She held my eyes, assessing me.
“I need someone who can think fast and adapt faster. Someone flexible, who won’t panic when grown men act nineteen.”
She flipped a page. “In your last role, you coordinated multiparty legal meetings, fielded clients’ panic, handled sensitive documents, and managed workflows across multiple attorneys. You weren’t just assisting; you were running triage, exactly what playoff hockey demands.”
That landed sharp, validating what I was worth. “Office Assistant” didn’t cover half of what I did. I ran that place like a manager, and Sam never let me forget it.
I glanced at the page she’d flipped to. “Is the travel part going to be regular? Or more...crisis-based?”
“Should be regular.” She tapped a corner of the résumé. “You worked with the athletic travel office in college. It was during summers only, but it tells me you’ve done fast-moving coordination. That muscle memory counts.”
It had been years. A dusty résumé bullet point I’d almost forgotten.
“You really did your homework,” I said, then winced. The words had slipped out before I could stop them.
But Maria laughed warmly, and I felt the tightness in my shoulders finally drop since I met her.
“We’re meeting a few other candidates this week,” she said evenly. “But I appreciate your clarity and your confidence; that goes a long way.”
We wrapped up with a few more questions. I asked about the playoff travel schedule, but she didn’t expand. She made no promises, but a decision was coming by the end of the week.
I walked out of the conference room, trying not to hyperventilate.
As Maria accompanied me to the elevator, I hesitated.Now or never, Mel. Just rip off the band-aid.
“Quick question. Did I—was that the men’s room I walked into earlier?”
Maria blinked. “Excuse me?”
“There was no sign on the door, then urinals and...a man.” I tried and failed to forget about the collision or his intense brown eyes.
She let out a warm laugh. “Ah, the mystery bathroom doors. We ordered the signs to be replaced last week; it seems they’re still not ready yet.”
“Good to know,” I muttered. “I didn’t break anything, only my ego.”
I left the building with a nervous energy you only get after stepping into something new.I had no idea if I’d get the job, but I’d made an impression, hopefully not one involving plumbing.
Then it hit as if a delay in my nervous system finally caught up: I’d possibly travel with the team. Withhim.
I pushed the thought down or tried to. This was Tahoe West, a real-deal, pro hockey organization. Traveling with them was ridiculously thrilling, and it felt right. It was the type of movement I’d been craving but not diving into headfirst. It triggered every part of me that wanted change, a fresh start, and a chance to see the world away from the work-life hamster wheel. And definitely, absolutely, unrelated to a certain broad-shouldered, warm-eyed hockey coach.
I texted Sam, who’d been waiting on this interview news with the eyes of a hawk circling a field mouse.
Me:Guess who walked out of the men’s bathroom…straight into the coach. Literally. Kill me.
Sam:WHAT?! You didn’t tell me you were applying to be a plumber. First stop: Men’s quarters.\*laughing emoji\*
I groaned, tossed my phone on the couch, and sat down. I might’ve nailed the interview, but I may be remembered byMr. Hot Chocolate Eyes as Bathroom Girl. Great intro to Tahoe West.
I stirred the soup while letting the past six weeks play through my head like a reel. After that ice-skating debacle, I’d done a deep dive on Golden State Arena and the Tahoe West Panthers. It brought back college memories—Lake Tahoe trips, snow that melted in your gloves, and ski weekends that were really an excuse for hot chocolate and gossip.
The glossy Tahoe West posters had drawn my attention. I half joked, half leaped on Andrew’s lead that I should apply there. Turns out, the crash on the ice was my dramatic entrance.
Now I was a Tahoe West employee.
Yesterday, Maria had called. “We’re looking for a candidate who can handle playoff triage without flinching,” she’d said, her voice steady and warm. “Your résumé and interview stood out as you’ve done this kind of fast-paced coordination before, and we’d like you to join the Tahoe West Panthers organization.”
I nearly dropped my phone before managing a professional, “That’s wonderful news! I’m happy to accept it and look forward to getting started.”
