The first thing my tired brain can register is the comments replying to whatever he posted, and nearly all of them ask the same thing:Spill the tea, Will. Which teammate is the dick?
Shaky fingers navigate to Will’s profile, and when I see the idiotic post he made around eight hours ago, the comments make sense.
I want to thank everyone who was involved in making tonight’s gala so successful, apart from my dickhead teammate.
All the blood drains from my face. I know precisely whichteammatehe’s referring to. The one who kindly gave me a ride home last night.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
The first thing I do is delete the post, even though I know it’ll make no difference since hundreds—maybe even thousands—of screenshots have been taken by now. Still, I hold out a sliver of hope that Repeet hasn’t seen it yet, along with Tristan.
Taking a deep breath, I hit Call on Will’s contact, anger rolling through me with every ring that goes unanswered. Eventually, I’m connected to his voicemail, and I close my eyes and swallow when the beep sounds, knowing if I don’t maintain a modicum of professionalism, then we’re both totally fucked.
“So, I just woke up to an absolute shitstorm on social media and a panicked email from Colton. You should know that I have deleted the post you made last night, and now I’ll be heading into the office to embark on what will likely be the worst day of my working life to date. Call me so we can go over our crisis management plan.” I pull the phone from my ear and can’t help adding the next sentence, which I’ll likely regret in a few hours. “And for the record, the only dick I see around here is you.”
A half hour later, with zero caffeine running through my veins and a headache pounding in my ears, I sit across from a stony-faced Colton.
Reading him has never been an issue for me since he always wears his heart on his sleeve, but today, he’s giving nothing away.
“Have you spoken with Will yet?” he asks in a voice that matches his demeanor.
I shake my head and flip my cell over on the table.
Still no response to my call.
“I think he has morning skate, so he’ll probably get back to me after that. He was likely already on the ice when I called.”
Colton’s lips twist in thought. “Did you have any idea that he planned to make that post last night?”
I almost feel insulted that he would think there was a world where I’d ever be okay with what Will said.
“No,” I simply reply. “But when he listens to my voicemail, he’ll be in zero doubt over my thoughts on it. Especially after Repeet reopened discussions last night.”
He hangs his head and groans out a disbelieving sound. “How long was the post active before you deleted it?”
“Eight hours.”
I watch the top of his head as he nods once. “And do you have any idea which teammate he was referring to?”
I’m going to throttle William Jones when I next see him. Not only has he thrown us both into the metaphorical equivalent of a PR lion’s den, but I also now have to explain why—and likely how—I know the teammate in question is Tristan Vaughn.
“Drew?” Colton presses.
I cross my legs under the table and draw a deep breath into my lungs. Tristan isn’t a client of First Line PR, but I know Colton is keen to get him on board. The last thing I want is for my boss to think that I’m involved with the Rogues forward.
“The atmosphere between Will and Tristan appeared frosty last night.”
Colton looks perplexed. “Do you know why?”
The temptation to shrug and deny any knowledge is strong. However, lying has never been in my wheelhouse and especially not when it comes to the guy who granted me my first big career break.
I give Colton a tentative glance, still unable to get a read on his overall mood.
“After the auction, Tristan asked me to dance. And after that, I spoke with Kevin Rogers from Repeet, and Will offered to drop me home when the night was almost over.”
Colton’s body language turns uneasy.
“I’d already accepted a ride from Tristan, and for some reason, that didn’t sit well with Will. It felt like he didn’t trust him, and when I pointed out that Tristan seemed like a nice guy …” I trail off, feeling like this whole thing is ridiculous.
