“You show them that management doesn't get to interfere in your life. You're Cole fucking Maddox. Act like it.”
I'm grateful for his support, even if his advice feels overly aggressive. “Thanks, Nova.”
But as I walk toward the conference room, my own words from countless team meetings echo in my head. How many times have I stressed the importance of team image? How many lectures have I given about staying out of trouble, about representing the Renegades brand with class?
Now I look like a complete hypocrite.
All the air leaves my lungs when I step into the conference room. They’ve brought out the big guns. General Manager David Bowman sits at the head of the table, flanked by team president Richard Carter and head of public relations Jennifer McCall. Coach Mercer is there too, his expression unreadable.
“Cole, thank you for coming,” Bowman says as I take a seat. “I think we all know why we're here.”
“My personal life,” I say flatly.
“Your personal life that's now front-page news when we're three games out from playoffs,” Bowman corrects. “Our sponsors are asking questions. Our fans are distracted. And it's our captain at the center of it all.”
Jennifer slides a tablet across the table, showing various headlines and social media posts. “This isn't going away, Cole. If anything, it's getting bigger.”
“Have you seen the speculation about Harper Hayes getting her contract through nepotism?” Carter asks, then turns to Jennifer. “What can you tell us about her qualifications? Did she get this contract legitimately?”
Jennifer's expression hardens. “Harper Hayes earned that contract through merit alone. I wasn't aware of her relationship with Cole, and I had no idea Brett Hayes was her brother until yesterday. Her company presented the best proposal after Signature Events pulled out.”
“But the world doesn't know that,” Carter says. “It makes us look like we awarded a multi-million-dollar contract out of favoritism.”
Heat flares in my chest. “Harper earned every dollar of that contract. She's planned flawless events for us and raised almost seven hundred thousand dollars for charity. Anyone questioning her qualifications can go fuck themselves.”
“Cole,” Coach warns.
“No, I'm serious. Harper Hayes is the best event planner in the city. The suggestion that she needed my help to succeed is insulting to both of us.”
Jennifer’s expression softens. “We're not questioning her abilities, Cole. But perception matters in this business.”
“We've called a press conference for this afternoon,” Bowman says. “You need to address this situation.”
Jennifer pulls out a folder. “You'll need to find a way to deflect from your personal life and redirect focus back to hockey and the Renegades' playoff push.”
I stare at them for a moment. “Fine. I'll do the press conference.”
“Good. Two o'clock.”
I leave the meeting feeling like I've been run over by a truck. In the video room, I try to review game footage, but the plays blur together on the screen. My mind keeps drifting to Harper, alone in her office, dealing with reporters and probably losing clients.
I pull out my phone and call her.
“Cole?” She sounds exhausted.
“How are you holding up?”
“The press is still camped outside my office. I have a client meeting soon, and I have no idea how I'm going to get out of here without being mobbed.”
“I'm sorry. This is my fault.”
“It's both our fault,” she says quietly. “How did your meeting go?”
“They want me to do a press conference this afternoon. Redirect attention back to hockey.”
“That's probably smart. It shouldn't be about us. It should be about the game.”
Relief surges through me. I’m glad she gets it. “Harper, are you okay? You sound so low.”
