Page 7 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance (Midlife Meet Cute #6)

Rebecca

“He’s way more qualified.” Jack taps his finger next to the top name on the list of candidates for the coaching position.

He stares down at me from the other side of my desk—more like looming over me.

I recognize the stance for what it is—mouth set in a frown, eyes narrowed, looming over me to invade my space.

Every instinct screams at me to retreat, but the hardheadedness I got from my father digs in its heels. I stand and brace my hands on the desk, refusing to yield until he backs off.

“Perhaps more qualified, but I don’t think he’s right for this team.

” Why would I put one of the former coach’s cronies in charge of my players?

Makes me wonder if Jack truly has their best interests in mind or his own personal agenda.

From what I understand, he and the previous coach were tight.

Nothing implicated him in the scandal, but that doesn’t mean he was blind to what was going on right under his nose.

He waves me off as he turns and heads toward the door. “Markelson doesn’t have the experience we need.”

His brusque tone sounds dismissive as if he has the final say. But this is my team, and I know what I’m doing.

“I understand your concerns, but I think you’ll agree once you meet him.”

He spins around. “You already offered him a contract?”

“No, of course not. More like an interview. As much for him as for us.”

He shakes his head. “How did you even find out about this guy?”

“Zach Keller suggested him and made the introduction.”

“I’m your general manager. You’re supposed to leave these things to me.” He turns to leave again.

“Jack.”

He pauses in the doorway, then turns, his face shuttered.

The man might as well have cotton in his ears at this point.

Maybe he’ll hear what I have to say, maybe he won’t, but I refuse to back down.

Jack wants to keep the status quo, which means certain death for this team, but he’s too narrow-minded to see that—to understand we need fresh blood, a new approach.

“I told you the day I first walked in here that I’d be hands-on with running things.

You said you didn’t have a problem with that because we’re a team—all of us.

We work together and find solutions. I simply got the ball rolling.

And tomorrow, when Gabe gets here, all of us—even the team—will meet and interview him. ”

He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“They’re hockey players. Their job is to play hockey, win games, and do what they’re told.”

I shake my head. “Not this team. Not anymore. I want them to take part in the process.”

“Why?” He scowls as if I made an absurd statement.

“Because owning a decision like this is exactly what the team needs to come together. Right now, they’re operating like a bunch of mercenaries out for blood. Even if it’s one of their own teammates.”

“How would you know? You just got here.”

I snicker. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to buy a team without studying the games and analyzing performance stats for the past five years?”

His brows furrow, and a flash of doubt springs up in his eyes.

Keeping my tone firm, I tap a manicured nail on my laptop. “I can show you the spreadsheets I made with the data and my predictions if you want proof.”

“Proof of what?”

Not the time to pull punches. “That something has to change in management before there’s no team to manage.”

His chest expands with his inhale, and his eyes fill with stubborn pride. “Are you firing me?”

I hoped this would go smoother. If he can’t embrace a fresh vision for the Sun Kings, I may be searching for a new GM as well as a coach.

“No, I’m asking you to get on board with some changes. Can you do that?”

He doesn’t say a word. Only glares at me, then walks out.

Great. Either I have a toddler for a GM, who needs to go sulk in his office. Or he just quit without telling me.

I scoot around my desk, intent on following him, but when I barrel out of my door and turn the corner, I plow into a wall of muscle in a suit. “What are you doing here?”

Zach steadies me with his hands on my upper arms. “I stopped by to firm up our plans for this weekend. Are you okay?”

Warmth and concern fill his dark eyes, and his scent—sandalwood and pine—fills my nose, yanking me back to the past when we dated. When I realize I’m gripping the lapels of his jacket, I jerk my hands away and step out of his embrace.

I huff out a breath. “I’m fine. Just dealing with a cranky GM.”

He glances over his shoulder. “That was Jack?”

The disbelief in his gaze is affirming. I nod.

“He seemed…frustrated.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” I can tell from the look in his eyes that ‘frustrated’ wasn’t his first choice of words. The Zach of the past wouldn’t have held back what he truly thought, even if it came out borderline offensive. Time seems to have softened some of his edges.

I put a hand over my chest, under my neck. Despite working in this industry for years, dealing with some of the old mentality still takes a lot of my energy and my peace sometimes. Like today.

Zach tilts his head, studying me. “Care to take a walk?”

I glance down at my heels. “I forgot my walking shoes.”

“You don’t need shoes on the beach.” A slow, easy smile spreads over his lips and sparks something in his eyes.

That’s the one place I haven’t made time to visit in Sarabella yet. I’ve been so focused on getting the remodel of the arena started and finding a coach. Now, I may have to hire a new GM, and who knows who else will walk if Jack does.

I’d hate to lose Harper. The girl has potential, and she’s eager to learn. “I don’t know. I have so much to do. And with Jack—”

He touches a finger to my lips, sending sparks through me—and memories. “It’s after six, and everyone has left for the day. Isn’t the owner of the Sun Kings allowed to have an evening to herself once in a while?”

Even after he lowers his hand, the attraction I had for him all those years ago flares. Except there’s something different about Zach. He seems more controlled and patient. More at peace with himself.

“Not when she has an arena remodel to oversee and a GM who’s not happy with her right now.”

“Jack will get over it.” He pauses as if he’s listening. “And I don’t hear any construction noise, so I’m guessing the workers have left for the day, too.”

“Fine. But I should change clothes first.”

“If you say so.” His gaze skims down my body.

Those eyes might as well be lasers by the way he leaves a trail of heat all over me. “You didn’t intend to get sand in your suit, did you?”

He takes a step closer. “I would for you.”

My inhale shakes through my lungs. I remember the exhilaration of dating Zach.

The anticipation—the titillation of doing something I knew my father wouldn’t approve of.

Maybe that was a big part of the draw then.

Zach was the bad boy hockey player, according to my father, and that made him off-limits.

Later on, I realized it had more to do with me being the coach’s daughter—I was the one who was off-limits.

What if that’s what drove Zach to pursue me back then?

Don’t men often want what they can’t have?

But this, now, this feels more dangerous.

As much as I may want to explore this new version of him and see if the spark between us could have a longer life than it did in the past, I don’t need this kind of distraction right now.

Not with the future of my team hanging in the balance.

“Fine. I’ll go on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“This isn’t a date. Like you said, we’re just two older friends catching up. Deal?”

He doesn’t even try to hide his disappointment, which pleases me for some reason. “All right. But friends eat dinner together, too, you know.”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

“Sorry.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “But there’s a burger place near Mango Key Beach that has the best truffle fries you’ve ever tasted.”

Intending to grab my bag, I spin around to head back to my office. “You’re still pushing,” I singsong, sounding like my sister.

He follows me to my desk. “Just making a recommendation, in case.”

I sling my purse over my shoulder, then pause. “In case of what?”

“In case you get hungry, or…” Sheepish at first, his expression turns earnest.

“Or?”

When he searches my face, our eyes lock just like they would at the arena when he played, and I wore his jersey. “Or you decide you want to spend more time with me.”

The air between us grows thick with unspoken words and feelings I’m not ready to hear or feel. Like I said…dangerous.

“As a friend?” Boundaries, people. Gotta keep ’em.

He relents. “If that’s what makes you happy.”

His statement feels more like a question than acquiescence. And I’m asking myself the same question dancing in his eyes.

Will keeping Zach in the friend zone make me happy?