Page 4 of Slap Shot (Blades Hockey #5)

Daisy

Nothing is fine.

In fact, as the firmˇs former frat bro receptionist appears in my office doorway with a look on his face that says buckle-up-sweetheart-shitˇs-about-to-get-rough , I consider the idea of booking a one-way ticket to Antarctica and figuring out a way to live there for the rest of forever.

I could do it. I mean, Iˇll miss watching screaming husky videos and eating my weight in vermicelli bowls, but for the sake of my sanity, Iˇll happily move to

¨Arthur wants to see you, Daisy.〃

Shit .

I turn away from Trevor to set my desktop computer to sleep mode. ¨Sure, yeah. No problem.〃 There is no amount of joy in my soul as I stuff my feet into an incredibly uncomfortable pair of black heels. ¨Whatever Arthur wants.〃

Trevor doesnˇt comment on my sarcasm.

Like a good little soldier, he marches me from my office, down a long, never-ending hallway featuring an assortment of arachnid portraitureI see them in my nightmares sometimesand straight into the lair of Arthur Phister. Itˇs an unfortunate surname but not nearly as unfortunate as the man himself.

He doesnˇt even look up from his computer when he barks out, ¨Is that Daisy, Trevor?〃

¨In the flesh, Mr. Phister,〃 I say.

Trevor narrows his eyes at me like heˇs finally catching onto the fact that my tongue can be razor sharp even when my expression is as placid as a lake. His chin dips so he can peer down at me from his eight-inch height advantage. ¨Arthur,〃 he begins, as if I really care that Iˇm not a first-name basis with our boss, ¨would you like me to stay and take minutes for you?〃

¨Thank you, but no.〃

Instead of feeling the sting of rejection, Trevorˇs green eyes shimmer with glee. ¨Whatever you want, Arthur.〃

Gross.

¨Take a seat, Daisy.〃 Arthur waves me in, his gaze still trained on his computer, fingers flying a million miles a minute over his ancient keyboard. The clack-clack-clack of the keys imitates the sound of my heels clicking across the marble floor before I lower myself into the chair across from him.

If Iˇd known this meeting was happening, I would have prepared for it. As it is, I sit, and wait, and stare at a life-size figurine of a tarantula perched near a jar of ballpoint pens. I donˇt think the spider was there last quarter. Something tells me that it was a gift from Trevor. After six years of working here, itˇs safe to say that Iˇve never met anyone who can kiss ass like he can. The only person who waxes poetic about Arthur even more is Trevorˇs wife.

I clear my throat. ¨If this is about the Verret account, Iˇve already〃

¨Itˇs about Bunny.〃

From head to toe, it feels like Iˇve been dunked in a pool of ice.

Arthur finally spins away from his monitor. Heˇs in his early seventies and should already be dipping his toes into retirement. Instead, he gets his rocks off on tormenting his employees and faults all of us for not clocking in before sunrise. Iˇve always figured that heˇs more likely to croak at his desk than he is to kick back on a beach somewhere with his feet in the sand. As he watches me now, from his throne of cracked leather and weathered plastic, I have the sinking sensation that heˇd rather I croak first.

I clear my throat again. ¨Apologies, Mr. Phister. Iˇm not sure what〃

¨Trevor filled me in, Daisy.〃

Of course he did.

¨And I have to tell you,〃 he goes on, ¨while Iˇd normally be in favor of letting my employees handle their private lives privately , Iˇve decided that it behooves me, in this particular case, to suggest that you take a temporary leave of absence.〃

My mouth actually falls open in surprise.

¨A vacation, perhaps.〃

A vacation? I sit up tall, trying desperately to take up more space when my petite frame often makes it so that everyone treats me like Iˇm something to be managed. As if Iˇm a doll or a child instead of a twenty-seven-old adult. ¨Mr. Phister, I appreciate the suggestion. Really, I do. But I have so much to get done that even if I wanted to take you up on this, it wouldnˇt benefit the firm.〃

He speaks over me as if I havenˇt voiced a perfectly valid concern. ¨Or you could use your sick days.〃

¨But Iˇm not sick.〃

¨Daisy.〃 His tone is haughty and dismissive and, dammit, I really, really want to take that stupid tarantula and smash it over his head. ¨Iˇm trying to keep this simple, yes? Youˇre clearly going through a lot〃

¨Iˇm more than capable of doing my job, sir.〃

¨So, Iˇll let this little display of attitude slide for the time being.〃

He did not just say that.

I almost turn to look over my shoulder, as if Iˇll find someone waiting there so I can blurt out, Do you hear this bullshit? but aside from Trevor, who probably has his ear pressed to the closed door, thereˇs no one around to commiserate with.

After being forced to retire early from figure skating, I was totally lost. Skating was all I knew, and it was ripped away from me in the blink of an eye. My dad, my peers, they all assumed that Iˇd go into coaching, and if not that, then at least a career in sports medicine or sports psychology or sports something .

I went into accounting instead.

Not because I particularly like iteven though Iˇm surprisingly good with numbersbut because of its stability. In a job like this one, no one is going to walk into my office and be all, ¨Oops, you broke a bone! Time to pick a new career.〃

Except this feels exactly like that, as if Iˇm on the verge of being shoved out the door.

Iˇm not proud of the way desperation makes me curl into myself in a last-ditch effort to make myself appear even smaller, a non-threat. Anything so that when I walk out of this office, I wonˇt be doing so without a job.

¨Iˇm sorry, Mr. Phister.〃 I force the words past the knot of frustration lodged in my throat. And by ¨force,〃 I mean that I choke on every syllable. It feels wrong on so many levels to apologize for taking a stand against the jerk-bags of humanity. Bunny would never, and yet here I am, swallowing my pride long enough to pathetically add, ¨If thereˇs something I can do to fix the situation that doesnˇt include me stepping away from the office . . .〃

¨Many of our accounts are with athletes, Daisy. And not just athletes as individuals but Boston-based sports teams. They trust us to be professional at all times, which includes how we conduct ourselves in the office as well as away from it. You seem incapable of upholding either standard.〃

Before I can get a word in, he angles his desktop monitor so that I can see the screen. Immediately, my heart careens into freefall.

In bold, black letters, the headline from a tabloid site stares back at me:

Loverˇs Spat?

Boston Bladesˇ Weston Cain Faces Off Against Puck Bunny Daisy Hall

Below the headline is a picture of us from the rink in Watertown. Just looking at it makes me want to throw up. Someone captured the moment right as West twisted away from me, his slightly blurry features darkened by hurt while I bear the full brunt of the cameraˇs focus; my cheeks are flushed, my desperation for him blatantly obvious in the shape of my outstretched arms. Itˇs abundantly clear that weˇve been arguing.

I donˇt know the last time West and I have disagreed on anything besides what to order for dinner, and now itˇs been forever memorialized online.

It suddenly feels hard to breathe.

¨Not a single one of our clients signed up to be exposed by someone named Bunny ,〃 Arthur continues stiffly. When I try to interject to defend myself, he shuts me up with a clipped, ¨I could fire you, Miss Hall.〃

¨Mr. Phister. Sir. I donˇt think〃

¨If I was really so inclined, I could even seek legal counsel and take you to courtbut I wonˇt. Unfortunately for you, this sort of grace comes with certain . . . Shall we say, expectations .〃

Expectations like being told to take a vacation or get sued.

Expectations like being told to shut uppermanently.

My talk with management for the Blades the other day was a mixed bag. A few people sent me sympathetic glances but on the whole, it was mandated that all of Bunnyˇs accounts be immediately deactivated. Some of the hard hitters even demanded that the team launch a formal investigation into how much of what Iˇve revealed online was repeated before me in confidence. There was discussion of violated NDAs, whether or not I could potentially face legal action, and if the Blades would be expected to stand by my side while I mucked about through the trenches.

By the end of the three-hour long meeting, it was wholly apparent that no one wanted to touch me with a ten-foot polemy father included. If thereˇs a silver lining to all this mess, itˇs that the decision I made years ago to keep West out of the loop will save him in the end.

He can hate me all he wants but at least his career isnˇt in jeopardy.

The fallout will come down on only me.

But while I felt, and still feel, pressure to keep quiet when it comes to the Bladesif only to avoid bringing any more trouble to my dad or WestI feel none of that while sitting here in this sterile office.

Arthur is still yammering on about expectations and consequences . A quick glance at the clock on his desk tells me that heˇs been talking at me for almost twenty minutes. Not once has he stopped to breathe. And maybe itˇs just thatthe sensation of being perpetually talked down to, of constantly being told to lower myself and make myself smaller in order to prop up the old boysˇ clubbut something inside me snaps.

¨Excuse me, Mr. Phister.〃

He blinks at me slowly. I have the feeling that even though heˇs been laying into me, he somehow managed to forget that Iˇve actually been present for his entire tirade. He bites off, ¨What, Daisy,〃 as if Iˇm somehow more inconvenient than a shit stain on the bottom of his shoe.

Yeah. Iˇm about done here.

I say, ¨No need to worry about the accounts.〃

When I rise to my feet, he does the same, almost knocking the tarantula figurine clear off his desk in his haste to stand. ¨What are you talking about? Of course weˇre going to worry. Theyˇre our clients. Some of them have been with us for over a decade. Which you should have considered before you decided to completely disregard the reputation of this firm〃

¨Mr. Phister, you donˇt need to worry about them because I quit .〃