Page 22 of How to Puck Your Boss (L.A. Hawks Hockey #3)

Chapter Thirteen

J ack was right: Dax kept quiet. Penny didn’t know what kind of relationship they had, but they didn’t seem to hate each other. Dax’s profile must have been out of date. Nevertheless, over the next few days, she received some sharp looks and a horde of curious and doubtful glances from the striker.

What the hell had Jack told him? That it had been a one-time thing and that there was nothing else between them?

That he hated that she had turned out to be his boss, because he would have liked to date her, maybe even be happy forever?

That she was a loon who had taken advantage of his moment of weakness?

She should have stayed and listened, but she panicked and was so embarrassed that she hadn’t even considered it.

God, she was such an idiot. She had let herself be carried away, by Jack’s looks, his words, his whole demeanor, which she had missed over the last few weeks.

It was absurd. They barely knew each other…

but she had the feeling that they had something in common.

It felt like there was more between them than the one-night stand.

It felt like there could be much more between them if they weren’t stuck in their stupid roles.

If they lived on a deserted island, for example.

But it was irrelevant. He was Jack West, the Hawks’ saintly top scorer. She couldn’t do anything with him…but she could take his words to heart.

Let them judge. You know who you are. They don’t .

So simple. So true.

If the others didn’t want to give her the chance to get to know them better, then she wouldn’t give them the chance to ignore her any longer.

So, when the upper management meeting about a new striker came up on Friday, three days after the inconvenient dirty talk in the hotel hall, she had not only prepared a plan, but also three pages of statistics about Leon Alvarez.

She put an indifferent, cold expression on her face.

She would do what any manager and CEO worth their salt would do: shout out her opinion as loudly as possible.

In preparation, if fact, she had not used her voice for half the day beforehand.

And when she heard Gareth’s booming voice at the end of the corridor, she was glad she had.

Her brother truly did have an enviably powerful voice, one that could keep up with any ship’s horn.

“…are you crazy ? You can’t possibly expect me to respond to this offer with anything other than laughter.”

“You can laugh? Have you finally trained your mouth like I showed you?”

“Hazel…” he growled.

Oh God, he was using his assassin’s voice. She should probably speed up her pace.

“I’m still Miss Barrow to you.”

“Hazel! Could you for once act like a human being, not some crazed banshee, and do your job properly? Moreau isn’t worth that ridiculous amount of money.”

“Excuse me?” a dark, gloomy voice cut in — it was goalie Moreau. “I’m the best damn goalie in the league.”

The woman sighed. “Moreau, please just keep on walking. I don’t need you here.”

“But this is about me,” he replied quietly.

“And I’m sure people talk about you all the time when you’re not around, so…”

“I’m staying,” he insisted. “Before you end up at each other’s throats. A dead team owner would be as bad for my contract as a dead agent.”

“Nobody here is going to kill anyone,” Gareth said, snorting.

“Speak for yourself.”

“Oh, dear God.” Her brother’s voice sounded so exasperated that Penny wondered if he’d already spent three hours roughhousing with a bunch of kindergarteners that morning. “You’re pissing me off, Hazel! If you can’t act like an adult, this conversation is pointless.”

“Good heavens, those words coming out of your mouth.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just strange that you can see no evil, speak no evil, when all you’re really called to do is hear no evil!”

“Hey, I was always told to keep my mouth shut before my ears.”

“You should learn to negotiate rationally instead of insulting the agent of one of your best players! Then again, you’ve never been good at negotiating, have you? That’s why you were always second to me at the university. You never understood the word compromise .”

“I negotiate with those who earn it. With those who act in good faith. We both know your suggestion is unreasonable and that you would have made a better offer to anyone else! You vindictive, caustic…”

“Hello, can I be of help here?” Penny hastily interrupted her brother. Nothing that might have followed those two words would have de-escalated the situation.

Three heads turned toward her: Lucas Moreau, Gareth…and a pretty, tall woman with killer high heels and straight black hair. She was vaguely familiar to Penny.

“Have you hired an assistant or what?” she asked, looking down at Penny skeptically.

Great. She had put on a black skirt and a high-necked blouse today to look more professional, but apparently, she still looked young and subservient.

Maybe the tiny lettuce heads printed on her top didn’t help, but Penny didn’t own any blouses without patterns – where was the fun in that?

– and she had hoped they looked like polka dots from a distance.

“That’s my sister,” Gareth replied abruptly. Moreau’s agent’s eyes grew so big, you could have served tea on them.

“Your sister?” she gasped. “What the hell? Well, I guess the Clarks deserve one good egg to make up for your rotten one.”

Oh, wow. She had never seen Gareth so red in the face.

If things didn’t work out with the Hawks, he could always get a job as a traffic cone.

But before he could open his mouth and say something that would surely be scandalously malicious, Penny took the last step into the room and offered the agent her hand.

“Hello, I’m Penelope Clark,” she said gently.

“You must be Hazel Barrow? You sent Moreau’s contract extension by email last week. ”

Penny had read the document. She didn’t know much about contracts, but she’d thought it wouldn’t hurt to glance over it.

“Yes,” her counterpart answered slowly and shook her hand. Then she cleared her throat and added, “I’m sorry, I thought you were his assistant.”

“No problem,” Penny replied lightly, though she appreciated the apology.

“My brother is obviously unable to express himself professionally... After reading your proposal, I think there are a few points that still need to be negotiated. Even if Gareth couldn’t communicate it at a normal volume, the increase in Mr. Moreau’s salary that you’re asking for is simply not proportionate — fifteen percent is too much.

Naturally, we want to keep him, but not when we could buy two new goalies with his bonus.

Lucas has been virtually injury-free for the last two years, but was absent for many months before that — and let’s be honest, with his grim looks and that assassin’s aura, he’ll be accidentally shot down in the street at some point. ”

Moreau’s eyebrows furrowed in irritation, making him appear a bit more threatening, but Hazel Barrow’s mouth threatened a smile.

“I agree with you on that point,” she admitted. “However, Moreau has fought his way back up and…”

“He’s back in top form, yes. But if you take his absences into account, he’s played fewer games on average.

And his knee occasionally still gives him trouble.

His stats are good, but not significantly better than they were three years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, I think we would be willing to increase his bonus slightly, but you have to meet us halfway. ”

Miss Barrow narrowed her eyes ever so slightly and examined Penny carefully.

Then she cast a quick glance at Gareth, who was grinding his teeth with his arms behind his back.

Finally, she stated calmly, “I like you, Penelope. You have more sense in your pinkie finger than your brother has in his whole body.”

Penny doubted that, since Gareth was the smartest person ever, but she kept that to herself.

“Okay, I’ll take another look at the contract and send it back at the end of the week. Come on, Moreau, we still need to discuss the advertising deal with Omega.”

“No. I said no watch manufacturers,” Moreau muttered, shaking his head . Then he turned his back on them and followed his agent down the hall. “Everyone always wants me to take off my shirt for ads. As if I wear my watch on my left nipple, not my left wrist.”

Penny’s snort was drowned out by someone clearing their throat, and when she turned, she looked straight into the face of Thomas Lyle, who was leaning in the doorway of the conference room.

“Are you finished?” he asked tensely. “We’re waiting in here.

” He nodded into the interior, where an embarrassed Freddie Cravitz and a skeptical-looking Coach Gray were standing.

He added softly, “It’s great that at least one of you can maintain a cool head and a friendly tone. ”

Heat rushed to Penny’s cheeks and something like pride filled her chest. “Thank you. Could I have a few moments with my brother? It won’t take long.”

“Sure,” Lyle replied curtly, giving Gareth a disapproving look before closing the door to the conference room.

Gareth let out a gust of air before rubbing his temples. He was visibly annoyed — but with himself or the situation? “Shit, that escalated quickly,” he stated dryly.

“You don’t say.” She looked at him, amused. For once, it was reassuring to see him not cool or collected. “Goodness, Gareth, you’re a cold-blooded businessman, not a seething volcano. What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad.”

She laughed. “If I hadn’t intervened, you might have started a boxing match. What did Miss Barrow do to you?”

“Nothing,” he said, but the words came out of his mouth so compressed, diamonds everywhere got jealous.

“Okay. So, what did you do to her?”

He sighed heavily. “I’ve known her for a while. We went to the same university.”