Anna sighed wearily. “Well, have fun then...”
“Nope.” Matt’s gaze shifted to her. “Everyone who has direct contact with the team. Management, medical staff, physical therapists, even the mascot. Everyone.”
“What?”
Two hours later, that question seemed to be on everyone’s mind as they squeezed into Conference Room B, which, while large, seemed confined for almost fifty people. Especially when they were supposed to sit in a circle of chairs.
“Holy crap, what nonsense.” This came from Blake Ford, the team’s second, still very young goalie, whom Lucas always claimed could become brilliant if he stopped being an arrogant wimp (Melody had been there, otherwise the words would have been choice). At the same time, Lucas was glad the young hotshot wasn’t ready yet because, otherwise, he’d take his job.
Unfortunately, Ford didn’t speak quietly enough.
“Ford, no bullshit,” Coach Gray barked, sitting in front of the circle of chairs. “We’re a damn team and you haven’t been acting like it for the last two days! Instead, there’s been a lot of yelling in the locker room.”
“And now in Meeting Room B,” Anna mumbled, though her head sank between her shoulders. She had been the cause of all the yelling, after all.
Jack chuckled softly, but thankfully, the coach didn’t hear it.
Gray looked around, frowning, and then asked loudly, “Where are Alvarez, Moreau, and Fox?”
“Still at the kindergarten,” Dax said. “They...”
“We’re here,” came a dark voice from the doorway — and goosebumps scurried down Anna’s spine. She didn’t look up. She didn’t want to face Lucas. Just hearing his voice did terrible things to her stomach, and she imagined she could feel his gaze on her and breathe in his scent.
She glanced at her hands and noticed out of the corner of her eye how he, Leon, Fox, and Lucy sat in four empty seats directly across from her.
Great.
She swallowed hard and was grateful to concentrate on the coach.
“So, kids,” he said gruffly, “I’ve heard that 50 percent of my players have been acting like Neanderthals. And all because of a few secrets.”
Anna stiffened, and now she couldn’t stop herself from looking at Lucas... and she flinched when his gaze met hers. He was staring at her. Not even paying attention to the coach, just looking at her.
The lump in her throat doubled in size and she quickly looked away.
“This isn’t good, guys! We’re in the middle of the playoffs. Our dynamic and our connection with each other are what separates us from other teams and what will damn well win us the Stanley Cup. We can’t get past the second round if you don’t get along and trust each other!”
“Sorry.” A man in a suit, sitting unnaturally straight in his chair, who was almost certainly Gareth Clark, the Hawks’ second owner with Penny Clark, tilted his head thoughtfully. “I don’t understand why we have to be here.” He gestured to his sister and Thomas Lyle, the Hawks’ general manager.
“I’m glad you volunteered, Clark! You can start,” the coach determined firmly.
“Start with what?” Clark asked, irritated.
“By telling us a secret! It isn’t right that we spend every day together, entrusting our lives to each other, but not our secrets! I’ve had enough. We’re going to get everything out in the open that we’ve been hiding once and for all. So, Clark, come on! Earn our trust.”
He raised a single eyebrow coldly. “I have no secrets.”
Penny laughed loudly and patted her brother on the shoulder. “Such a ridiculous liar. But it’s okay, Gare. I’ll save you and start because I think it’s a great idea. Guys, I told the team chef I’m allergic to Brussels sprouts so that they’d be completely removed from the menu. But that’s a lie. I just hate them so much. I’m sorry if I ruined anyone's dinner!’
She raised her hand apologetically.
A few laughed, but Charkov looked at her darkly. He was obviously a Brussels sprout fan.
“Wonderful,” the coach said. “Next, please. Matt?”
Matt grimaced and glanced at Dax. “I was the one who scratched your car. I was on the phone with Maddie and wasn’t paying attention.”
“I knew it!” Dax replied, narrowing his eyes.
