Page 8

CHAPTER 8

The Best Idea

KELLEN

Friday, September 28

M y chest burns as I bench press one and a half times my body weight. Harley is spotting me, and we’ll swap as soon as I’m done with my reps. I’m already sore from practice today, where Coach Jackson drilled us relentlessly to prepare for the season, which starts in less than two weeks.

I need to be top of my game in every way so there is no excuse to trade me, at least from a hockey perspective. That’s what I can focus on right now. Working out. Practices. Playing my best.

Not pissing off the team owner any more than I already have.

Paul and Savannah have been around the arena every day lately. He’s always been present more than most team owners, at least the ones I’ve experienced in my time in the NHL. Some might take it as a compliment that he’s so interested in how the team works… I find it annoying as hell to always feel like we’re performing for him.

I’m avoiding Savannah, and she gives me sad puppy dog eyes each time she sees me. She’s friendly with the VP of finance—I wish she’d focus more on uncontroversial friendships like that one.

“Listen up!” Coach Jackson strides to the middle of the weights area, where a dozen of my teammates are in various states of lifting.

I sit on a nearby bench, rotating my wrists, appreciating the creaky stretch.

“We had a great practice today, and a strong showing at the pre-season games last week. But pre-season is literally only the beginning. We need to focus on our individual conditioning and executing our new plays.”

“We got it Coach,” one of the players calls.

There’s a rush of air at my back and we all turn to the entrance to the gym.

Paul Harrison strides confidently to the middle of the room, dressed in an expensive-looking tailored gray suit. The mood of the room tenses.

“Excuse me, Coach Jackson, I just want to say a few words. First, encouragement. Keep working hard. This is a strong team, but you need to really bring it to every single practice, workout, and especially games. I expect a lot of you all.”

Heads nod all around the room.

Paul keeps talking about focus, but my mind wanders. Of course we’re all working our hardest. We need to earn our salaries and keep working, improving, winning.

“Second, we need to keep the reputation of this team top notch. Our PR team is working on that, so make sure you make cooperation with them a priority.”

Cooperate with Lucy Knox? She’s already emailed me asking if I want to set up media training. I haven’t responded yet, because while I’d like to spend time with her, I’ve been to endless media training sessions, and I can do it all over email.

I’m staring at the mat with my hands clasped between my knees when the room quiets, and I feel eyes on me. I look up, and Paul’s staring directly at me.

“Are we clear? ”

There are murmurs of agreement from around the room and I nod my head.

“Mr. Bassey? Will you step outside with me for a moment?”

My muscles tense, and I go into fighting mode. All eyes are on us as I stand and follow Paul as he strides out of the locker room, through the doors and into the hallway.

He stops and spins toward me.

“Will you be cooperative with the PR team?” Paul says it like an accusation. One I don’t deserve.

“Of course.” My chest tightens. I don’t need any added attention from Paul Harrison. But that’s exactly what I’m getting. There’s no reason for him to target me on this topic. I’ve been nothing but cooperative with PR.

This is only because of that photo with his wife.

Paul’s hard eyes drill into me.

“Cooperate with PR. Have the best season of your life. And no bad press. Or any press, preferably, unless it’s about the record number of goals you’ve scored.” He spits the words out.

I breathe in deeply. I want to punch this guy. Shove him into the wall and see him bounce off it and onto the floor like what happens on the ice.

“Because your job depends on it.”

I clench my fists at my sides and swallow. Paul’s words sink into every cell of my body.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Harrison.”

He stares at me for another moment. Maybe we should just talk about this directly. I could explain to him that there is nothing between me and Savannah. That she was just talking about her career plans. How she wishes he was more supportive?—

I hear the conversation in my head. Yeah. It wouldn’t go over well.

“Good. Then get back to it.” Paul walks down the hall toward the executive hallway, and I’ve lost my chance.

Shit .

I honestly wondered if maybe I was imagining him hating me. At least hating me more than the others. For a NHL team owner, he doesn’t seem to enjoy hockey or hockey players or anything about the process. It’s all business for him. Which, I suppose, isn’t that rare. But I’ve known more casual, friendly, collaborative owners, and it’s a much better environment.

But after that interaction, I know it’s not all in my head.

I avoid the questioning looks from my teammates and finish my work out before heading to the showers.

How can I convince Paul to back off? How can I show him I have no interest in his wife? I strip down and step into one of the stalls. The hot water washes over me, and I let it burn my skin, just a little.

I only want to have a great hockey season and hang out with my kid, my family, and my friends. At least Paul and I are on the same page on the topic of having the best season of my life. Back at the lockers, I pull my arms into a long-sleeved raglan t-shirt and sink onto the bench as my mind conjures a picture of Lucy’s red curls and the smooth line of her neck. There are worse people to spend time with.

“Kellie, what are you thinking about?” Lachlan says from his seat on the bench, yanking me out of my daydream. Harley is standing in front of his cubby watching me as well.

“Just how much Paul hates me.” I toss my wet towel into the laundry bin for the equipment manager, who is wandering around picking up anything from the floor that didn’t make it to the right bin.

“He sure does.” Atticus looks around. “And he’s watching Lucy for our asshole father. Keeping an eye on her. Paul told us that directly when we ran into him at Deep Roots Cafe the other day. Richard told me to watch out for you. ” Atticus uses a sing-song voice to mimic Paul.

“No way,” Harley says.

“Yeah. Richard doesn’t care enough to watch me, thank fuck. But he wants to get Lucy to come back to DC FC and, according to her, take her ex back.”

The guys murmur their sympathy.

“After we saw him, Paul must have called Richard, who talked to her ex, who called her earlier this week. He told her to consider coming back to her old job and getting back together with him, even though he’s a cheating asshole.”

Indignation twists in my stomach. That’s an unfortunate string of connections between Paul and Lucy.

“She’s pissed.” Atticus ties his second gym shoe.

“Understandable,” I say.

“I was thinking about Paul hating you, Kellie.” Lachlan pulls his Blizzard-branded string bag out of his locker and drops it on the bench next to me with a clunk. The man’s always got a book with him.

“Wonderful. I also think about that.”

“I had an idea on how to convince him you don’t have a thing for his wife.”

“Christ. Don’t even say those words out loud.” I squint my eyes shut for a beat. “But please, tell me how to fix this.”

“Date someone.” Lachlan throws his arms out like it’s some big surprise idea.

I snort a laugh. “No. Have you met me?”

“Hmm.” Harley runs his hand over his chin, creating a sound like sandpaper on wood. “It’s not the worst idea.” Harley’s approaching retirement, and I can’t imagine what life will be like at the Blizzard without him. He’s only thirty-four, but most hockey players are retired by around thirty, an age in both of our rear-view mirrors. He said he’d go for another season or two and then he’ll head back to Maine to his girlfriend. Get married and pop out a few kids probably.

“I am zero percent interested in dating someone.”

“Yeah, but if you have a girlfriend, mate, it might get Savannah to actually back off you. And since she tells her husband everything—” Lachlan knows about how Savannah voluntarily showed Paul the picture of us on NHL Tea gossip site. “—it’ll certainly be a topic of conversation.”

“Where the hell would I find a girlfriend?”

“Anywhere.” Lachlan shakes his head in disgust. “Literally anywhere.”

“It’s not that easy.” I sound like a whiny child. While they all know how sensitive I am after the Sam situation from last year, I think they’re a bit sick of me swearing off women.

“You don’t have to find the love of your life.” Harley cocks his head to me. “Just someone to throw them off your trail.”

“So I just fake it?”

“I didn’t say that.” But Harley raises his eyebrows and seems to consider it.

“Fake dating. That’s perfect.” Lachlan nods his head and grins, flashing perfectly pearly white teeth. At least one of his perfect front teeth is an implant after having it knocked out on the ice two seasons ago.

“I hate to agree with Lachlan, but I kind of do here. Fake dating a woman to save your hockey career would be epic.” Atticus surveys his locker before closing it and taking a step toward the exit.

“That’s ridiculous. What woman would agree to be a fake girlfriend? And again, where would I find one?”

“Yeah, true.” Harley shrugs.

“I think it’s a good idea. Let’s take a vote.” Lachlan shoots his hand up in the air. “All in favor of Kellie finding a fake girlfriend, raise your hand.” He looks pointedly at Atticus and Harley.

Harley chuckles and raises his hand.

“Yeah, sure.” Atticus raises his as well.

“Three to one. It’s settled. Figure out how to make it happen.” Lachlan points at me, then nods to Atticus and Harley. “You two walking out? ”

My traitorous teammates leave me alone in the locker room to question why I’m friends with them.

I don’t have time to find a real girlfriend. Or a fake one. Were they really serious about that? And I don’t want to have some random woman who I can’t trust all up in my family’s business.

If only there was someone convenient, who I could trust, who would have a reason to go along with?—

I let out a chuckle as the best-slash-worst idea occurs to me.

Lucy.

I could fake date Lucy Knox.

It’s kind of perfect.

I can trust her because she’s Atticus’s sister. We can say we got to know each other over media training. And it’ll be easy to show Paul and Savannah the relationship as we’re all often in close proximity.

And the best part? She has a reason to do it as well.

Maybe she wants Paul to report to her father—and therefore her ex—that she’s getting cozy with a star Blizzard player.

Are there red flags here? Maybe one or ten.

But I can’t deny that the idea of getting to know that woman—even under ridiculous pretenses—is appealing.

She can help me convince Paul I’m harmless when it comes to his wife. Help me keep my spot on the Blizzard.

I can help her piss off her father and her ex.

A grin crosses my face as I pull the first door out of the locker room, then push the second one into the hallway.

I have one more stop before I head home for the day.