Page 18 of How to Puck Your Boss (L.A. Hawks Hockey #3)

Chapter Eleven

Had Jack waved to her earlier?

Did people still do that? Wave instead of texting? And if he waved, was it at her? Because she had ignored him for the past week, and the last time they’d talked, he had been in a whining mood, not a waving mood.

But he had been looking at her, right? It was ridiculous, but she thought she had felt his gaze on her even from that distance and through his visor.

“I’m twenty-six, I’m allowed to drink beer! Oh, my goodness, but yes, check my ID.”

Blinking, Penny returned to the present and glanced up at her companion as he presented his ID to the waitress, his face a bright red that matched the color of his carrot hair.

In the waitress’ defense, Freddie Cravitz, personal assistant to General Manager Thomas Lyle, did look young.

And that was coming from her! When he’d spoken to her in the VIP lounge during the game, she briefly thought that one of the investors had brought his son.

When he had introduced himself as the General Manager’s right-hand man, she had thrown her head back in laughter, confusing the poor guy beyond belief.

Then she had hastily explained that something on the ice had made her laugh before returning his handshake.

As Penny quickly discovered, Freddie’s unassuming appearance was deceptive. He was in fact a complete hockey nerd – actually, a nerd in general. He did not hide this well with his Game of Thrones t-shirt and Iron Man Velcro wallet — neither of which made him seem any more mature.

However, Thomas Lyle had hired him for his brains, not his demeanor, which would have made Penny feel almost sympathetic for the general manager if he hadn’t been such a rude jerk to her.

“I’ll take a Laphroaig Select whiskey,” Penny said, smiling at the waitress. She had earned after, upon congratulating a bunch of players on their win, they’d asked if she’d enjoyed the champagne and if the chill of it had bothered her after her foray in South America.

The PR department had assured her that her father always watched from the VIP box — but, apparently, the players had different standards when it came to her. Gareth, at least, hadn’t received any stupid comments about expensive alcohol, as far as she knew.

“It’s the same every time,” Cravitz complained grumpily. “They always ask for my ID! Even when I’m with people who are obviously over thirty.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It happens to me a lot too,” Penny said, refraining from informing him that men with Daenerys, the Mother of Dragons, on their shirts generally had a harder time in a Michelin-starred restaurant than others. Unfair, but true.

“Yeah, but you’re not wearing makeup and you’re wearing clothes that…” He snapped his mouth shut and blushed. “Sorry. That was inappropriate.”

She laughed. “I prefer honest and inappropriate to dishonest and polite,” she confessed.

“And I know I could do more to stop looking so young, but do you know how hard it is to take makeup off? I grew accustomed to not using it in the South American heat because the stuff would have turned to goo, anyway. And it’s hard to break old habits. ”

Freddie smiled, even if it was a little embarrassed. “I like the way you dress. It’s less intimidating.”

Yes, maybe that was the problem – that she didn’t intimidate the players like Gareth did…well, Gareth intimidated everyone as a matter of course.

She sighed heavily and peered past Freddie into the room full of Hawks players. She didn’t know how they managed it, but everyone seemed to be sitting with their backs to her. No, not everyone. There was one…

She glanced away and helped herself to a roll from the basket. “I don’t like to use it to my advantage to scare people,” she said, shrugging.

“Hm.” Freddie looked at her skeptically. “You’re different from all the rich guys in the world. I like it.”

Oh, she liked Freddie. He was sometimes pompous and liked to make himself seem important by throwing around big numbers, but at least he was nice!

She couldn’t really expect a dinner invitation from the players, after all.

The only consolation was that Gareth hadn’t received one, either.

But he had gone directly to his room to make some important phone calls and probably fire a few more people.

A few of the players who had finished eating walked in her direction. Penny smiled at them…and was rigorously ignored.

She sighed. Everyone was being oh so very grown-up. It wasn’t her fault that her father had arranged this silly competition.

“They were probably distracted by the pretty women at the bar,” Freddie said diplomatically, squinting to the right so that it was undoubtedly clear who was distracted by the pretty women.

“No,” Penny replied lightly. “The players just don’t like me much. They think I know nothing about hockey and will ruin the team.”

“Oh, they don’t like me either, so that’s nothing special.” Freddie’s ears turned red. “And they don’t think I know anything about hockey. They think I’m a wimp.”

Penny choked on her water and coughed loudly into her hand. “Oh, come on,” she said quickly, waving it off, “I’m sure…”

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard Leon Alvarez call me that several times,” Freddie interrupted grumpily. “And he didn’t even bother to lower his voice.”

“Leon Alvarez is a complete idiot,” she said cheerfully, waving it off.

Funnily enough, Leon was the guy who was haunting her mind, too, among other things – such as Jack, who was haunting her on, under, and all over her entire body.

“Anyway, I was wondering, Freddie, has Leon always been a defender?”

“What?” He glanced up in surprise. “Yeah, yeah, he was drafted as one straight out of college. He has been playing defense since he was a kid, why?”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly, adjusting her napkin.

She had that usual tingling feeling in her chest when she finalized a statistic and had a clear result in front of her.

Leon Alvarez had scored a goal, assisted another, and was much further ahead than the other defenders 54 percent of the time.

And there were his other stats, which she knew by heart! She knew them all by heart.

“Actually, we shouldn’t be talking about defenders but strikers,” Freddie said. “Has Thomas told you that he’s looking for a new one?”

She frowned. “No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Oh. He said he had been…” Freddie broke off.

Penny sighed. “Discussing it with Clark?” she finished his sentence. “He probably meant my brother.” Who hadn’t told her about it either. Fantastic. “So, a new striker,” she stated.

“Yep, right now we’re looking at Devreaux and Anderson.”

“They’re under contract with the Predators and the Whales, right?”

“Yes.” Freddie raised his eyebrows in surprise, but she had to give him credit for trying to banish that expression from his face as quickly as possible.

“Hm. Anderson played with Jack…West. With West,” she said, clearing her throat quickly. “That could be advantageous, of course, but… Well, what about defenders? Are we looking for them, too?”

Freddie laughed nervously. “What? You already hate Leon Alvarez so much that you want to get rid of him?”

“Nonsense. I was merely thinking that maybe we should restructure the team before bringing on a new player.”

“What?” Lyle’s assistant stared at her blankly.

She was impressed that Freddie didn’t immediately flip her off, even though his hand twitched.

“Um. You can’t just restructure,” he said slowly, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “But if you really wanted Leon gone, I’m sure we could talk about it.” He cleared his throat when their drinks arrived. “I don’t want to dismiss your ideas outright…but um…”

A sudden wave of platonic affection washed over her.

Of all the men within the Hawks organization, Freddie was the only one who showed her any kindness or respect.

“Freddie? Thank you for being here,” she said solemnly, impulsively squeezing his hand on the table.

“And God, no, I don’t want to get rid of Leon.

He’s an idiot, but I know how to separate personal from business. ”

“Do you?”

She flinched at the voice coming from her right because it flowed warmly down her neck before settling in her chest, alerting her immediately to who was standing next to her.

Her whole body went on alert while the monkey in her head clapped its cymbals together in joy. Still, she tried to put on a neutral expression as she glanced up at Jack’s face. “Excuse me?”

That was how someone who hadn’t slept with him would react, right?

“Well, this looks cozy,” he said tonelessly as his gaze wandered to her hand, which was still resting on Freddie’s.

She hastily pulled it off the table. “Oh, it’s okay. The chairs are incredibly hard for such an expensive restaurant,” she said, adopting a friendly but distant tone. “Anyway, nice game tonight.”

“The chairs are really hard,” Dax Temple agreed, standing next to Jack. “Bad when you have a lot of bruises.”

Yes, she understood, since he had taken on two players at once, out on the ice.

“Hello,” Freddie said, smiling and rising from his chair before reaching to shake Jack’s hand. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet.”

Jack glanced at his face, his hand, and then back at his face. “No,” he agreed but made no move to take his hand.

Ashamed, Freddie lowered it. “I’m Frederic Cravitz.”

“He knows that,” Temple said, looking at his colleague with irritation. Apparently, he was surprised that he was such an asshole, which Penny didn’t understand at all since he had been one the last time they met. “Freddie, we’re going out with the others. Do you want to come?”

Lyle’s assistant looked at Penny and opened his mouth but apparently didn’t know what to say. It was written all over his face that he wanted to go, since he wasn’t often asked.

“You should go,” she said instinctively, even if it meant she would have to eat alone. It didn’t appear that her presence was wanted. The other players who were conspicuously avoiding her gaze stood behind Temple, but that was okay. Surely, they didn’t want the owners…

“Clark is coming, too,” Matt announced, flanking Jack on the other side. “So?”

Penny pursed her lips. Of course. Perhaps it was a guys’ night out. They were probably going to a strip club. They were that unimaginative.

Her gaze wandered to Jack again, almost expecting him to avert his eyes. Instead, he met her gaze with slightly narrowed eyes and his brow forming a line. She would have given her father’s fortune to know what he was thinking.