Unbelievable. James did nothing wrong except show appreciation for his talent, and Cole responded like a complete jackass. “Which is?”
“Good color on you,” Cole says, instead of answering my question. I mentally high-five myself for picking out the dark green blouse I have on this morning. “Professional but not boring.”
Still, the compliment sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. I try to ignore the way his gaze rakes over me. “Thank you. What brings you to my office, Cole? You could have called.”
He leans back in his chair, as if he’s in no hurry at all. “Jennifer wants me to coordinate my speech content with whatever theme you've planned for the gala. She says my usual captain speech won't work for your 'upscale vision.'“
“She's right. Your usual 'we're going to work hard and play harder' won't exactly match the sophisticated atmosphere we're creating.” I pull out my tablet and swipe to our event overview. “The theme is Legends and Legacy, honoring the history of Renegades hockey while looking toward the future.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“It is fancy. Five hundred of New York's wealthiest hockey fans are paying five thousand dollars a plate to eat dinner and mingle with players.” I show him the preliminary timeline. “You'll need to mention specific sponsors, and Jennifer wants you to acknowledge the VIP guests I'm managing.”
Cole takes the tablet and scrolls through the information, his brow furrowed in concentration. “This is more complicated than I thought. What about timing?”
“We're thinking right after the main course, before dessert.”
My phone rings, the shrill tone cutting through our conversation. I glance at the screen and see it's the backup venue we've been courting all morning. “I'm sorry, I have to take this.”
I shoot him an apologetic look and answer. “Harper Hayes.”
The conversation is brief and brutal. Another rejection, another door slammed in our face. By the time I hang up, my fighting mood has evaporated.
“Still having problems with the Rainbow Room?” Cole asks, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it.
I nod miserably, sinking back into my chair. “They claim there was a booking error, but I think someone with deeper pockets made them a better offer.” The words taste bitter. “I don't know what else I can do. Every other venue is either booked, too small, or wants to charge us triple our budget.”
The thought of failing makes my stomach churn. This contract isn't just about money—it's about proving Hayes & Company belongs in the big leagues. If I can't even secure a venue, how can I expect Jennifer to trust me with eleven more events?
Cole studies my face for a long moment. “I know you’re determined to do this on your own, but I might be able to help with this if you let me.”
My pride immediately bristles. “Cole, I appreciate the offer, but?—”
“I know the GM at the Rainbow Room.” He pulls out his phone. “One call should sort this out.”
I stare at him, torn between desperation and stubborn independence. Everything in me wants to handle this myself, to prove I don't need connections or favors. But my business, employees, and my reputation depend on making this event perfect.
“Fine,” I say finally, hating how small my voice sounds. “But this stays between us. I don't want anyone thinking I got special treatment because I know you.”
He nods solemnly. “Deal.”
Cole steps out to make his call, and I spend the next few minutes pacing and trying not to chew my nails. When he returns, there's the ghost of a smile on his face.
“It's handled,” he says simply. “You should get a call within the hour.”
“Thank you.” The words feel inadequate. “I owe you one.”
“No, you don't.” His voice is firm. “We're even.”
After Cole leaves, I try to focus on other aspects of the event, but my phone feels like it's burning a hole in my desk. Fifty-three minutes later, not that I'm counting, it rings.
“Ms. Hayes, this is Caroline from the Rainbow Room. I'm calling to apologize for the confusion with your booking...”
By the time I hang up, I'm on cloud nine. We have our venue. October fifteenth is ours. “Team meeting,” I call out, and Jessica, James, and Amber come rushing back into the conference room.
“We got it,” I announce, unable to keep the grin off my face. “The Rainbow Room is ours.”
Jessica whoops, James pumps his fist in the air, and Amber produces a bottle of champagne from somewhere. I don't even want to know why she had that in the office, and minutes later, we’re toasting with coffee mugs and paper cups.
