Colin chuckles, a dry, tired sound.
“You’d think.” He glances at his chunky waterproof watch. “Actually, since you're here early, come on. Let me show you around while nobody is about.”
He leads me down the concourse, still dripping wet and not giving a single fuck about it.
“This is the main area,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “Food, merch, bathrooms. The usual.”
We pass a wide storefront, and I feel my inner marketer perk up like a dog spotting a squirrel. Two frosted glass doors bear the Bears' logo, but through clear panels I glimpse merchandise heaven.
A shrine to team spirit.
Jerseys hang like boutique garments… ocean-blue home, storm-gray alternate, sunset-orange specialty. A wall of snapback caps forms a meticulous rainbow of team colors.
And the hats. Fluffy pompom beanies, sleek curved-brim caps promising instant cool.
The sign above the doors glows golden:THE VAULT.
“Our team store,” Colin says, following my gaze.
I drag my eyes away from the window, but as I do, the main display catches my eyes. An enormous team poster is backlit, surrounded by team colors.
MEET THE BEARS!it declares in bold blue and gold letters.
And below the headline, among photos of players and coaching staff, is a photo ofme.
A sudden, stupid wave of emotion tightens my throat. I blink fast.Do not cry in front of your semi-naked boss, Josie. Do NOT cry.
Colin gives me a sidelong look, then claps his hands together. “Right. Office time.”
He leads me through a keycard-access door markedSTAFF ONLY, down a hallway lined with framed jerseys and action photos. We stop at a door at the end of the hall.
“This is you,” Colin says, swiping his card. The lock flashes with a green light and clicks.
He pushes the door open and steps aside as I walk in first.
And my jaw drops all over again.
Windows curve along two walls, with a panoramic view: ocean on one side, the arena’s ice and silent jumbotron on the other. The massive desk sits empty except for three precisely arranged items.
“This is…” I swallow. “This is mine?”
A brand-new MacBook Pro, still in its box, sits beside an iPhone in a custom Beachside Bears case. There's also a black folder, lying open to reveal a shiny silver credit card with my name embossed on the front, tucked into a slot labeledEXPENSE ACCOUNT.
“All yours.” Colin leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. He's still dressed like he's at the beach, and now all I can think isdon't drip on my office floor!“You’re going to need every tool we can give you.”
I walk slowly to the desk, my fingers trailing over the surface.
“Sit down,” Colin says. "Test it out."
I lower myself into the ergonomic chair. It sighs under my weight, molding to my still-aching body.
God, I could have used this chair for the past three days.
Colin pulls the other chair around to my side of the desk. He sits as water drips from his hair onto the rug, and I fight the urge to scream.
“I’m going to be straight with you, Josie,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “This team is on life support.”
The air in the beautiful office suddenly feels thin.
