Once the season begins, we’ll be spending more time at the offices in the practice arena. Most of the staff are already based there, but the Robertsons were nothing if not pretentious, so they had huge, ornate offices at the arena. Jacob prefers to work here in the summer since it’s closer to his condo. It’s a longer drive for me, but I don’t mind. I love summertime in Colorado.
I park my car and turn off the engine, but hesitate to get out. The anxiety I’ve been trying to ignore is rearing its ugly head. That tightness across my shoulder is back, along with the squidgy feeling in my stomach. The memories of my brother-in-law’s contemptuous comments about women as sports owners float through my head. They’re playing in my mind like a horror movie reel. It’s not that I believe Tad’s misogynistic garbage, not really. Intellectually, I know better, but my fears seem to feed my self-doubt, regardless.
I hate how my shoulders feel like steel bands are holding them in place. I’m almost hunched over the steering wheel. My jaw aches as my mind struggles to regain control of my thoughts. The doubts persist. What if I can’t do this? What if I am terrible at it? What if no one respects my decisions? After all, what do I have to show for experience? Oh, right, Iwas a great hockey mom for fifteen years. Yeah, that’s some fabulous work experience.
Stop! I’m the owner of an NHL hockey team. I’m here, and they’re gone.
I’m not about to let them criticize me from the grave. God knows they did enough of that while they were alive. Instead, I do what I’ve always done. I pull on my mental armor, square my shoulders, and pretend I’ve got my shit together.
Fuck you, Kurt. Fuck you, Tad. You don’t get to win.
I grab my purse, briefcase, and Abby’s leash, determination riding me hard. At least I’ve got my Abby. She’s always a comforting presence. I adopted her from a rescue after the kids left for college, but honestly, she’s the one who rescued me. Yes, I know it’s cliché, but it’s true.
She’s a Heinz-57 mix. She resembles a Golden Retriever but is smaller in stature and has that distinctive black German Shepherd nose. It’s cute as hell! She’s six years old now, but when I first laid eyes on her, she was a ten-week-old ball of adorable golden fluff. I lost my heart the moment I held her, and I’ve never looked back.
“Let’s go, Abs,” I call, as I step out of the car and tug on her leash. I love watching her floofy, blonde backside sway as she prances over to the door. Yes, prances like a prissy princess. It’s hilarious and always makes me smile.
I head into work with a bounce in my step and a smile on my face. It’s going to be a great day. I’ll make sure of it.
Chapter Two
Damon
I’m enjoying the incredible view of the Rocky Mountains from my new office window when a stunning vintage ’67 cherry red Camaro SS catches my eye as it pulls into the parking lot and parks near the arena entrance. Damn, that’s one hell of a car. It’s beautifully restored and in mint condition—truly a beauty. I’ve had a passion for vintage cars since my childhood. My dad and I used to work on them together when I was younger. Good times.
The car door swings open, and a woman steps out—wow. One look at her and the car’s a distant memory. Sunlight catches her wavy auburn hair, giving it a golden glow. Oh God, a redhead? Ever since my rookie year crush on the team owner’s wife, I’ve had a thing for redheads. Captivated, I watch her stride toward the arena.
Black heels highlight her long legs, giving her hips a seductive sway. She’s curvy in all the right places—perfect breasts, gorgeous ass. Everything I adore in a beautiful woman, yet she carries herself with such class. She’s dressed in a black pencil skirt and a blue-gray blouse adorned with a string of pearls. There’s an air of classic elegance about her.
My God, she’s gorgeous.
When was the last time a woman made me stop and stare? It’s been too long. I can’t take my eyes off her. A smile curves my lips; there is nothinghotter than a confident woman. At her side is a four-legged bundle of caramel fur gazing at its owner with adoration.
Yeah, buddy, I agree. She’s a total smokeshow.
I pull my eyes away with reluctance. I can’t afford to focus on her right now as much as I’d like to. I have a damn meeting in less than half an hour. I shake myself out from under her spell and scan my new office, searching for a distraction. Now isn’t the time to be sidetracked by that kind of trouble.
I finally have a chance to prove myself as a General Manager, and that’s my top priority. I’ve worked too hard for the opportunity to make a real difference. This team needs me, and I can help take them to a new level. It’s been a goal of mine since my playing days, and the Wolves present a genuine opportunity to make it happen.
The phone rings, and I seize the interruption like a drowning man gasping for air—anything to get my mind back on track.
“Damon Hawk,” I answer briskly.
“Hey, Dad. How’s the first day going?” My eighteen-year-old daughter’s voice greets me. Alexandria, or Lexi to me, is about to begin her first semester at Denver University this fall. She’s the light of my life and more than half the reason it was an easy decision to take this job. She’ll be studying for a degree in Sports Management, which is no surprise to me. She’s always been an athlete, willing to play anything from basketball to hockey.
I had her in skates and on the ice by the time she was three years old. Hockey was her favorite sport until she found out girls don’t play in the NHL. She was thirteen, and after that, her interest in hockey just seemed to die. It’s like that discovery stole all her passion for the game. I often wonder if I could have done more, like encouraging her to get excited about the women’s leagues. Unfortunately, that was around the same time her mother and I divorced.
I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t the best father after that. Since I wasn’t an involved parent during her teenage years, I’m determined that this new chapter in my life will include a better relationship with her. I’ve committed to putting in the work this year to make it happen. Being physically closer to her is my way of showing her I’m committed to change. She’s wary, and rightly so, but she’s still willing to try. I can work with that. It’s more than I’d hoped for, so I’ll take what I can get.
“Hi, princess. It’s going great. How’s my favorite girl? Still on for dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, that’s fine, but…” Her voice trails off as she takes a deep breath and continues, “Can I bring a friend?” She sounds apprehensive, and I’m immediately on guard.
“Of course,” I reply, frowning at her hesitation. “I’m happy to take both of you. I’d love to meet one of your friends, Lex.”
Is this the kind of dad my daughter thinks I am? Of course, I want to meet her friends.
I run my hand through my hair, realizing there’s still significant work to be done on our relationship.
