Page 4 of Dumping the Puck (Men of Havoc #4)
While checking out with my own luggage and clothes, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see Charley’s name flash across the screen.
“Hey Charley, tell me some good news.”
“I just want to say, I deserve a raise. A good one. Also, you better call Hamlin, you’re supposed to be back in a few days and I’m assuming you won’t be,” she reprimands me.
Shit. I didn’t think ahead this far. I’m in deep shit with Coach for disappearing an entire week of pre-season games. He’ll be my next call.
“I’ll handle it. Tell me the good news that means you deserve a raise.”
“I got you booked on a private jet, leaving in an hour—”
“A private jet? Jesus Charley, when I said no budget, I meant commercial airline no budget, not private jet no budget.” I scrub my hands over my face, this is going to fucking cost me.
“Listen, are you going to interrupt me every time I answer you? You said no budget, make it happen . I made shit happen.”
“Sorry, Charley.”
“As I was saying, the jet is leaving in an hour, the original passengers bailed so since they have already paid most of it, my friend is willing to do this for the same cost as the commercial flights. I booked you a private villa, at Suite Principessina, you’ll have a private balcony and sea access. Very romantic. I’ll email you the itinerary that I planned for you. Now say, Thank you, Charley. You’re the best assistant I’ll ever have and you get a big fat bonus for dealing with Hamlin and last minute travel. ”
“I’ll deal with Hamlin, just tell him that you haven’t heard from me.” I purposefully don’t repeat after her to get under her skin. Even though she is the best assistant I’ve ever had.
“You’re a dick. Check your email, and don’t get your brother’s ex-fiancee pregnant. Keep it wrapped.” She ends the phone call without any other words to me.
If I hadn’t met Wren as a kid, I’d probably have screwed up my working relationship with Charley. She’s one of a kind, and holds her own against the other players she works for on the team, especially when we get a new rookie who thinks their shit doesn’t stink because they got into the NHL.
Waiting for Wren to complete her selections, I motion to her that I’m stepping out to make a phone call.
Dread takes over. I’m about to lie to Coach. I fucking hate that. I don’t want to lie to him.
“Hamlin.” He answers like he works on Wall Street instead of knowing that it’s me because he has my damn number saved.
“Coach. It’s Kayce.”
“Yup. I know who y’are. Don’t know what ya want or why you’re interrupting my evening.”
“Sorry. I have a family emergency. I’m going to need to miss a few more days.” I blurt out quickly.
“How many? I can give ya one or two days but you need to be back for the pre-season games. I can’t fight the big wigs on that.” I can hear the stress creeping into his voice.
“I need a week.”
“No. Nope. Can’t do it —”
“Coach. Please. It’s an emergency. I can’t leave.”
He sighs so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Fine. But you’ll be back in one week. And you better have a good fucking reason to be putting me in this position with Terry.”
“Thanks Coach. I really appreciate it. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
He mumbles about not being able to enjoy it when I fucked it up as he ends the call.
I let out a sigh of relief. Now I just need to spin a lie about this family emergency that isn’t me going on a honeymoon to the Amalfi Coast with my brother’s ex-fiancée.