Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
He looks slightly peeved I’m ending it, but I gave him more than enough. I smile and move farther into the tunnel, stepping back to allow the players to pass. I hold out my fist and each player who walks by bumps it, most with grins on their exhausted faces.
“Drake,” I hear Eddie’s voice, and I turn to see the big goalie coming off the ice. “Can I get a few minutes with you?”
Oh, shit.
Drake has his helmet tucked under his arm, his stick in that same hand. His long hair is pulled back but soaked with sweat. He’s clearly irritated to be singled out by a reporter, and I personally know he wants nothing to do with the media.
I slide that way along the wall, standing right behind Deebo.
“You looked great out there,” Eddie says, holding the microphone tipped toward his own mouth. “How are the ice legs?”
Drake wipes a hand from his forehead back and huffs out a breath. The microphone angles his way. “I feel good. Everything’s strong.”
He starts to step away but Eddie asks, “Does your return to the league signify that all the rumors regarding the betting scandal have been put to rest?”
I see Drake’s free hand curl into a first, his expression turning thunderous, and without thought, I leap forward and into the conversation.
“We have absolute faith in Drake McGinn.” Eddie is surprised to see me there at his side and has to offer me the microphone. “He’s a top-notch goalie, and we’re lucky to have him with us.”
Drake takes the opportunity to join the other players walking down the tunnel. Eddie looks crushed until he spies Coen. He’s another player who’s newsworthy from more than just a professional angle.
“Coen,” Eddie calls out. “A few words for WRKT Pittsburgh?”
I stand poised, ready to jump in to Coen’s aid if he needs me, but he gives the reporter a generous smile. “Sure.”
I exhale my relief. Our media department does a good job handling player interviews, but I didn’t want any of my guys ambushed. My worry appears for naught when Coen laughs at something Eddie asks.
He’s clearly got this in hand.
I turn away and run right into a wall.
A padded wall.
My eyes go up, up, up to see Drake glaring down at me. “I don’t need you fucking defending me,” he says through gritted teeth.
To my surprise, Callum is there—must have been walking along with the players—and he steps in close to us with his voice lowered. His eyes are pinned on Drake. “Hey… how about you have a little fucking respect for your boss.”
Drake turns his ire toward Callum, and the last thing I need is this turning volatile in front of a news camera.
I step between them, forcing Drake to look down at me. In my iciest, no-nonsense, I’ll fire your ass tone, I say, “If you have a problem with how I do things for my players and this organization, then you schedule a time with my assistant to meet me privately. You do not dare chastise or speak to me like that again in public. Are we clear?”
Drake McGinn is such a crapshoot when it comes to emotions and actions, I half expect him to quit the team right there. He’s so prickly about league and team authority, I’m sure it grates on him that I’ve got the right to put him in his place.
Instead, I get a curt nod as he growls, “Oh, I understand all right.”
He storms off down the hall to the locker room.
“You okay?” Callum asks.
I roll my eyes at him. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve dealt with bigger assholes than him before.”
Callum chuckles. “I suppose you have.”
Truly, a grumpy hockey player is nothing compared to some of the greedy, manipulative, lying assholes I’ve dealt with across the negotiation table.
♦
I knock out a few errands on the way back to my office, including a quick stop to see if our new VP of operations needs anything from me. It’s his second week on the job, but he seems to be acclimating well.
I have meetings at the Norcross Holdings offices this afternoon, but I’m going to take advantage of the next two free hours I have to review a prospectus about a new investment opportunity on the verge of going public. While I use an entire team of financial advisors to help me manage the billions under my control, I always read every prospectus that our board will consider. It’s tedious, but it’s part of the job.
I pass Tina’s desk. “I’m going into DND. No calls or interruptions.”
Because if I get the slightest bit distracted from this prospectus, I’ll never finish it.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tina says. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good,” I assure her and head into my office. As soon as the door is closed, I settle back against it for stability, leaning over to take off one of my heels.