Page 3 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO (Second Chance Hockey Players #1)

Chapter two

Liam

“ L adies and gentlemen,” the voice booms over the speakers, “without further ado, and to stop my rambling, please welcome the CEO of NextPhase Performance Technologies, star forward for the Avalanche hockey team, and the visionary behind today’s launch - Liam Callahan!”

Sighing, I adjust the cuffs of my sleeves and raise an eyebrow at Elias, my Marketing Manager, who is clapping far too enthusiastically in my direction. Letting him manage my introduction was a mistake - I knew it would be. The man has a flair for overdoing everything.

I push a breath through my nose and walk up the steps to the podium, my jaw tight as I approach Elias, leaning in close to whisper.

“You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” I mutter, my tone laced with sarcasm. “I told you not to overdo it.”

Elias grins, unapologetic. “What can I say? It feels good to talk you up. Besides, I am proud of you.”

I roll my eyes, stepping to the center of the podium. The applause continues for a moment before I raise a hand, signaling the crowd to settle down.

“Good morning, everyone,” I begin, my voice steady and clear.

“Thank you for being here today. At NextPhase Performance Technologies, we have always believed that success isn’t just about talent…

It's about preparation, precision, and the tools that help athletes push boundaries. Today, we bring that belief to life.”

I pause, my gaze sweeping over the crowd, making deliberate eye contact with a few key figures. “We are thrilled to introduce our latest line of performance gear, designed for hockey players. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, EdgeSim, our virtual reality system for simulated training.”

I gesture toward the screen behind me as a sleek demo video begins to play, showing athletes fully immersed in a virtual environment.

I pause, letting the anticipation in the room build before diving into the specifics. "Now, I’m not saying this because it’s my creation, well, maybe just a little bit…,” causing the room to erupt in laughter, and I wait a beat before continuing.

“EdgeSim replicates everything from high stakes matches to the small nuances of individual plays. The system allows players to immerse themselves in the simulated game scenarios, creating an environment that is too real to seem like it is a game. With EdgeSim, it is not just about playing harder - it’s about training smarter.

It’s about maximizing potential, cutting down learning curves, and making elite-level training accessible for every player, from rookies to seasoned professionals. "

I gesture to the screen as the video highlights real-time analytics.

“EdgeSim tracks everything and delivers real-time performance analytics from form and reaction times to decision-making skills. Think of it as your personal coach, strategist, and game film analyst rolled into one seamless system. No wasted reps. No guesswork. Just pure, focused performance improvement.”

The murmurs grow louder, excitement sparking like electricity in the room.

I let my gaze travel across the room again. “And if you are wondering if this is the peak, think again. We are just getting started. Expansion plans for other sports are already underway. But tonight? It is about celebrating what is here now - the future of athletic performance.”

There is a ripple of applause, and I step back slightly, acknowledging it with a small nod. "Thank you for being part of this journey. Let’s redefine what athletes can achieve - together."

The applause is louder this time. As I head off the stage, Elias is waiting, his clipboard tucked under his arm, nodding like a proud parent.

"See? Not too bad," he says, falling into step beside me. "Told you the intro would be an extra booster."

I shake my head, not bothering to argue. “Tell the media team, PR, and everyone else to meet in conference room two in thirty minutes.”

“On it, boss,” he replies, already tapping on his phone.

****

As soon as I get to the building, my assistant, Mira, is waiting just outside the door with a coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other.

“Sir, you’ve got the files for the campaign meeting here and ready,” she says, handing me the coffee.

“And the live stream is trending. People are calling it one of the most exciting launches this year.”

“Good,” I say, taking the tablet from her and glancing at the highlights that she’s compiled. The comments are overwhelmingly positive, though I spot the occasional critique. “Make sure the social team responds to the reviews professionally. We do not need trolls derailing the momentum.”

“Already on it,” she says with a sharp nod before veering off to her desk.

By the time I step into the conference room, everyone is already seated, laptops and notebooks out.

“Good,” I say when I take my seat at the head of the table. “Let’s get started.” The room goes quiet as all eyes turn toward me.

“First, I’d like to say, great job everyone,” I begin.

“The event ran smoothly, the demo showcased our products as intended, and we have had some good media buzz already. It is because of you all, so thank you.” After a couple of minutes of applause, I glance at the PR lead, Catherine.

“Catherine, I will need a full breakdown of today’s media coverage by the end of the day.

Mira showed me a little, but I need a comprehensive report from you. Focus on traction with key outlets.”

She nods quickly. “Already on it, Mr. Callahan.”

I shift my focus to the table. “Now, let us move on to the real work. As you know, the Avalanche rebranding campaign is coming up soon, and it is one of the biggest projects we have undertaken this year, not just because it’s my team. Where are we on the products?”

Madison, the lead from our design and product development team, responds first; her pen already poised over her notebook.

“The wearable tech and the footwear are both in the final production phase. We are finalizing packaging designs to align with the campaign’s new aesthetic, and I will have mockups for approval by Friday. ”

“Excellent,” I replied. “Ensure the performance wristbands can adequately monitor heart rate, speed, and recovery metrics in real-time. Also, prioritize ease of use. It has to be intuitive. No one is going to use a product that feels like homework.”

“All right, sir.”

“And the lightweight gear? Helmets, gloves, and pads?”

Jeremy clears his throat. “We have made great strides on the durability front. The helmets passed all safety tests with flying colors, and the gloves are being tweaked for better grip without sacrificing flexibility. The padding design is still being refined, but we are confident that we will hit the deadline.”

“Confidence isn’t good enough,” I say, my tone firm but even. “I need certainty. I need feedback on progress next week.”

Jeremy straightens in his seat. “Got it, Mr. Callahan. I will double the team’s efforts.”

“See that you do,” I say, staring at him and everyone, watching them squirm. “Any other update?”

Cynthia, the marketing head, chimes in. “We have a lot of creative ideas coming together. The PR team has been coordinating with the designers, and we are confident this campaign will resonate with fans and players alike.”

I nod. “Good. I want visuals that stand out. Dynamic shots of the players in action, not just staged poses. Authenticity sells. If people believe it, they will buy it.”

Elias leans forward, chiming in. “The media team has already shortlisted a few photographers for the shoot. We are looking at a blend of lifestyle and sports specialists to make sure we get the tone right.”

I raise a brow. “How many are we bringing in?”

“Four,” Elias replies, “all top-tier talent. Two for the action shots and two for the behind-the-scenes lifestyle content.”

I nod again, taking a sip of my coffee. “Perfect. Just make sure they understand the stakes. We need this campaign to be flawless.”

Discussion flows from there, moving to color palettes, slogans, and the logistics of coordinating shoots with the team’s practice schedule. I give input where it is needed, but for the most part, I let the team handle the details.

After two hours and everything in place, I stand and glance around the room. “Fine,” I say, my voice decisive. “Make it happen. Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone scatters as I head out the door. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I glance at the screen. It is Logan, and I already have an idea of why he is calling.

“Logan,” I answer, heading toward the elevator.

“Dude! Great job today, man. I caught the live stream,” he says, his voice practically humming with enthusiasm. “That demo? Solid. You have everyone hyped.”

I lean back against the elevator wall, smirking. “Glad to hear it. What do you want?”

There is a pause, but I can practically feel his grin through the line.

“In three, two, one…,” I mutter under my breath.

“Are you coming to practice, or should I tell the guys you’re too busy being Mr. Big Shot CEO now?” His tone is playful, but I catch the underlying seriousness.

I roll my eyes, but a grin tugs at my lips. “I am on my way. Seriously Logan, you need to stop asking me this. You know I will not miss a practice except for a good reason.”

“Good, because Coach is already on edge, and if you’re late, we’re all running suicides,” Logan warns, his tone only half-joking.

“Relax,” I say, stepping into the elevator. “I’ll be there.”

“Alright, see you soon, hotshot.”

Fifteen minutes later, I step into the arena. The chill in the air greets me like an old friend, and the familiar sound of skates cutting through the ice echoes faintly from the rink.

“Callahan!” Coach Mark yells from across the benches as I pull on my jersey. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, coach.”

“Only because today is good for you, so I’ll let it go. Congratulations on the launch, by the way.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“Now, go join the others. We will be doing laps in five.”

I skate over to where the rest of the team is gathered near the bench, Logan spotting me first. He grins wide, immediately patting my back as I approach.

“Look who finally made it,” he says, his tone teasing.

I raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t I just talk to you ten minutes ago?”

“What can I say, I missed you. I could hardly function without you here,” he says, leaning in.

“Buzz off…!” I push him off me.

“Meanie”

“Goal fumbler,” I retort, smirking.

“Ouch,” Logan winces dramatically, clutching his chest. “You’ve been here all of thirty seconds, and you’re already roasting me.”

The rest of the guys chuckle.

“Hey, where’s Matt?”

“Something came up. We will talk about that later,” Logan says, making me raise my eyebrow because this is unlike Matt.

“Alright, alright,” Coach interrupts, blowing his whistle. “Let me see some hustle. Laps, now.”

We fall into formation and push off into our first lap, the sound of skates slicing through ice ringing in my ears. The chill air hits my face, sharp and invigorating, and for a moment, it all clicks into place.

This…, this is why I love the game. The simplicity of the movement, the adrenaline of pushing my limits, the rhythm of the ice beneath my feet. It is raw, unfiltered, pure.

As I round the corner, Logan catches up, grinning over at me. “Feeling slow today, Callahan?”

I shake my head, picking up my pace. “Keep up, rookie.”

He laughs, but I do not miss the competitive glint in his eye as he surges forward, and just like that, it’s game on. Out here, nothing else matters - not the launch, not the endless responsibilities. Just the ice and the game.