Chapter Twenty-Two
Damon
Well, this dinner is a goddamn disaster. I look around at the four Wolves players at the table with me, trying to hide my irritation at their uncouth behavior. It’s like having dinner with a bunch of rude and unruly frat boys. I’m going to have to give our waitress a gigantic tip and apologize profusely for having to deal with their shit. I can’t believe these are grown men.
I shouldn’t be surprised since these guys used to have ‘dinner’ with the old GM, but here we are. I’m drinking my regular club soda and lime, but they’ve been drinking the hard stuff steadily throughout this two-hour dinner, and it’s showing in their behavior. I’m over it, but I’m waiting for the tab. I don’t care how talented these guys are; I will not tolerate this kind of bullshit behavior on my team. Nobody needs a PR nightmare like this. No wonder this team is a mess if this is an example of their current leadership.
I study each of their faces, trying to determine if there’s a shred of intelligence or maturity among them. Randy Johnson is our current Captain and first-line center. It’s becoming increasingly clear why this team is mediocre at best. If this guy has any redeeming qualities, I have yet to see them. He’s an arrogant, misogynistic asshole whose hockey IQ is lowerthan the number of goals he scored last year. Spoiler alert, it was ten. He couldn’t lead this team out of a paper bag, much less to the playoffs.
Fortunately, his contract doesn’t have a no-trade clause. This makes me wonder about his agent’s ability, but thankfully, that’s not my problem. He’s gone as quickly as I can trade him, even if I have to give him away.
Sitting next to him, barely able to sit up from the astonishing amount of whiskey he’s consumed tonight, is his right winger, Joel “Coop” Cooper, the youngest of this sordid little group. He’s a total yes-man who defers to his captain on everything. He’s a complete kiss-ass, and I’d be embarrassed for him if it wasn’t for the absolute garbage spewing from his mouth. So far, he’s done nothing but denigrate his fellow teammates with everything from homophobic slurs to petty rants.
He’s on a three-year contract, but again, it doesn’t have a no-trade clause. Do they have the same agent? It wouldn’t surprise me. He’s reasonably talented, certainly not first-line material, but he’s skilled with the puck. He should be easy to trade.
Jordan “Kims” Kimisky sits next to him. There’s something about him that gives me a bad vibe. My intuition with people is generally accurate, and right now, it’s screaming that this guy is trouble. He’s been the quietest of the group but also the most disturbing in a sly, sneaky way.
He hasn’t said anything overtly terrible, except for general agreement with his cohorts, but the way the waitress stood back from him while taking his order was telling. Since she’d asked if he wanted his usual, I’m gonna assume that she’s waited on him before. The distance and the look on her face while taking his order has me edgy, which tells me my gut is dead on with this guy.
He does have a no-trade clause, but he’s got minimal talent and only one year left on his contract. I’m going to put him on waivers for now and see what happens. I want him as far away from the team as possible, but I’m not sure I want to inflict him on our AHL affiliate, either. He’s the kind ofperson who’s sly but subversive. It’s a morale killer, and that’s the last thing we need.
Last but certainly not least offensive is Karl Bell, the first-line defenseman. He’s been an entitled prick since he walked in. His on-ice behavior is the main reason I’m looking to trade him, but after tonight, it’s no longer the only issue. The man is a malicious bully on and off the ice in the worst way. He plays dirty and already has a reputation around the league for excessive force. He’s logged more penalty time than ice time, and most of it’s for fighting, but it’s his treatment of our server and the staff tonight that’s brought out his true colors. He’s been rude, demeaning, and downright awful all night. I’ve heard rumors of some severe hazing occurring, and I’m reasonably confident that I’ve identified at least one of the perpetrators. That’s going to stop immediately because it’s the exact opposite of where we’re headed with this team.
As a player myself, I understand that selective fighting is a part of the sport, but a penalty at the wrong time can put your team down a man at a crucial moment. There’s a time and place for a fight, but a player needs to be aware of the consequences for his team. This moron isn’t aware he has opposable thumbs, so there’s not much hope that he’s aware of strategy. His entire season last year is evidence of that.
His contract is the most complicated and the longest, so I need to think this through carefully. I’ll likely need to grab some extra help from legal, and I should check with Joslyn and Jacob to see if they have any ideas. I make a note in my phone next to tomorrow’s meeting.
Our waitress brings me the bill, and I leave her an enormous tip with a heartfelt note of apology. My smile is remorseful as I hand the folio back to her. I thank her quietly as I stand up to take my leave.
“Well, gentleman, it’s time for me to call it a night. Thanks for getting together with me this evening,” I say in a clipped tone they don’t notice.
My statement is met with a chorus of boos before two of them start chanting ‘strip club.’ My mouth hardens into a thin line before I can force it into a smile. I’d rather have a root canal than spend any more time with these idiots.
“Not tonight. I’ve got an early meeting. Maybe another time.” Honestly, they’re so drunk that I doubt they’ll even remember the last half of this dinner, but as I walk away, I see Kims give me a sly, appraising look. It sends a shiver up my spine, and I resolve to look into getting rid of that fucker ASAP.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Joslyn
It’s Friday night, and I’ve been reviewing the budget for hours. I’m at the point where all the numbers are fuzzy smudges. I close my tired eyes and look around for a distraction. It’s almost nine, far past the end of the work day. Time to call it a night, even though going home is the last thing I feel like doing. I’m so restless and edgy. And horny. Incredibly horny. Which is new for me, so I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.
My wandering eyes catch a glimpse of my pale pink gym bag. I didn’t get a chance to work out at lunch today. That’s what I need—a good, hard workout. I save my files and shut down my laptop. I’ll come back for that and my briefcase later. For now, exercise is the perfect distraction. Abby’s with Lily tonight since I knew I’d be working late, so I have plenty of time to get in a nice long run.
The gym is empty when I arrive, and the lights are off. I let out a blissful sigh, thrilled to have the whole room to myself. My mood lifts as I head toward the locker room to change.
I’m in love with the new women’s locker room. It was one of Jacob’s first improvements once we’d gained control. He’s a thoughtful guy and knows I like to work out during the day. He’s also heard me mention a timeor two how shocked I was that we didn’t already have one. The Robertson brothers strike again.
We have quite a number of female employees, yet they haven’t been allowed to use the facilities or have a designated area to change and shower. In contrast, the men have had access to the player facilities.
When Jacob had it built, I designed and decorated it with all the bells and whistles the men’s locker room possesses, with a few additional feminine touches of my own. It’s kitted out with a fully loaded sauna, large lockers, separate changing rooms, high-end toiletries, fresh, fluffy white towels, and built-in hair dryers. It’s an oasis, exactly like I envisioned it.
Free pads and tampons, anyone? Take that, Kurt, you asshole. I win.
I change quickly, eager to start my workout. I love cardio. I struggle with strength training, so only self-discipline keeps me consistent, but I’m all about the cardio. Treadmill, elliptical, stationary bike—it doesn’t matter. I’m addicted to that cardio high, and I know it. It’s my go-to for stress relief and the only control I’ve had in a life where I often felt powerless to control anything. I’m not sure I would have survived my marriage without it.
Yes! This is what I need, definitely not sex. Nope, there’s no need for sex when I can run off all this energy. I’ve lived just fine without it for years and certainly don’t need it now.
I’m such a liar.
