Everyone nodded, the gravity of his words sinking in. We couldn’t afford any more missteps.

“Meeting adjourned,” Gideon said, gathering his papers and heading out of the room.

I stood up, feeling the weight of my responsibilities settle on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. I grabbed my notebook and pen, shoving them into my bag. The last thing I wanted was to be around Ryker, but I had no choice.

As I moved to leave the conference room, Ryker was already standing by the door, his posture tense. He didn’t look at me as we exited into the hallway together.

“We need to get this done,” I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that stretched between us.

“Yeah,” he replied tersely.

I walked quickly to my office, my heels clicking against the polished floor. Ryker’s presence beside me felt like a storm cloud ready to burst.

Inside my office, I dropped my bag onto the desk. Ryker moved inside, his eyes scanning the room but avoiding mine.

This was ridiculous. I took in a breath before releasing it. I needed to calm down. Even if I had every reason to be upset with Ryker, that anger wasn't going to help the situation.

Ryker sighed audibly. "Let's get this over with."