Page 167 of The Wild Card


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Jordan just watches with a satisfied smile.

CHAPTER 84

JORDAN

“So,”my father says at lunch a week later. “Good game last night.”

We’re on a rooftop patio that the Storm’s equipment managers recommended. It’s a warm day in late May and the sky is blue and endless, with the breeze in my hair and the sounds of the city rising from the street below. People glance over and smile at us, and I nod back with my own smile.Go Storm,someone called across the restaurant when we walked in, and I laughed and waved back.

“We lost.” Four to three, so it wasn’t a shutout, thankfully. And we won the two games before that in the third round, so the guys are still motivated and eager. They still have the right mentality, that winning is completely achievable.

Two more games to win, and we’re on to the final round of the Stanley Cup. We are so,soclose.

“We lost,” he agrees, looking out at the skyline. “But it was still a good game. And Owens didn’t let Driedger get in his head.”

His phone beeps and he frowns, pulling it out to silence it.

“Sorry. I thought I put it on Do Not Disturb.” He taps something on the screen before slipping it away again, and when he looks back at me, he blinks. “What?”

I’m in shock. “Since when do you use the Do Not Disturb function?”

Maybe it comes out in my typical flat tone, but I don’t mean itto hurt him. Work is everything to my dad. His team, all his business deals, keeping up with his contacts in the hockey and business communities.

His mouth flattens. “From that reaction, I probably should have been using it for a while.” He clears his throat. “That was a fun game you organized last week.”

“How are you feeling?” I ask lightly. “I’m shocked you could walk the next day.”

He lets out a bark of laughter. “I may be old, but I still have it.”

I turn away, hiding a smile as I look out at the skyline.

“And that was a very nice thing you did for Tate,” he adds.

I caution a glance at him. Does he know how I feel about the Storm’s head coach? He wears a small, knowing smile.

“That’s the kind of thing you do for someone you love,” he says, like it’s so simple. “And that’s a very pretty necklace. Matching earrings, too?” He whistles before giving me a sly look. “I overheard Tate asking the guys if they have a favorite jeweler.”

Busted. Instead of wanting to disappear into the floor, though, I feel like smiling. I think about what happened after the game with all the ex-NHL guys, when Tate pulled me into his private shower off his office with a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet.

“Do you think it’s a mistake?” I ask, watching his neutral expression. He’s so good at masking his feelings. Maybe that’s where I learned it.

“That’s not for me to answer.” A pause. “Are you still giving him the team?”

The words catch in my throat. “I don’t know. It would probably be the best decision for the organization. He’s a natural leader. Everyone loves him. He has the expertise and charisma to lead.”

“And you, Jordan? What about you?”

I want to stay. I don’t care about legal ownership of the team, but now that I’ve had a taste of what it’s like to be a part ofsomething, I don’t want to leave. I love working with Tate and the team and everyone here at the Storm. I love using my power to help the staff get what they need to do their jobs better. I love helping them win.

“I don’t know,” I say, because I’m still afraid to dream big, even after the past few months. Even after Tate has told me I belong here and I’m meant to be a part of this.

At UBC, I thought I was part of that team’s world, too. I can tell myself this situation is different, that Tate and the Storm are different, but there’s no guarantee.

Our food arrives, and my father and I discuss our strategy for the next two games.

“Connor McKinnon is back in the league,” I tell him. Hazel’s asshole ex and probably the only person on the planet Rory Miller hates. Tate sent him back to the farm team a few seasons ago and then traded him elsewhere. “If his team makes it to the finals and Rory’s knee is in good enough shape to play, that could be a problem.”

My dad nods. “Good to think about. We’ll deal with it when we get there.”