I feel my cheeks warming again.
Penelope shifts, practical as ever. "You’re with Legacy PR, right? Scottsdale?"
I take a breath.
"I actually don’t work for them anymore."
All three of them pause.
Penelope’s brows lift. "You don’t?"
"No," I say. "I quit."
"Why? What happened?" Vivi asks.
I keep my answers honest but controlled. "I wasn’t aligned with how they handled Luka’s account."
Penelope studies me for a moment, and I can’t tell if she’s evaluating or simply listening. Then she nods slowly, as if that answer tells her something she was already suspecting.
"And what are you doing now?" she asks.
My chest tightens, not with fear this time, but with something closer to fragile pride.
"I started my own sports management business," I say "It’s new. I don’t have any clients yet, but I’m excited about it. I wanted to do something where my priority is the person, not just the optics."
"Katerina is going to be so pissed when she finds out that she missed this to go to New York." Cammy smirks.
Vivi and Penelope both nod.
"Missed what?" I ask.
"Getting that chance to talk to you since you and Luka got back. I guarantee she has some questions for you." Cammy says.
Penelope smiles. "Hey… Are you staying in Seattle?"
"Yes," I say, nodding. "A lot of new changes."
"Give me your phone number," Penelope says immediately.
Her request takes me off guard. "What?"
"I know a lot of athletes," she says, as if it’s the simplest fact in the world. "And I know a lot of athletes who could use a competent, loyal person in their corner. I’m happy to send your number along."
Something tight in my throat loosens.
"You would do that?" I ask, and I hate how small my voice sounds for a second.
Penelope’s smile turns a little sharper. "Of course I would. From what I heard, you went to ridiculous lengths to help Luka. That tells me you care about your clients."
I swallow. "You know about all of that?"
Penelope laughs. "The locker room isn’t that big, Natalia. Gossip swirls. And for the record? Players talk when someone actually shows up for them."
My pulse stutters at that phrase.
Shows up.
I pull my phone out and hand it over, and she enters her contact information with the kind of efficiency only a woman who runs an NHL organization can manage.
