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CAROLINE

A flash of panic shoots through me as I glance at the time—I’m four minutes late to the broadcast team meeting. And even though everyone is still mingling and it technically hasn’t started, I’m already angry at myself.

I slide into an empty seat at the long table, taking a moment to catch my breath and glance at my reflection in a compact mirror.

My cheeks are flushed from rushing, my eyes still puffy from last night’s poor decisions, and the slicked-back low bun and swipe of lip gloss I barely had time for aren’t doing me any favors.

Bryan claps his hands to signal the start of the meeting, and I immediately shove everything under my seat except my notebook and pen, forcing myself to focus.

As the hour ticks by, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But it never does.

Even when the Storm’s public relations manager, Linda, takes her turn to speak—and I’m literally biting my nails on the edge of my seat—the elephant in the room goes unacknowledged.

No one mentions what happened between Rhett and me during the interview, or the reaction it sparked on social media after the game.

Social media.

The image of those girls outside Rhett’s apartment flashes through my mind, just like it has a thousand times since I sprinted away from them—and from him. I know what I saw. I know what they saw. The only question is whether the universe is on my side today.

I haven’t had a second to check social media since they took that photo.

Part of that is because I’m terrified to.

But for now, I’m clinging to the fragile hope that I imagined it.

Maybe it was just the reflection from a passing car.

Maybe they didn’t take a photo. Or maybe—if they did—they’ll have the decency to keep it to themselves.

Or maybe they accidentally got hit by a bus—not fatally, of course—on their way home, and their phones were destroyed?—

“All right, I think that’ll do it for today,” Bryan says with another clap, snapping me from my spiral. “Thank you, everyone. We’ve got an exciting couple of days in Vegas coming up for the next game. Looking forward to it.”

Chairs scrape back as people stand, the room quickly filling with chatter. I’m just reaching for my bag when Bryan’s voice stops me.

“Caroline?”

“Yes?” My head snaps up.

“Please hang around for a few minutes. We have a few things to discuss.”

My mouth parts slightly, and I realize who the we is when Bryan steps aside and I spot Linda behind him, her tight-lipped PR smile polished to perfection.

“Sure,” I manage. “No problem.”

It takes only a minute for the rest of the team to file out. Then, without a word, Bryan and Linda motion for me to follow them into the hall.

We walk barely ten feet—though it feels like ten miles—before Bryan opens a door to another conference room and gestures me inside.

But I don’t get far before I realize the room isn’t empty.

My eyes land on Amy first, and my heart leaps into my throat. Because it’s never a good sign to get called into a surprise meeting with the head of HR.

Then I look to the side—and freeze.

“Dad?”

He sits a few feet from Amy, tapping his knuckles against the table. The look on his face—heavy with disappointment—is all too familiar. It’s the same one he used to wear when I got in trouble as a kid and he was searching for the right words to scold me. It slices me open from the inside out.

And then comes the final blow.

When I step further into the room, I see the last person seated at the table.

There it is.

The other shoe.

“Rhett.”

My voice is so low I’m not even sure it’s audible—but somehow, he hears it.

“Care—”

“Sutton, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll—for once in your life—not speak,” my dad cuts in, his jaw clenched.

“Dad, I?—”

“You too, kid,” he snaps, cutting me off.

I bite down on my lip, a rock settling in my stomach. My gaze drops to the floor as I try to collect my thoughts.

“She’s not a kid,” someone says clearly.

It takes me a beat to realize it’s Rhett. I glance at him just in time to see my dad fix him with a cold, unreadable stare.

A throat clears.

I turn to see Bryan and Linda already seated, watching me expectantly.

“Can you please join us, Caroline?” Linda asks.

“Yes,” I nod quickly, taking the only available seat—unfortunately, right next to Rhett. I can feel his gaze on me, but I keep my eyes locked on Linda.

“So,” she begins, folding her hands, “no point tiptoeing around it. Our entire fanbase already knows the truth.”

Bryan clicks a remote, and a screen at the front of the room lights up.

I nearly choke.

Photos of Rhett and me from this morning flash onto the screen—somehow looking even worse than I feared.

No, no, no runs on a loop in my brain, but I can’t get the words out.

Just as I open my mouth, Bryan clicks again.

Now the screen is showing a headline—plastered right across the homepage of the biggest sports news site there is:

There’s a Storm Brewing! Texas Storm’s New Captain, Rhett Sutton, Spotted with Coach Barrett’s Daughter.

I barely process it before he clicks again, showing another article.

Could the Texas Storm’s Season Already Be on Thin Ice with Things Heating Up Between Rhett Sutton and His Head Coach’s Daughter?

Click.

The NHL and Fans Questioning Rhett Sutton’s Captaincy After Romance Rumors Prove True.

Click .

The NHL’s Newest Rinkside Reporter Is Getting to Know Her Team’s Captain… Intimately.

Click.

One of the NHL’s Favorite Playboys Strikes Again! But This Time, He’s Keeping It in the Family?!

Click.

Rhett Sutton and His Most Scandalous Fling’s Relationship Timeline: Meet His New Not-So-Mystery Girl!

The clicking speeds up. Social media posts. Comments. Reactions. A flood.

I let my eyes glaze over. I’ve seen enough.

“I think we get the point,” Rhett finally says.

“Well, I sure hope so,” Linda replies coolly. “Because the two of you have created a serious problem. Not just for yourselves—but for the entire Texas Storm organization.”

“We didn’t do anything,” I manage. “I know it looks bad, but?—”

“Oh, it looks worse than bad,” Linda cuts in sharply.

“But it’s not what it looks like,” I press. “We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time?—”

“The wrong place being outside Rhett’s apartment,” she says, “and the wrong time being your walk of shame out of it?”

“Hey, you don’t talk to her like that,” Rhett says, voice low.

“Unfortunately, it’s my job to talk like this,” Linda snaps. “I handle the Storm’s public image. And you’ve both done some serious damage. People are questioning Rhett’s leadership, Caroline’s qualifications, Coach Barrett’s integrity—shall I go on?”

Silence.

I squeeze my eyes shut, take a breath, and then open them again. “Bryan… Dad… nothing happened. Nothing has ever happened between me and Rhett. This is just a huge misunderstanding. I need you to believe me.”

Silence again—until Rhett speaks .

“She’s telling the truth.”

I glance at him, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. His gaze is fixed on my dad, who refuses to look back.

“Caroline…” Bryan finally sighs. “Look, I believe you.”

“You do?”

His lips pull to the side. “I certainly want to.”

My shoulders slump instantly.

“But unfortunately, that doesn’t really matter.”

“He’s right,” Linda says, her tone softening. “Because no matter what actually happened… this ”—she gestures to the screen—“is how it looks. And now we have to fix it.”

A few seconds pass.

Rhett pushes back his chair.

“Look, this is all on me. Just deduct whatever fine you need from my salary to take care of the media mess and take my ‘C’ already. Give it to Wiz or Rags or any of the other guys that deserve it more—whatever. Just call it done.”

He starts to get up, but my dad stops him.

“Sit down.”

Rhett raises his brows. My dad points firmly to his chair. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that, it’s not that simple.”

“Exactly,” Linda says. “You were just named captain. If we take that away now, the organization looks unstable. Coach Barrett’s credibility tanks.”

“Okay,” Rhett mutters. “So how do we fix it?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” I say quietly.

Linda and Rhett both turn to me.

“You do?”

I nod, my voice low as I rise to my feet. “I’ll go pack up my desk.”

Before I can move, Rhett grabs my wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” I whisper. “Before they fire me.”

“Why would they fire you?”

“The fact that you even have to ask shows how blind you are to your privilege,” I say, leaning in closer. “When it’s between the superstar hockey player bringing in millions and the replaceable rinkside reporter? I’m the easy sacrifice.”

“Caroline, that’s not necessary,” Bryan says. “In fact, we can’t have you do that.”

“Fine. Just toss it all, then. I don’t need any of it.”

“Nobody’s cleaning out your desk,” Bryan replies gently. “Because you still work here.”

I tilt my head. “What?”

“Neither of you are being relieved of your duties.”

I glance at Rhett. He looks just as confused.

“I don’t understand.”

Bryan gestures for me to sit, then nods to Linda.

“Caroline,” she says carefully, “how do you think it would look if you got fired while Rhett faced no consequences?”

“Not great,” I admit. “But people would get over it.”

“Maybe,” she concedes. “If you were just another reporter. But you’re not. You’re the coach’s daughter. People will care.”

“And beyond that,” Bryan says, “we care.” I look up. His smile is faint but genuine. “You’ve worked too hard for this, Caroline. I won’t let it all go down over a misunderstanding.”

I swallow hard.

“So what happens now?” Rhett asks.

“We ignore it?”

“Not possible,” Linda says.

“Deny it?” I ask.

“Worse,” she replies. “It’ll only keep the rumors alive.”

“Then what?”

My dad groans. Bryan shifts. I glance between them.

Linda speaks again. “We take control of the narrative. ”

“Meaning?”

“We reframe it,” she says. “Turn something scandalous into something sensational.”

“Okay…but how?” I ask. “I mean…how could me and Rhett hooking up be anything good?”

A sound like a muffled cough—or maybe a choke—comes from Rhett beside me. I ignore it.

“Well, it’s really quite simple,” Linda says, lowering her voice like she’s delivering the twist in a crime drama. “‘Rhett Sutton and the Storm’s newest reporter caught the morning after a one-night entanglement! It’s true—Captain of the team having a secret affair with the head coach’s daughter!’”

“Entanglement?” Rhett mutters under his breath. My dad shoots him a warning glare, but Linda doesn’t even flinch.

“It doesn’t look good,” she continues. “But if we shift the nature of your relationship from fleeting and risqué to committed and wholesome? We may just have a shot at turning this entire story around. Not a band-aid fix, but a genuine PR win. We could take the broken pieces of the Texas Storm’s current image and rebuild it into something stronger. ”

“I’m sorry,” I say, leaning forward, brows drawn together. “I just want to make sure I’m following… When you talk about making me and Rhett’s… relationship… look committed…” I pause, struggling. “Are you suggesting we let the public think we’re… together? Like, we… actually like each other?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is dating, Cub—Caroline,” Rhett chokes out. “Not that it matters, because there’s no way she’s actually suggesting that.” He glances around the room.

“Right?”

“I’m not suggesting you pretend to date,” Linda says evenly.

I exhale in relief and reach for a water bottle, taking a long drink .

“That’s not enough,” she continues. “The only way to fully restore public trust and reshape this story into something positive…”

She pauses. My brows raise.

“…is for the two of you to get married.”