Page 21 of Cold Shoulder, Hot Take (Seattle Puckaneers #2)

GOLDA

“ A nd if you could just sign here, Ms. Adler.” Kyla slides another form across her desk. “This confirms the usage rights for the player introduction videos and any additional promotional material for the remainder of the season.”

I scan the paperwork carefully, checking for any clauses that might require public appearances. After last month’s anthem disaster, I’m being extra cautious about what I’m agreeing to.

“Recording sessions can be scheduled at your convenience,” Kyla continues, “and we can coordinate with your home studio setup if that’s easier.”

“Home studio would be perfect,” I say, signing the contract. “Better sound quality, and I won’t have to arrange childcare.”

The money from this contract will cover Tyson’s hockey fees for the next three months, plus Blythe’s skating lessons. Kyla kept her word about making me her first call for team projects.

“Your payment will be processed within forty-eight hours,” she says, gathering the forms. “Is there anything else you need from me today?”

“Actually, there is one small thing.” She pulls out another folder. “We’re updating our media guidelines. Since you’ll be doing regular work for us, we need you to review and sign the confidentiality agreement.”

The contract is dense with legal language about privacy expectations and media protocols. I settle in to read it properly, trying not to think about the fact that Dex is probably somewhere in this building right now, doing whatever professional hockey players do on Thursday afternoons.

I’m halfway through the confidentiality clauses when there’s a knock on Kyla’s door.

“Come in,” Kyla calls.

“Kyla, do you have those— Oh!” Elliot stops in the doorway, her face lighting up with genuine surprise. “Golda! What are you doing here?”

“Voice-over work,” I say, gesturing at the contracts. “Just finishing up paperwork.”

“That’s wonderful! More projects with the team?” Elliot steps into the office like she belongs there, which she probably does. “I’m here for photos with Brody, and desperately needed better coffee than whatever they serve in the player lounge.”

“The facilities here are definitely nicer than our usual rink,” I agree.

“Much.” She grins. “Listen, I was just about to grab lunch, and I hate eating alone. Any chance you’re free? There’s a great place just down the street.”

I glance at the contracts still spread across Kyla’s desk. “I should probably finish?—”

“Take the confidentiality agreement with you,” Kyla waves a hand. “You can bring it back next week when you come in for recording.”

“Perfect,” Elliot says, already gathering the papers. “Lunch it is. My treat—consider it a welcome to the extended hockey family celebration.”

Before I can come up with a polite excuse, I find myself following Elliot through the facility’s gleaming hallways, the distinct feeling that I’ve just been expertly maneuvered tempered by the fact that I actually enjoyed our conversation at the rink.

The restaurant is upscale casual—the kind of place where they don’t list prices but the food is actually worth it. We’re seated by a window overlooking a small courtyard, the Seattle drizzle providing a soothing backdrop.

“So,” Elliot says once we’ve ordered, “voice-over work for the team. That must be exciting.”

“It’s good work,” I say carefully. “Steady, and they pay well.”

“I heard some of the recordings. You made corporate copy sound actually interesting, which should qualify for miracle worker status.” She takes a sip of water. “Have you always done commercial work?”

“Mostly. Some audiobooks.” I’m not sure why I add that last part.

“Audiobooks? That’s fascinating. What kind?”

“Various genres. Romance is popular right now.” The words feel strange coming out of my mouth in this context.

“I bet that’s challenging—bringing all those different characters to life.

” Elliot’s phone buzzes on the table. She glances at it, then looks up with a slightly sheepish expression.

“Speaking of my overgrown child of a husband... apparently he and Dex just finished their meeting and are looking for lunch. They want to know if they can join us.”

My heart does something complicated at the mention of his name. “Oh. I?—”

“I can absolutely tell them we’re having important female bonding time,” Elliot offers, though something in her expression suggests she’s hoping I’ll say yes. “Brody’s used to rejection.”

I should say no. Should stick to my safe boundaries. But looking at Elliot’s open, friendly face, thinking about how normal this conversation feels...

“It’s fine,” I hear myself say. “If they’re hungry anyway.”

“Great!” She’s already texting back. “Fair warning—they’re probably starving. Hockey players eat like teenage boys, regardless of age.”

A few minutes later, I see two familiar figures entering the restaurant. Brody I recognize from games, and beside him, looking unfairly good in team gear with damp hair from the rain, Dex.

“Ladies,” Brody grins, bending to kiss Elliot’s cheek. “Thanks for letting us crash your lunch.”

“As if I had a choice,” Elliot says dryly. “You two are like stray cats—feed them once and they never leave.”

“You must be Golda,” Brody extends his hand as Dex pulls out the chair beside me. “I’ve heard great things about you from Tyson. Kid’s got real potential.”

“He’s been working hard,” I manage, hyperaware of Dex settling beside me. “Coach Malone has been very patient with his learning curve.”

“Just Dex,” he says, and when I look at him, his smile seems less practiced than usual. “How’s he doing with those backward crossovers? He was determined to master them.”

“Practicing constantly. Our driveway looks like a war zone.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” Dex laughs, and the sound is genuinely warm. “Means he’s got the bug.”

“Speaking of bugs,” Brody grins, “did I ever tell you about my rookie year initiation? Veterans convinced me I had to ‘season’ my new gloves by sleeping with them under my pillow for a week.”

“Please tell me you didn’t,” I laugh.

“Oh, I absolutely did. Woke up every morning smelling like a locker room.” He shakes his head. “Took me three weeks to figure out they were messing with me.”

“That’s nothing,” Dex adds, leaning forward. “They told Rodriguez he had to eat a peanut butter sandwich before every game for ‘energy balance.’ Kid did it for two months before he realized the veterans were just trying to see how long he’d believe them.”

“The hazing stories get worse every year,” Elliot observes. “Remember the one about the helmet blessing ceremony?”

“Don’t,” Brody warns, but he’s grinning.

“They convinced this poor rookie that his helmet needed to be blessed by the Zamboni driver before he could wear it in a game,” Elliot continues. “Had him standing in the tunnel for twenty minutes waiting for some mystical equipment ceremony.”

I’m laughing despite myself. “Do you all just make up elaborate lies for new players?”

“It’s tradition,” Dex says, and I notice how his eyes light up when I laugh. “Character building.”

“Torture,” Brody corrects. “But entertaining torture.”

“Speaking of entertaining,” Elliot says with a casual tone that immediately puts me on alert, “Golda was just telling me about her audiobook work. Romance novels, specifically.”

Dex goes very still beside me. “Oh. That’s... interesting.”

“Isn’t it?” Elliot’s smile is absolutely innocent. “I was just thinking how you’ve developed such an appreciation for literature lately. Always asking about books and... what was it you called it? ‘Quality voice work’?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dex says quickly, but there’s a slight flush creeping up his neck.

“Really? Because just yesterday you were telling Brody about audiobooks. Something about how they help with insomnia?”

Brody shoots Elliot a look that clearly says ‘what are you doing?’ but she’s on a roll now.

“What’s the most challenging part of narrating romance novels?” she asks me, completely ignoring Dex’s obvious discomfort. “All those... intimate scenes must be interesting to perform professionally.”

“It’s just about maintaining consistency,” I say, though I notice Dex has suddenly become very interested in his water glass. “Staying in character regardless of content.”

“Fascinating,” Elliot muses. “Dex, didn’t you just mention how much you appreciate that kind of professional skill? Voice actors who can make any material sound... compelling?”

“Did I?” Dex’s voice cracks slightly.

“You absolutely did. In fact, I think your exact words were something about how a good narrator can make even the most ridiculous story seem believable.”

I’m starting to feel like I’m missing something important. “Do you listen to audiobooks, Dex?”

“Sometimes,” he says carefully. “For... relaxation.”

“What genre do you prefer?” I ask, genuinely curious now.

The silence stretches just a beat too long. Brody is now actively trying not to laugh, while Elliot looks like a kid in a candy store.

“Oh, you know,” Dex says finally. “Various... genres.”

“Historical fiction is popular,” Elliot supplies helpfully. “Lots of demand for that. And romance, obviously. Dex was just saying how romance has become quite the trend lately. Weren’t you, Dex?”

“Was I?”

“You absolutely were. Very enthusiastic about it, actually.”

I look between them. “Is this some kind of inside joke?”

“Not at all,” Elliot says with wide-eyed innocence. “Just making conversation about shared interests.”

“Shared interests?” I repeat.

“Well, you narrate audiobooks, and Dex here has recently developed quite the... appreciation for them. It’s like fate.”

Dex looks like he wants to crawl under the table. Brody has given up trying to intervene and is just watching whatever disaster this is unfold with morbid fascination.

“What kind of audiobooks do you listen to?” I ask Dex directly, because something about this conversation feels deliberately weird.

“Just... you know. Stories. With good... narration.”

“Stories about what?”