“I know. I’m sorry. Can you do something for me?” I take a deep breath. “I need you to call a press conference.”
CHAPTER 93
JORDAN
That afternoon,I stand outside the press room, hands shaking as I reread the statement I’ve prepared.
The head of PR pops her head out the door. “They’re ready.”
My chin dips in a nod. I might puke. I’m still doing this, though. For Tate. For Bea. For my team. For women everywhere who want to work in sports.
I step into the press room. Cameras flash and the reporters start asking questions all at once. I have one foot on the bottom step up to the platform when a hand lands on my shoulder.
Rory’s at my side. Behind him, the team filters into the room. I don’t understand. The assembled press also appear confused.
“Excuse me, Jordan,” Rory says with a smile before he walks up the steps to the platform and takes a seat at the table in front of the microphone.
The guys follow him, walking past me with friendly nods, and take their places standing behind him. They don’t seem upset. More people enter the room. The entire team is here? And the farm team. The platform is full of people. People stand on the steps, congregate in the area off the side.
“Actually,” Rory says to the reporters, “can you all move back to make room? Thanks.”
The reporters murmur and shuffle back asmorepeople from the Storm organization enter the room. Accountants, operationsteam, trainers. Security. The medical staff, including Georgia, who gives me a quick squeeze on the arm as she passes. The Zamboni drivers. A couple bartenders I worked with during that game.
“Good afternoon.” Rory gives everyone a friendly nod. “I’m here today to address rumors of an alleged romantic relationship between Jordan Hathaway and Coach Tate Ward.”
Oh god. I start shaking my head, trying to get his attention. What the fuck is Rory doing?
Movement at the side of the stage has Rory pausing as someone steps onto the end.
My father. He never attends press conferences, but no one except for the reporters looks surprised to see him.
“Hey, Ross,” Rory says, like he expected him, before he turns back to his papers and speaks into the mic. “On behalf of the entire Storm organization, we encourage anyone who has an issue with Jordan’s position on the Storm or her personal life to fuck right off.”
My mouth drops. Someone in the press pool gasps. A few people behind Rory smile, including Luca and Hayden.
“Jordan is hardworking, determined, and has an exceptional aptitude for both hockey and the psychology of team dynamics,” Rory continues. “She is directly responsible for acquiring Carey Colworth and Rasmus Hallstrom, for Warren Kilgour’s re-entry into the league, as well as numerous trades to create cap space. When my injury took me out, Jordan used analytics and creativity to find new lineup combinations. She organized team bonding events to help us recover from the mental beating of ten losses in a row, and brought us from barely making the playoffs with a wild card spot to where we are today: game seven of the last round of the Stanley Cup finals.”
Rory looks up from his papers as the press room waits in silence.
“Beyond that, she has made every effort to learn this organization. Her philosophy is that every single member of the organizationis important to our success—just like Ross Sheridan. Just like Coach Tate Ward. Jordan Hathaway is the reason we’re stepping onto the ice tonight.”
He looks over at me. They all are. Every member of the Storm organization. My heart beats up into my throat.
“Jordan, you’re a valuable member of the Storm family, and regardless of what the assholes online say, you belong here.”
My eyes sting. So this is what it’s like, to feel not just like I fit in but like I’m meant to be here. It’s not unfamiliar, either. It’s a sensation that’s been growing since January, since I started with the team.
These people are my family, and I’d do anything for them. Win or lose tonight, I don’t regret a second. I’d do it all again.
“The Vancouver Storm,” Rory continues, turning his attention back to the press, “will not tolerate discriminatory or sexist remarks against women in sports. We will continue to encourage, support, and hire women. Our message to the press, the fans, and the league is this: you are either with us or against us. Thank you.”
He ignores the rush of questions, and when he reaches me on the edge of the stage, he wraps me in a tight hug. Right in front of everyone.
“Thanks,” he says, pulling back to smile down at me. “For everything.”
“My pleasure, Rory. Honestly.” I blink back emotion from my eyes. “Every second of it.”
The press room goes quiet. They knew I was going to make a statement. Everyone waits, watching, while I move up the steps and take the seat Rory just vacated.
