Page 3

CHAPTER 3

ANNA

I step inside the elevator, waiting for the doors to slide shut and shake my head back and forth, in shock. Look, I’m not daft but I’m also not a proud woman; I can admit that for some reason today, of all days, I looked at Ollie and something inside me hiccuped. Less hiccup, and more glitch, really. Yes, I looked at Ollie and if there was ever a glitch in my matrix, well it happened today.

He seems different. Not different, like it’s off-putting but different in a makeover kind of way…I think?

Even as the words echo in my head, I know it’s more than that. It’s not like I was looking to see the flex of his thighs as he pushed off on the ice, but rather that his thighs obviously wanted me to see them because––wow.

Just…wow.

I’ve noticed the beefing up. Of course I have, he’s playing hockey. He’s been at it for a while now, and he’s going to get more muscles and be all HOT and stuff. But…when did my sweet old friend Ollie Decker glow up?

The elevator doors finally close, and once they do, I hit the button with PH labeled on it at the top of the number console. Good. I need a few minutes to clear my head of hot thighs and rippling biceps before I get to my floor. This button will deliver me straight into the reception area of the Penthouse, otherwise known as the home of the Ivory Tower.

The suites and executive offices for the Renegades are located on the top floor of the building that’s directly attached to the arena. It’s a sleek, modern structure with glass walls overlooking the ice, and all of the hustle and bustle below. The building’s got a polished, corporate vibe that makes you feel like everyone inside it is important, even if they aren’t.

The floor is split into two wings. On one side, you’ve got the General Manager’s office—glass walls, of course—along with shared offices for the assistant coaches. There’s a huge lobby in the middle, designed for the team and anyone who might need to hang around before or after meetings. It’s all white marble, leather furniture, and high ceilings, making the whole space feel impressive and intimidating at the same time. It’s fun with a relaxed feel, and during regular working hours it hums with activity and employees. I like this side.

Then there’s the other wing, where the owners’ offices are located. It’s a little more private, a little more exclusive, and a lot more stuffy. They’ve got a couple of hot desks in there, too, for anyone who’s working remotely or needs a temporary office—like their contracted PR team, the lawyers, or accountants. It’s all very flexible, depending on who needs to use it at any given moment. Honestly, the whole thing screams power—probably more than it should, considering we’re just a hockey team, but it’s how the owners like it.

Today, when I exit the elevator, I go right. That’s the side where the owners’ offices are and it’s not my favorite side. Ivory Tower and all that jazz.

The hallway is darker than usual today. The lights are off, which would be normal since no one is here this late, at least not on this side. The fact that anyone is still around this part of the office fully surprises me. I’d think about it more, because I love to overthink things, except my dad is also fighting for center stage in my thoughts at this very second.

Even in the midst of the banter with the guys, all I could think about was my dad and how upset he is. It would have been hard for him to be as vulnerable as he was, but I’m glad he did it.

“Now, I need to help him find a way out,” I sigh quietly to myself, staying the course with the owners’ office drawing nearer. In fact, once I’m less than a few feet away I start to hear the low rumble of voices talking in the room beyond.

“It’s about brand deals, Jimmy,” a sharp female voice says. “If we get more deals for these guys, then the Renegades are getting more exposure. They have more of a presence, which is good for the team and for ticket sales.”

“But will it get us more sponsors?” I recognize the voice of James “Jimmy” Mahoney, the current co-owner of the Renegades. The Mahoney family has been around River City for as long as I can remember; I guess they would be what you call an institution here.

The Mahoneys have always been in the business of building legacies. They own half a block downtown, a mix of restaurants, bars, and the kind of high-end condos that make people whisper about their wealth. I swear I think half the town works for one of them or their businesses.

I stop just outside of the executive suite…not so much to eavesdrop, even though this is a great place to do it, but so I can choose a time to enter when it feels more nonchalant and not like I’m interrupting.

Okay, it’s so I can eavesdrop. But just a little bit.

“Why are you asking about that, Jimmy?” A voice I know, and know well, pipes up. “We’ve got enough coming in from sponsors now. Do we need more?”

Sutton Mahoney is Jimmy’s younger, and in my opinion, much smarter, wiser, and kinder sister. When their father, James Mahoney Senior, retired and stepped away from his duties last year, these two were assigned co-ownership of the team, along with another brother, Gavin. Gavin is the silent partner for now. Where Jimmy likes to act like he’s a big guy and be the man about River City, Gavin is happiest volunteering his time helping build schools in remote areas of the world. Sutton, in my opinion, is the peacemaker. She balances the team and knows it best. But that’s just my two cents.

And not all hockey teams have hands-on owners. In fact, the Renegades rarely saw Jim Senior…Oh, I take that back—they saw him when it counted. He would show up for all the games, was in the locker room win or lose, and always had a nice word to say about everyone in the arena and on his staff. I’ve not only witnessed it myself, but my Dad and Ben have both waxed poetic about how Jim Senior was the last of the good guys when he retired.

Needless to say, Jimmy is not his father. He is the apple that not only fell far from the tree, but was kicked down the hill, crossed a highway, and then rolled into the gutter.

“We can always use more money,” he snaps. “We need to always be seen out and about in River City. I want these guys doing charity events, slinging hash if they need to on a commercial, showing up for a ribbon cutting?—”

“Winning games, but also making it to practice, taking care of themselves, physically and mentally,” the voice of reason interrupts. Sutton is such a straight shooter and I dig it. “You need to stop trying to make some kind of statement about yourself as a co-owner, Jimmy, and just let these guys do what they do best. We hired them to play hockey.”

Sensing a lull in the conversation, I take my chances and step inside the doorway. Surveying the room, I find Jimmy, Sutton, and the mystery guest, who is their publicist, Lara Nearers. Coach and I like to call her Smoke and Mirrors. She’s always looking for a way to spin something or do a pivot in the press, and honestly, it’s exhausting.

“I think what Jimmy’s saying,” Lara says, “is that if we can get these guys doing more promotional work, we can also help line their pockets, too.”

“These guys are not actors or models.” Sutton stares at the ground, shaking her head. “I know it sounds stupid, but they’re special, they know how to do something on the ice that none of us in the room can. Why do we want or need to push them to do more, parading them out and making them be on display? Not everyone is made to do promos.”

My dad, Coach, and even the guys on the team have been talking about Sutton and their respect for her on a daily basis since she stepped up. She’s the fierce one, the one sibling who should run the show on her own. Rumor has it Jimmy isn’t capable, but his dad has put him in charge since Gavin is out of the country, so…I guess we’ll see. My vote is that Sutton runs it on her own, but what do I know? I’m just a girl who watched Ted Lasso and developed a heck of a girl crush on Hannah Waddington.

The sound of someone clearing their throat takes me out of my zone. I look across the room to find Sutton staring at me with a quizzical, but amused, expression on her face. I hold up the folder in my hands and wave it.

“Sorry to bust in on your meeting,” I say as I take a step toward the trio. “Ben asked me to bring these papers by and said you’d be expecting them.”

“Thanks, Anna,” Jimmy says, pointing to a smaller table across the room with several stacks of folders on top of it already. “Can you put it there and let Ben know I’ll look it over and get back to him this week?”

I do what he asks, noting the inflection in his tone. Does he also find it ironic that the coach of his team won’t step into his offices to deal with him because he has no respect for him? While the publicist doesn’t bother with taking the time to acknowledge me, Sutton grins and stands, walking my way with arms outstretched.

“It’s been a while,” she says, wrapping her arms around me and treating me to a big hug. “How are you? How’s your dad?”

Sutton and I go way back—way, way back. She’s a few years older than me, but we’ve always had this easy connection. When I was younger, she used to babysit me, and for a few years, I’d say she was like the big sister I never had. She’d take me to the movies, talk me through all the teenage drama I thought was the end of the world, and somehow made everything feel less complicated. She’s always had this effortless charm, a kind of grace that makes everything she does seem so much cooler than it really is. Even when she was just hanging out with me on the couch, watching cartoons and pretending she didn’t care that I was asking about her dating life and what her favorite movies were, you knew she was destined for something bigger.

Now, she’s the city’s golden girl, the co-owner of the Renegades. Under her leadership, not so much Jimmy’s, in my honest opinion, they’ve begun turning the franchise into a powerhouse—not just on the ice but off it, too. She’s the one who is creative and sees things as a bigger picture, or at least that’s what I hear. It’s crazy to think about how far she’s come, but she still has that down-to-earth vibe that makes you feel like you’re talking to the same Sutton who was helping me with my math homework years ago.

“He’s good,” I straight-up lie through my teeth. “At home, feet up, relaxing. I’ve got specific instructions to stop by Two Scoops Creamery on the way home and pick him up a brownie sundae with the works.”

“My favorite, too,” she says. “I feel so disconnected, traveling too much lately. But I’m in town now and not planning on going anywhere. I’d love to get caught up, hear about life in the fast lane as Ben’s personal assistant.”

“It’s glamorous. I bought the diapers for the kids this week,” I say dramatically, punctuating it with a wink.

She giggles. “We’ll make a plan.” She looks back across the room where Jimmy sits with his head pressed close to the publicist before she turns her attention back to me, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I need to keep an eye on Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over here for a bit.”

I choke back a laugh but nod in understanding. “See you soon.”

“Anna, before you leave, can you look at this file Ben emailed?” Jimmy calls out as he waves a hand at his laptop. “I’ve tried but I can’t get the attachment to open for the life of me.”

Sometimes being a tech genius is part of the job when you’re an assistant. Comical, especially as I was searching on YouTube earlier for how to boil eggs. No judgment needed, it’s an art.

“Sure thing.” I stride over to his desk and settle in behind it as Jimmy turns his back to me. Sutton glances over and mouths thank you . Would it be nice if Jimmy said it? Sure, but now I get to sit in here and listen to him puff out more hot air, which means I don’t need to think about my own problems or the hurt I have for my dad right now, so it’s kind of entertaining.

“So, where were we…” Jimmy picks up the conversation again and snaps his fingers. “Oh, yep. Ambassadors and that stuff. Sutton, Lara, and I have compiled a list of players who are already excelling in this area, as well as a list of the ones who need to do more, in my opinion.”

“Oh?” Judging by the tone of Sutton’s voice, this is a surprise. I glance up as Lara the Queen of Public Relations hands her a piece of paper.

“Simple, really. Two lists: guys who are doing it right, and then the ones on the other list are the guys who need a little help. Or a nudge.” She leans over the paper, indicating something on it for Sutton to see. “If we start at the top, you’ll see I’ve listed suggested pairings for those players that I can try to arrange. A complimentary business we can approach about partnership. Exclusivity, brand deal, all of it.”

I turn the computer slightly to an angle where I can see better. At least from behind Jimmy’s laptop it appears as if I’m busy staring at the screen and not at these three.

Sutton’s brow furrows as she casts her eyes across the document. “You've only got five names on here. Two are injured and three of them are not only excellent players, but exceptional. Honestly, I’d rather have them practicing and taking care of themselves than worrying about getting a sponsorship deal.”

“Sutton.” Lara’s voice sounds exasperated. I don’t know Lara, but I do know Sutton, and when Sutton’s face twists at the tone Lara serves, I bite back a grin. “It’s not just about sponsorship, it’s also about lifting profiles. These three may not be signed with a business or product, yet, but if we lift their profiles I can almost guarantee they will be.”

“I’m so confused when you say you can ‘almost’ guarantee. A guarantee should be just that.” Sutton’s Southern drawl comes shining through. It always does when she’s getting serious. “Let’s look at the first name on here, Leon Tully.”

“Leon needs to appear at some local events, maybe a store opening, I don’t know. I’ll find ways to get him in the press so it feels natural,” Lara says. “Like he’s suddenly everywhere and anywhere, all at once.”

“It’s about taking the guys who are naturals at it and putting them in the right places,” Jimmy adds. “Lara and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

I glance their way once more, only to find Sutton looking at me as she rolls her eyes.

“I’m so glad you and Lara have thought it through,” she says, sarcasm only slightly evident for those of us in the know, which you would think Jimmy would be, but by now I’ve figured him out. He’s working hard to impress this Lara lady, and it feels like Sutton’s getting the brunt end of it.

“We really have,” Lara says, nodding in agreement like a puppet next to Jimmy. “And someone like Sawyer Stockton is a natural, and since he’s dating that popstar…”

“Carly Lane,” Sutton says under her breath.

“Yes, Carly Lane, it really helps.”

The update flashes that it’s done on the screen, and the file Jimmy needed has opened, but I keep tapping away. He doesn’t know it’s finished and he doesn’t need to. There’s no way I’m leaving this convo, not yet anyway.

“Relationships like that we need to work with and nurture,” Lara adds on.

“She’s right,” Jimmy says, pacing the floor. “Having his girlfriend be high profile gets the two of them more time in the press. When she comes to the arena for games, we always have more people and press show up, too. And, I see them on his off days on social media all the time.”

“Because I sent you the posts.” Lara giggles. You’d have to be ridiculously stupid to not see the lingering glance that happens between these two as she says it, and my gut instinct kicks me hard. I’m not liking what I’m sensing here. “It’s like having our own Travis and Taylor love story, isn’t it?”

“Okay,” Sutton interjects loudly as she reaches for the glass of water in front of her. “Let’s keep going. You’ve got Ollie Decker’s name on here, too.”

My ears suddenly perk up, like an elf in one of the Lord of the Rings movies. My Ollie?

“We’re trying with him.” Lara nods. “He’s primed to be a great ‘face of,’” she says, bringing out the air quotes. “With Noah becoming an assistant coach, we have a hole to fill. Ollie is straight-up sexy, he’s beloved by the fans, and for once we have a player who comes with little to no baggage. He’s not been in a fight on or off the ice, he’s always on time if not early…the list goes on. We’ve got a choir boy on our hands, people, and we need to utilize him.”

Before I can stop the groan from escaping my lips, it does. As the sound of it echoes in the room, I glance up to find Sutton trying not to laugh as Lara and Jimmy spin around to face me with arms crossed.

“You have something to say?” Jimmy asks.

Things you don’t do as a personal assistant: make yourself known.

“No…uh, your computer is done.” I close the laptop and stand up, realizing my time has come to leave.

“You sure, Anna?” Sutton asks, nodding my way. “If you have a thought about what we’re talking about, share it.”

“Who is she?” Lara asks.

Sutton purses her lips as she gazes upon Lara with a look like one would give a gnat who is circling a fruit bowl. Total irritation. “Ben’s assistant. Probably one of the only people, besides Ben, who knows those guys well enough to weigh in on what they will and won’t do.”

She turns back to me and cocks her head to one side and waves a hand in the air as if she were magically opening a door. “Seriously, Anna, if you have insight for us around this convo, we’re all ears. Share.”

I don’t want to stay here, even if it is Sutton who’s asking me to, but I don’t like that Ollie’s name has popped up as someone who isn’t fulfilling a duty. And I won’t let him get thrown under the bus. I’ve known him forever. At River City High, we’d hung out with a large group of about ten to twelve that whittled down to just us, and we made it a point over the years to stay close. Then after being separated for the time we were at college, we’d managed to pick up like it was nothing when we saw each other again. We have the kind of history and a kind of bonding you don’t forget.

“While what you’re saying makes sense, you need to also approach this smartly, right?” When all three heads bob in agreement, I continue. “I know you want to leverage these guys, while also helping them to be entities themselves, but not everyone needs to be thrust into a sponsorship deal because not all of their personalities will allow for it. Like Sawyer.”

“Sawyer’s partner is a pop star, so that helps,” Lara says, her condescending tone not lost on me.

“Right. Thing One isn’t good at promotions or a commercial, he’s better with a staged photo op and no words.” I look pointedly at Lara. “So of course he’s at his best with a famous girlfriend on his arm. If she wasn’t there, you’d be looking for another way to get him in front of the cameras. But it’s authentic, a natural fit at the moment, so it works.”

Sutton’s head nods as I speak. “Makes sense to me. Especially authenticity. More people want that in the face of AI and all of the social media influence going on out there.”

“Exactly,” I say, clapping my hands together. “So why not look at someone like Ollie, for example, and get him involved in something that’s a more natural fit and works for his strengths. Local commercials, appearances. Easy things to get him started out. He can be the face just without the pressure as he gets used to it.”

“He’s a hard sell because we need to soften him for the public,” Lara muses, grabbing Jimmy’s arm. “I know. We could get him a makeover, get him a new wardrobe with a stylist helping, do something with his hair…”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” I gesture broadly, trying to get my point across. “Yes, he needs to be softened, but Ollie’s got a down-to-earth, everyman vibe. He is relatable and approachable. People love that! You don’t have to shove him into some big sponsorship deal. Start small—something like…”

I pause, searching for the right words, wanting to help my friend when Lara blurts out, “Like a fake relationship!”

“A fake relationship?” Sutton echoes, one eyebrow arching.

“Yes, we mimic what Sawyer has but sans popstar.” Lara nods as Jimmy’s eyes light up. “Like one of those red carpet pairings they do in Hollywood. We’ll have him dating someone. The big giant dating a sweet, little thing? How adorable would that be?”

I walk across the room and grab my messenger bag, pulling it over my head as I shake it. Somehow things have gone from zero to a hundred in no time flat. “Not necessarily what I was going for. I mean, Ollie likes coffee so I’m thinking a local coffee shop is a good place to start.”

“You already have one couple in the spotlight,” Sutton says, her voice sharp. “Why do we need another?”

“It’s an easy lift, low-hanging fruit,” Lara responds. “If it’s the right person.”

None of this is going how it should and I’m already regretting opening my mouth. Ollie is going to kill me if these guys force him to date someone just to make him seem more relatable. It’s just not him.

“You know,” Lara continues, snapping her fingers as she stands up. “Why can’t we have a love story of some kind for someone like Ollie? It would thaw even the iciest of hearts to see our giant, tough, manly defenseman fall in love in front of the city, more so than a perfectly packaged couple—or a perfectly put-together Ollie.”

Sutton’s jaw goes slack. “But it means Ollie would have to find a girlfriend. Now.”

“As long as they’re likeable, relatable, and an everywoman,” I add to the melee.

“Yes,” Lara says, wagging a finger in the air. “For Ollie.”

“Do you think he’ll be open to the idea?” Jimmy asks no one.

“Probably not,” I say as I reach the door, holding in a gargantuan laugh. “I’m only using him as an example, anyway. This idea might be better suited for someone else, not Ollie. He’s too nice and has a heart of gold. He’s the type who wouldn’t want to fake anything.”

When I hear the words come out of my mouth, I’m surprised at how protective I’m feeling of my friend, but of course I would be. He’d do the same for me. It’s how we roll.

“If it’s just for a little while, he could,” Lara says, brushing off my comment without a second thought.

“We’ll find him someone who is a good strong fit, throw them together for a bit, and then they ‘break up’ once his profile’s where we need it or on a proper trajectory,” Lara says as Jimmy nods in agreement, and my stomach churns.

This is exactly the part of publicity that makes me want to scream. The calculated moves, the packaging of real people into fake stories—it’s so cold, so transactional.

“Okay, well, it sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” I say, forcing a smile that feels like it’s cracking at the edges. “So I’ll leave you to it.”

I open the door, the conversation already weighing on my shoulders as I step out.

“Thanks for the input, Anna!” Jimmy calls, and I resist the urge to slam the door behind me.

As I walk down the hallway, the buzzing fluorescent lights above seem to amplify the storm brewing in my head. What started as a simple pitch from your local busybody assistant attempting to help, has spiraled into something I can’t control.

I tried to steer them away from Ollie. I really did. But I might as well have handed them a blueprint. They’ll run with it now.

And Ollie? He’ll never see this coming.

I stop in the middle of the hallway, my chest tight as the weight of it all sinks in.

What have I done?