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Chapter Three

Andi

My practical heels clicked on the white tiled floor.

I glanced down before skirting around the Sea Dragons' logo laid in the center, between panes of glass that bracketed the tall front, sliding doors.

Everyone else, I noticed, walked straight across it, wearing a path on the colored section of flooring. I winced to myself. The adorable Ruby Sea Dragon mascot, Cee-cee, was too cute for me to step on.

Us redheads have to stick together , I told her silently. She looked back at me, smiling and marketable. Cee-cee merchandise was a big revenue stream for the team. T-shirts, hoodies and plushies like the one I saw on the screen at Shells nearly a week ago .

A kid was waving her in the air, celebrating the win. That was right before that dark-haired asshole with ice cold brown eyes got all in my face. Mistaking me for someone who only wanted to sleep with hockey players to boost their public image, or whatever.

I wouldn't judge another woman for her life choices, but it wasn't something I'd do. Besides, everything I knew about ice hockey would fit in the back of a postage stamp.

Were those even things anymore? I thought so, although they'd largely been replaced by electronic communication and barcodes.

That man though. The memory made my pulse involuntarily race with a combination of irritation and arousal. Mostly irritation. Who did he think he was anyway?

Okay, I admit it. For approximately three seconds, I thought he might be exactly what I needed to help me forget about Xander. Right before he got up close and shattered that illusion. If I wanted an arrogant asshole, I'd date one of approximately half the men from Dad's office. Too many of them would happily date the boss's daughter, in the hopes it would boost their career .

Exactly why I had no intention of dating anyone I worked with. That was all way too muddy.

I stopped at the wood-clad reception desk and smiled at the woman who sat behind it, her hair wound in a neat, pink bun.

I showed her my I.D.

Her eyes narrowed, then widened. She shot up, sitting straighter in her seat. The sudden movement made it roll back a couple of feet, almost into the wall behind her. She windmilled her arms before pulling herself forward again with the ball of her feet.

“Ms. Welling! Head Coach Lampton and the rest of the team are waiting for you. I'm Ursula.” She stuck out her hand. Manicured, bright pink nails matched her hair.

I leaned forward to shake her hand. “It's nice to meet you, Ursula.”

I always made a point of remembering the names of people I worked with, especially those who worked in reception, or as assistants. They seemed to appreciate the effort, and in return, they were more accommodating when I needed anything done. Besides, I didn't want to be one of those faceless CEOs no one could approach without wanting to pee their pants .

“If you don't mind me asking, Ms. Welling…" Her blue eyes were tentative behind long lashes that looked real.

“Please, call me Andi,” I said. “I don't foresee any big changes. At least, not right away. Your job is safe. As long as you keep doing it to the best of your abilities.” Ugh, now I sounded like my mother. I smiled, hoping it didn't look like I was the one who suddenly needed to pee.

She smiled and visibly relaxed. “I always do, Ms.… Andi. If you need anything, just give me a shout.”

“If you could point me to where the team is waiting?” I hadn't stepped foot in the arena before. I hadn't expected to. Not before my father dropped this in my lap five days ago.

I knew what this was. A test in the form of a gift. If I could run an ice hockey team, I could add it to my resume. When it came to choosing his replacement as CEO, it'd set me apart from other prospective candidates.

Why an ice hockey team? I had no idea. Probably because he was well aware I knew absolutely nothing about the sport. He was generous at throwing me in at the deep end.

I was determined not to drown. I also needed to stop thinking about water, or I'd need a pit stop at the toilet.

“Of course,” Ursula said, her tone perky. She stood and led me over to a bank of elevators. “Third floor. When you get out, turn left, then turn right. Go all the way to the end of the corridor and you'll see the meeting room. They'll be in there.”

“Not out on the ice?” According to a sign beside one of the elevators, the rink was downstairs from the reception desk, to the rear of the building. Beside the massive public car park.

“Shouldn't they be training or something?” I didn't want to disrupt their routine. Assuming they had one. Was that a thing with sporting teams? I presumed it was, otherwise their days would be in disarray. If there was anything I hated, it was disarray.

“Not for this meeting,” Ursula said. “This is a big deal. We've been speculating ever since your father bought the Sea Dragons. After the last owner, the guys were nervous. I mean, who bets against their own team?” She made a face.

Probably someone who saw the Sea Dragons’ loss record last season . That was a thought I'd keep to myself. I got it, morale wasn't great around here. That was one of many items on my list to rectify, if I could.

“Someone who's in the team's past,” I said. And good riddance. “As evidenced by the Sea Dragons' win the other night.”

Ursula beamed. “They did so well,” she enthused. “Especially Cam and Flynn.”

“Cameron North and Flynn Weston,” I said, picturing the team roster I'd spent yesterday memorizing.

Ursula's smile broadened. “Yes, them. They've both been superstars in the pre-season. Along with Nate Southwell and Blake Eastwood. They're tight off the ice too, the four of them. Like brothers, even if the family is slightly dysfunctional.”

I committed all of that to memory. “What family isn't a little dysfunctional?” I said with a slight laugh.

Her smile didn't falter. “Mine certainly is. But I've kept you for long enough. I'm so sorry!”

“Don't be,” I said easily. “It's nice to know the inner workings of the team.”

“The gossip, you mean,” she admitted.

I smiled. “Gossip has its place. I expect you'll keep me up-to-date with all the gossip I need to know.”

“If you need gossip, I'm your girl.” She nodded and hurried back to her desk as another person approached.

I pressed the up button and waited for the elevator. The bank contained three of them, apparently all of which were currently at level four.

I tapped my toes on the floor and waited while they remained at level four. I pressed the up button again, for extra oomph, as if that would get me there sooner, and kept waiting.

Finally, the elevator on the right started to move. Up to level five.

“Of course,” I said under my breath.

The elevator on the left moved down to level three, before returning to level four.

“Okay, I get the hint.” I started to look around for a set of stairs I could take instead.

My mother would remark that I needed the exercise anyway. I told her voice in my head to shut up. If only I could do that in person.

“Have you tried pressing the button?” A young man in a suit stopped beside the elevator. He pressed the up button with the tip of his finger. The center elevator door immediately opened with a happy ping.

He gave me a look like he was doubting my sanity, before gesturing for me to step into the car first.

To be honest, I was questioning my sanity too, but I stepped past him and pressed the button to take me to the third floor.

With any luck, it would actually stop there. Otherwise, I might discover exactly what the attraction of level four was.

If I recalled correctly, it was just office space up there. Hell, for all I knew, they'd turned it into a videogame arcade. If that was the case, I looked forward to seeing it for myself.

Lucky for me, my elevator companion only needed to go to level two. He kept his distance as far as the car would allow, before giving me another funny look and quickly stepping out and away.

“First order of business,” I said when the doors closed behind him. “Getting these elevators looked at. Second order of business, stop talking out loud to myself.”

I glanced at my reflection in the shiny walls of the elevator car and patted my hair down as best I could. My curls were as obedient as the elevator system.

I'd tried straightening them, and even wearing my hair short, but it always bounced back into a riot of wild curls. Not even an anti-frizz conditioner helped it to settle.

In the end, I gave up and wore it in a ponytail or a messy bun. If it was going to look messy, I might as well try to convince people it was deliberate.

By some miracle, the elevator stopped at the third floor. The door actually opened. I even clicked out into the corridor without tripping and falling on my face. Things were looking up. For now.

I looked both ways with a frown. Ursula had said to turn left, hadn't she? I nodded to myself, before going that way, then taking a right.

A long corridor, lined with doorways led to ordinary offices. On the western side, they showed sweeping views of the city of Lowball Bay. To the east, the offices had views of the sparkling ocean.

I hurried down the corridor toward the sound of voices. They sounded relaxed, friendly. Chatty banter and the occasional laugh.

“Shut up, Nate,” called out a cheerful voice. “You know it's not…"

I couldn't make out the rest of what he said, he'd lowered his voice.

“Whatever,” someone else replied. “They won't keep us waiting much longer. They know how important we are. ”

That was met with a chorus of laughter.

“If you say so, Nate,” a rumbly male voice said.

“What did you say their name was, Coach?” I thought that might have been Nate. “Andrew Welling. How bad can he be?”

I winced.

This wasn't the first time people got confused. I preferred to go by Andi, rather than Andrea, for a whole bunch of reasons.

Firstly, imagine an angry mother shouting out, “A ndreaaa ,” in a shrill voice. That explains at least half of it. The rest of it— I liked Andi. It was a no-nonsense name that suited me, a no-nonsense person.

Okay, that was the image I tried to portray to the world. My hair, and tendency to step on things I shouldn't, told a different story. Expectations versus reality weren't always kind.

I stopped in the doorway that led to the huge meeting room.

Being right at the back of the building, the view out the windows showed the city and a stretch of glittering waves. The arena was on prime real estate.

I'd wondered if my father wanted to tear it down and build apartments on the land, but I suspected he would have had a fight on his hands if he tried.

Regardless of their performance, the city loved its team and its arena. Besides which, the arena was good for the local economy. Even my father couldn't argue with that, in spite of the impact on his bottom line. He was a businessman before he was anything else, and good will went a long way to getting things done quickly and to his advantage.

The room itself had gray carpet, the logo of the Sea Dragons on the wall, and more chairs than I could count.

If I had to guess, I'd say the entire roster was here in the room, not just the first line, and all of the coaching staff, from the head coach, to the goalie coach and strength and conditioning coach.

There was more testosterone in this room than there was in Shells Bar the other night. More testosterone than in my father's office building. A couple of the coaches were women, but the rest, and all the players present were men.

That was another order of business. A women's hockey team for the Lowball Bay Sea Dragons.

For now, I'd deal with what was in front of me. If I could.

Wait.

Shit .

I stared in disbelief .

The asshole from Shells leaned his hip against the table in the corner. He looked at me with those same cold, brown eyes. This time, they were laced with a measure of confusion.

“Take a wrong turn?” he asked before anyone else realized I was there.

“I don't think so,” I said as brightly as I could manage. “I'm the team's new owner, Andi Welling.”