Yes. Yes, he will. Our new hire is hot as hell.
Chapter Four
Damon
After returning to my office, I open my calendar to add the new tasks I’ve been assigned and set some personal deadlines based on our meeting. Meanwhile, my mind is racing as I try to process all the memories from my early days with the Wolves, along with my new employment situation.
My new boss is my crush from my rookie year and the redhead from this morning.
Fuck my life! The woman I obsessed over for three years—okay, longer than that—is now my employer. How is this my life? Not only is she my boss, but she’s also the woman I spotted out the window this morning.
Awkward much?
So many thoughts are racing through my head. Joslyn was the star of my spank bank fantasies for most of my early twenties. Good God, my thoughts of her had been downright filthy. How am I going to look her in the eyes? The embarrassment from that realization is almost overwhelming. And she’s even more attractive now than she was back then. How is that possible? Let’s not even talk about how she’s a widow now. Which doesn’t make her single, but damn it opens that door in my head.
The only thing that makes this situation bearable is knowing she has no idea. Yeah, that shit’s going into the vault forever. I refuse to jeopardize my career because of my twenty-year-old self’s inability to control hishormones. At least, my self-discipline over my body and mind has improved at thirty-eight. Right? My logical brain agrees, but my body… well, my body hasn’t gotten the message based on the semi I’m currently sporting.
Fuck, am I in trouble?
I spend the afternoon making phone calls and setting up meetings with the current athletic trainers for the rest of the week. I want to revamp the gym and need their input, at least initially. We’re looking for a new team doctor, so I would like him or her to oversee the hiring process for the new medical staff, including new trainers. I want to give them as much autonomy as I’ve been given, but I also don’t want to wait any longer to start updating the gym equipment. This means I have to work with what we currently have.
I need to talk with more staff to understand the challenges we’re facing. People resist change; it’s just part of human nature. However, there are positive ways to address this, and I plan on employing every one in my arsenal to move this organization forward. The owners’ support makes a significant difference, but ultimately, the responsibility falls on me as the GM. My career will rise or fall based on my success.
I’ve been given the freedom to hire any additional staff I require. The Robertson brothers had a sparse and underpaid administrative team, and those on staff were entrenched in their ‘old school’ philosophy. They lack a social media presence, and their marketing department consists of three people, none of whom is under fifty years old. In today’s world, we can’t afford a staff that isn’t familiar with social media.
My primary responsibilities are the players and their environment, and I’m about to bring in my reinforcements. After spending the last twenty years in the NHL in various roles, I’m calling in all the favors I’ve accumulated and doing everything in my power to create a successful team.
I appreciate that Jacob is managing the marketing side. At the same time, Joslyn has agreed to take charge of the overhaul within the financialdepartments. That’s her area of expertise. She holds degrees in both accounting and finance. The woman is nothing short of amazing. The financial aspect is not my strong suit. Despite my degree in business, I focused more on hockey than on my college classes.
Smart and beautiful. Yup, she’s the complete package…and completely off-limits.
I need to keep reminding myself of that because my body hasn’t received the memo. I passed her in the hallway earlier, just close enough that I could smell her honeysuckle and vanilla scent. Jesus, she’s still wearing the same goddamn perfume she used to wear. My dick was like, “Hey, I remember her,” and reacted accordingly. It was fucking embarrassing. I’m a grown ass man, for God’s sake.
Yeah, I’m in so much fucking trouble.
Tres Margaritas is packed when I arrive at six forty-five for dinner, but I expected this crowd, which is why I came early. My daughter, Lexi, and I both agree that they serve the best chicken enchiladas in town. It’s been our go-to dish every time I visit. It’s a ritual. We start with chips and salsa, then move on to chicken enchiladas, and end the night with sopapillas. There are so many good memories here. I’m hoping we can make it a regular monthly outing. I’m not above bribery in my quest to strengthen our relationship.
The colorful décor and upbeat music help to melt away the stress of the day as I make my way to the bar. I order my usual club soda with lime and turn around to enjoy people-watching while waiting. I appreciate the restaurant’s family-friendly atmosphere and love to observe how families interact at the end of the day.
Due to the intensity and length of the hockey season, I didn’t experience much family harmony with my ex-wife. Hockey season is tough on relationships, but ours was doomed from the start. In hindsight, I realize that hockey, alcohol, and partying—in that order—were the nails in the coffin of our marriage. Our divorce came as no surprise to anyone, including me.
I frown at my smartwatch. It’s 7:15, and she’s usually not this late. I’ll give her another ten minutes before texting to ask about her estimated arrival time. Being a girl dad has made me acutely aware of how unsafe the world is for women. It’s been an eye-opening experience, honestly.
I order another club soda to pass the time, even though I’m not that thirsty. After all these years, having a drink in my hand at a bar provides me with a sense of comfort. It’s my compromise—club soda instead of alcohol. At ten years sober, I’ve adapted and found ways to socialize without alcohol, but it hasn’t been an easy path. It’s one I have no desire to walk down again.
Just as I’m about to text Lexi, I see her familiar figure walk through the door. For a moment, my beautiful girl takes my breath away. Her black, wavy hair—so similar to mine—falls loosely around her face. Bright blue eyes scan the room, lighting up when she spots me at the bar. Her warm smile warms up my heart, and I want to shout, “Hey, my daughter loves me!” I chuckle because she’d kill me for embarrassing her like that.
I wave as I head toward her, noticing the pink dress she’s wearing. I struggle to keep the shock off my face. If there’s one thing I know about my daughter, it’s that she hates pink. She loathes it with a passion that she’s expressed in great detail over the years. I hug her close.
“You look beautiful, honey,” I say, my voice cautious, I’m aware that we’re in a delicate phase right now, so I don’t say a word about the color of her dress.
She smiles shyly over her shoulder, and I notice the guy behind her. My eyes narrow as I take him in. He’s much shorter than I am, about 5‘8“, and his blond hair peeks out of his black beanie. It matches his trendy beard, although it’s more of a suggestion of a beard, as it looks sparse and unimpressive. I immediately dislike him. No reason. I just do. Dad vibes.
“It’s new.” She gestures toward the hipster wannabe behind her. “Carter helped me pick it out.” She practically beams, and I hold back a sarcastic remark.
“It’s lovely,” I murmur. This must be the ‘friend’ she’s bringing to dinner—not a roommate or a girl. The hesitation during our phone call earlier now makes sense. I put on my best ‘everything is fine’ face. “Carter, I presume?”
I extend my hand in greeting.
