Page 9 of Reputation (Toronto Royals #1)

Chapter Six

Eavie

Monday morning, Eavie stood looking up at the fourteen-story tower that crowned the sports complex the Royals team called home.

At the base, the arena stood proud like a stone giant, its walls imposing over the streets below.

Between the repeating archways of stone spaced evenly along the side, triple-height banners showcased each of the twenty-two players making up this season’s team.

Beside it, the tower housing the management side of the business rose into the city’s skyline.

From the few occasions she had visited the building, she knew the various departments took up the upper half of it, while the team and players facilities, along with the practice arena, resided on the lower half.

Together, they made up the Royals Sports Complex, which spread over an entire city block.

Standing across the street, Eavie held her takeout coffee cup in one hand as she let herself take it in.

It was an odd sight—the old, statuesque arena, whose bones had been standing for almost one hundred years and modified throughout, sitting next to the new, shining tower built only a few years ago.

While they were very different in design, they somehow complimented each other, melding the old with the new.

Now, as she gazed at her new office, she couldn’t help but soak in the joy of her accomplishment as she tilted her head back to stare at the top. As she sipped her latte, she watched the sun reflect off the glass and onto the day that would start this new chapter of her life.

It sounded silly to think a simple promotion would cause such a difference, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but feel her life was about to change significantly. She couldn’t put her finger on why, but the feeling in her gut told her to be ready.

At the thought, her gaze shifted down to the archway of the arena directly across from her.

Staring back at her were piercing gray eyes that seemed to latch onto her presence.

A wry smile tugged at her lips as she stared at the thirty-foot banner showcasing none other than Jax Morghan’s ridiculously handsome face.

Before, she would have believed his good looks were because of the lighting and touch-ups from the photographers.

After last week, she couldn’t say the same.

Now, she knew the face staring back at her from across the street actually looked like that, knew intimately the scar that touched his oh-so-talented mouth.

That fucking smirk . It was as if he was taunting her with her mistake from last week.

She shook her head as the feeling in her gut tripped over itself.

Her body’s instant response to seeing his photo had her worried about what seeing him in person would do to her.

She had been battling the same concern since the night she met him.

It was as if that feeling was telling her to be ready for him .

Absolutely not, she chastised herself. There was no way she was letting herself even contemplate that the fluttery feeling inside had anything to do with Jax Morghan.

Instead, she shook off the thought, not letting the niggling idea sour her mood.

Whatever this gut feeling was, she wouldn’t allow it to shadow this moment.

She had worked hard to get to where she was and refused to let anything water down her excitement.

Hiking her bag higher onto her shoulder, she shook off the feeling that Jax was watching her as she crossed the street and entered the lobby.

Inside, she made her way to the bank of elevators, selecting the twelve on the screen.

She followed the prompt to elevator eight, stepping in when it arrived.

As the elevator made its ascent, she checked her appearance one last time in the mirrored walls, ensuring her hair was tidy and her skirt was straight.

When the doors opened, she took a fortifying breath and stepped into the elegant, modern lobby of the executive offices.

The floor was decorated with modern accents, including shining white stone floors, glass walls, and black trim. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the lake to the south and the city to the north. The glass interior walls let the warm morning autumn light flood the space.

Just across from the elevators was an expansive lobby filled with caramel-colored leather with wood accent chairs and a wooden coffee table that looked more like a sculpture than a piece of furniture.

To the right was a curving stone reception desk, behind which sat a woman with gray, curly hair cut short.

She had a thick pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she looked over them as Eavie approached.

Her dark skin was smooth and nearly wrinkle-free, contradicting her otherwise grandmotherly appearance.

“Good morning,” the older woman said in a soft, lilting voice. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Eavie Adams. I’m starting today as the EA to Sam Morin. I was told to ask for Amanda.”

The woman nodded when Eavie introduced herself. “Yes, of course. Welcome to the Royals team. My name is Janette, and I’m the receptionist for this floor. If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll let Mandy know you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Eavie responded. Turning, she went to the seating area Janette had gestured to. She had a feeling the older woman wasn’t one for small talk.

Eavie had been to the tower occasionally when she worked for the Heirs, but never to this floor. She felt a few nerves dance through her stomach as she sat in one of the plush lobby chairs.

She took a few more deep, calming breaths as she waited, reminding herself she knew how to do this job. She was good at what she did and would be offered the permanent position because of it.

She turned her head toward the long hallway behind the reception desk when she heard heels clicking on the stone floor.

A thin woman with long, jet-black hair approached her, wearing a burgundy-colored fitted dress and nude pumps.

She looked more like a model on a runway than another assistant to an executive.

She smiled at Eavie as she approached and reached out her hand. “Eavie, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Amanda, but everyone calls me Mandy. I’m Jason Leblanc’s assistant,” she said, referring to the club’s president.

Standing, Eavie returned the gesture. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Follow me,” she said, gesturing with her hand as she pivoted back the way she came. “I’ll show you to your office first so you can drop off your things, and then I’ll give you a tour of our floor.”

Eavie kept pace beside her, their heels clicking in unison as they turned right down a long hallway flanked on either side by frosted windows and doors with nameplates. Interspersed between the offices were several board rooms encased with more glass walls.

“I’ll give you a facility tour and get your photo ID card this afternoon. There’s a meeting this morning, and we won’t have time before then,” Mandy commented.

Continuing their path down the hall, they emerged into an open-concept space filled with cubicles.

Only a few people sat behind the desks right now, but a quick scan told her it held twenty or so desks.

They walked down the center of the line of cubicles and continued for a few more steps before stopping at the door on the right.

The nameplate said Office of the General Manager .

On either side were tall, thin windows, completely frosted.

Mandy opened the door and stepped aside to let Eavie go first.

Inside was a large square room with cream walls and dark blue carpet.

To the left was a cozy seating area designed as a waiting space.

On the right were bookcases full of books about various subjects, everything from game theory to hockey autobiographies, a handful of trophies, and some knickknacks.

There was also a wooden sideboard cabinet with a coffee machine and a small potted plant.

At the back sat a large wooden desk that matched the sideboard and high-backed office chair. Directly behind the desk were four large windows through which massive fluorescent lights blazed inside steel rafters.

“This is your office,” Mandy said as Eavie walked in. “The door to your left is the entrance to Sam’s.” She pointed to the open one beside the cluster of seats.

Eavie nodded as she wandered to the windows, curious about what was beyond.

Looking down, she saw figures dressed in practice jerseys skating around the ice.

Without conscious thought, her eyes latched onto a figure crouched in a forward frog pose, knees out to the side.

She knew instinctively it was Jax before she even took in the number printed on his back—number eighty-five.

As she watched, he bounced a few times, pushing his legs out to the side before he dropped his hips down and forward.

The images of him performing a similar movement while braced above her flashed in her mind.

She stepped back from the window abruptly.

Down, girl—put the rabbit back in the den!

Turning back to Mandy, she hoped the flash of heat wasn’t spreading to her cheeks. “It’s great, thank you, but I hope I’m not expected to keep that plant alive,” she said, nodding to the one on the sideboard. “I will kill it.”

Mandy chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, it’s fake.

After several failed attempts to keep real ones alive, we learned they don’t seem to enjoy living in our offices.

I’m glad you like the space, though. I’m sorry for all the blue and white.

When the offices were built a few years ago, the designer went a little overboard with being on brand. ”