Page 3 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance (Midlife Meet Cute #6)
Rebecca
Any minute now, Derek, the assistant and interim coach, will come fetch me for the ceremony, which gives my nerves a jolt to think about. I’d have much preferred to meet the team in the locker room before practice started, but the staff insisted we make an event out of it.
Well, mostly Jack Standish, the general manager, who insists the press coverage will help shed a new and promising light on the future of the Sun Kings. His words.
I reposition my keyboard, pen, and notepad on my desk for at least the third time.
He’s right, but I’ve never been that comfortable with the spotlight.
And right now, I’m more interested in finding a new coach for this team before the season starts.
Derek doesn’t feel qualified for the position, and I’m inclined to agree.
Awkward conversation avoided there, thankfully.
A soft tap draws my attention to the doorway to my office.
Derek smiles, but his eyes appear guarded as if he’s as unsure about this whole situation as I am. “We’re ready.”
Understandable, of course. The team and staff suffered a shock finding out about their coach, the person who’s supposed to be rooting for and not against you. The arena isn’t the only thing in need of serious repair. It’s going to take time to earn the trust of this crew.
I stand, smoothing anxious fingers over my black slacks, and straighten the collar of the deep red-orange top I chose to reflect the Sun Kings’ colors.
This team needs to know I’m not one of those hands-off owners who swoop in only for the wins.
I plan to be here every day, overseeing operations and finding them a coach who thinks outside of the box.
And believes in them.
Once we reach the end of the tunnel, Derek steps aside and gestures to the clear plexiglass podium waiting for me. Jack stands there with a smile that makes him appear more anxious than happy.
The rest of the staff sit in chairs on a black mat behind him with neutral expressions on their faces.
Except for Harper—Jack’s niece—who I found out was brought on as a college intern.
She’s like a dolphin, perpetually smiling and always ready to help.
She returned to my office that first day with the promised ant killer and a can of WD40 to quiet my creaky chair.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d already placed an order for a new desk and chair to be delivered the next day.
Right now, I need an ally here. And she just may be my girl.
The team is fully geared up, including sticks, standing on the ice in a semi-circle in front like an audience. Behind them, the press. Mostly local, except for one reporter from USA Hockey Magazine.
I step out onto the black runner spanning the ice and make my way to the stand as the attending press takes photos.
But I’m more keenly aware of how the players are watching me, how they’re fidgeting back and forth on their skates and swapping concerned glances.
They’re the ones I need to impress and reassure.
“Today, it’s my pleasure to introduce our new owner, Ms. Rebecca Piedmont.” Jack steps back, leaving a sudden and silent gap in the dialogue.
I’d expected him to say more, but I guess he’s ceding that privilege to me. I remember to smile, thanks to Kayla’s voice in my head, and scan the line of players watching me.
Seeing their expectant faces, most likely wondering if they’ll have a team to play for in a year, brings to mind the advice my father used to give to his players.
“Good afternoon, team.” I glance over my shoulder at the staff to make sure they understand that I don’t just mean the players on the ice.
“My father, former coach and general manager, Sam Piedmont, used to say a good coach directs. A great coach listens. I’m not your coach—probably a good thing.
” More laughter. “But I do plan to listen.”
Stepping around the podium, I walk to the edge of the black mat. The players are looking at each other, mildly confused.
“I’ve gotten acquainted with each of the staff members, but now I’d like to meet each of you.”
After more unsure glances, the goaltender skates over. “Wade Pierce, ma’am. Goaltender.”
I shake his hand. “I think the pads gave it away, Wade.”
He chuckles and tips a hat that isn’t there, confirming his Texas origins. “I guess it does. If you don’t mind me saying, your daddy was a great man.”
A wave of emotion pushes behind my eyes. “He was. Thank you.”
Another player skates up and nudges Wade to move on. “Ethan McKennan, defense. Pleased to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, Ethan. Thank you for taking care of your forwards.”
After a moment of surprise, he grins and shakes my hand. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
I let the ma’am slide as the rest of the players line up, much like they do after winning a game to congratulate the goalie. My heart squeezes at the thought.
The next one moves forward. “Payton Maxwell and it’s an honor. I’d say welcome to the team, but technically, you outrank us all now. Just promise you won’t trade me too quickly, yeah?”
I can’t help but smile at his cheeky British humor. “I’ve seen your stats, Payton. No worries there.”
His grin widens. “Cheers.”
The rest glide up, one by one. I match each face to the names and positions I’ve already memorized, adding first impressions to my mental files.
I’ll gain deeper insights when they return for practice in a few weeks because I plan to attend and get a feel for the dynamics of this team.
At least initially. We still need a captain since the previous coach stupidly traded ours for a rookie.
After the last player skates back to the rest, I return to the podium to invite the press to ask their questions, but the words evaporate from my tongue. For a moment, the arena and its occupants fade, leaving only one person in sharp focus.
Zach Keller. The years have added lines to his face and streaks of silver to his dark hair, but the intensity of his gaze remains unchanged.
A gaze locked on me.
The last time I saw him, I was a twenty-year-old in college, planning to follow in my father’s footsteps in sports management.
I wanted to work in the industry in any way possible to stay connected to the game I’d loved since childhood.
Zach played right wing on the team my father was coaching then.
Driven, attractive, five years older, and cocky as all get out. Not to mention taboo.
Me, that is. Dad made it clear his daughter was off limits. But that didn’t stop us from flirting, and Zach and I did a lot of that. When I didn’t have classes, I would hang out at the arena, soaking in as much of the sport I loved as possible and helping my father with miscellaneous tasks.
When Zach noticed I was there, he’d make a point to skate past me, wearing that tilted smile that made my stomach flutter. Sometimes, he’d wink at me.
And then, one day, he stopped, leaning against the boards after practice, his grin as cocky as ever. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure my father wasn’t in earshot before whispering, “You ever going to let me take you out, Rebecca?”
I tried not to smile but failed miserably. “My father would have a fit.”
He didn’t say anything. Just raised his brows, challenging me.
Reckless? Definitely. But I couldn’t stay away. Looking back now, I don’t know if we were drawn to the thrill of secrecy or if we truly believed in what we had. At the time, I was sure it was real. I bet everything on it. But in the end, it wasn’t time that proved me wrong—it was Zach.
My hands have a death grip on the podium.
I didn’t think the man was capable of becoming even more attractive, but that sprinkle of silver at the sides only added to his rugged appeal.
The same smugness resided in his tilted smile, but age lines softened his fierce gaze somewhat.
However, nothing had diminished his confidence, that’s for sure.
I refocus and point to a young woman. “Your question.”
“Sophie Adams, the Sarabella Herald Tribune. What made you decide to take a chance on the Sun Kings?”
A warmth fills me as I think of my father. “Owning a hockey franchise has always been a shared dream for my father and me. I guess we both like challenges.” Laughter ripples around me. “My only wish is that he was here today to share this with me.”
I point to the reporter from USA Hockey next.
“Ms. Piedmont, what are your initial plans for the team?”
“We have a long list of things to accomplish, but our priorities are getting the arena updated and, of course, finding a new coach.”
Zach lifts his hand, and everything inside me tightens.
I’m tempted to avoid his question—to avoid him. When he got called up to the NHL, I thought that would mean a future for us since I wouldn’t be his coach’s daughter anymore, but he didn’t stay in touch. And I certainly wasn’t going to drop out of college and give up my dream to follow him.
Might as well get it over with. Hopefully, this will be our first and last encounter. I gesture his way. “Your question?”
“What makes you think you can bring this team back from the brink?” His eyes challenge me, just like he used to. And that same bristle I remember spreads through me. The man always knew which of my buttons to push.
I scan the expectant faces of the players watching me as if their fate rested on my answer. They know, and I know that next season will determine a lot about the future of the Sun Kings. And this old arena isn’t the only thing in desperate need of repair.
“I can’t, but I’m confident that we can.
” I swivel my head to look at the staff behind me, then face forward again, meeting the stares of several of the players.
“We are a team—all of us. It won’t be easy.
But this place? This team? It has good bones, and we’ve got fire in our veins.
So let the league count us out. We’ll show them exactly what a second chance looks like. ”
First, the goalie, Wade, taps his stick on the ice. Then, the others follow suit. Tears threaten to push into my eyes, but I manage to restrain them. But the warmth spreading through me energizes my resolve to make my words prove true. To unite this ragtag team into a force to be reckoned with.
And no one, not even Zach Keller, will tell me otherwise.