Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“I love it. Do you want me to call?” Hemi asks.
“I can handle it. If I need any follow-up, I’ll let you know.” I need to prove I’m capable of handling this on my own. Otherwise it just looks like nepotism. My dad worked so hard for his career, and I don’t want anyone to think I didn’t do the work.
“Sounds good.” Hemi smiles warmly. “This is shaping up to be our best one yet.”
CHAPTER 5
HAMMER
It’s a home game tonight, and we’re all in our box to watch Toronto play New York. Flip Madden, Rix’s brother who plays center, has just gotten a penalty, which is unsurprising since his personal nemesis, Connor Grace, plays for New York. But one second I’m pissed about Flip’s penalty, and the next I’m freaking out because Scarlet Reed, the actress, is sitting three rows back from center ice. She’s with another movie star. I can’t even.
“I heard she was coming out this way.” Hemi taps her lip thoughtfully and pulls out her phone. “I wonder how long she’s staying.”
“Is she filming locally?” I ask. “I wonder if she’ll come to more games while she’s here. Wouldn’t that be so cool?”
“What do I know her from?” Tally asks.
“She’s been in a couple of movies lately, but The Way We Weren’t was my favorite show during my teens.” I watched it every week like it was my religion, and I was so disappointed when they ended it a year and a half ago. But I have all the episodes downloaded, so I can binge them whenever I want.
“Oh, yes! I started watching that this summer,” Tally says.
Hemi’s eyes pop as she scans her screen. “Oh wow. She’s here filming through the beginning of June.”
“I wonder where in Toronto they’re filming,” I muse. If the Terror makes the playoffs, she might come to one of those games.
“High Park for sure.” Hemi’s face lights up. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“That I might meet her and get a picture with her and fangirl like a complete loser and be embarrassed by my fangirling?” I ask.
“Yes, and also, she’ll be in town for the gala,” Hemi says.
I grab her arm. “Do you think she’d attend?”
“She’s a hockey fan, and it’s a charity event. It wouldn’t hurt to extend an invitation,” Hemi says. “Plus, we have the night with a hockey player auction, and you know that’ll be a huge hit.”
“I don’t want to get my hopes up, but that would be so cool. How hard would it be to get a contact number for her?”
“I wonder if Hollis still talks to her. They used to date when he played for LA,” Shilpa muses. “Maybe you could ask him to call in a favor?”
“Uh, yeah, but I don’t know much about how that ended.” I’m aware they dated, but he’s never so much as mentioned her, and I’ve never asked. It’s an unwritten rule. His life is already public enough, and I know better than to pry. He doesn’t even know about my star crush on her. The media portrayed it as an amicable breakup, but who knows if that’s true?
“I’ll see what kind of strings I can pull for a contact,” Hemi says.
“Can I try first?” I ask. “It’s gala related, and I want to keep that off your plate since you have enough going on.” Getting Scarlet to attend would be the icing on the gala cake.
“Absolutely. I love that you’re making this yours.” She squeezes my arm.
I refocus on the game, my mind spinning as I ponder this new twist. Hollis rotates onto the ice, and Tristan pats him on the shoulder, taking his seat on the bench. Hollis misses an easy pass. It’s clear by his expression and the tight set of his shoulders that he’s frustrated. Especially when New York ends up with the puck.
“Oh, shit. That’s not great.” We’re already down by one goal. I bet my dad is pissed for letting it through.
Hollis heads for the crease, but Kodiak Bowman is on the same trajectory. Hollis spins, giving Bowman his left side instead of his right as they collide. Sticks go flying, and Hollis gets an elbow to the face. He goes down, his helmet hitting the ice with a crack that echoes through the arena. I stand, along with the rest of the girls, as the game is stopped.
“That did not look good,” Rix says.
“That was a hard hit,” Hemi agrees.
I cover my mouth with my hand. “I really hope he’s okay.”
My dad is right there, kneeling beside Hollis with his hand on his chest as the ref skates over.
The team doctor takes the ice, and after another minute of back and forth, Hollis gets to his feet and skates to the gate with the assistance of the team doctor and a ref. He disappears down the hall. I hope he’s not out of the game completely.