Page 132 of Hard to Handle

It’s because he knows. It’s because I failed him and his request. Sure, the status reports were cute and my sisters and I went back and forth with our facetious comments, but I failed to bring Hunter to the firm and now he’s trying to figure out something else to keep this place afloat.

Overthink much, Dekk?

Jesus.

I blow out a breath and walk to the door, my hand ready to knock when he opens it.

“You got a sec?” I ask when he just stares at me. He looks frazzled. Hair mussed from his hands running through it, and cheeks flushed.

“What do you need? I’m kind of in the middle of something,” he says, striding back to his desk and shuffling through his papers.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” he says, completely preoccupied. “I have an appointment. They should be here any moment.”

“Dad,” I say more firmly.

His head comes up and sees me for what I think is the first time. “Sorry. Yes.” He stops shuffling. “What is it?”

I shift my feet and stress over asking the question, a grown woman reduced to feeling like a little girl who’s about to disappoint her father. “It’s been a week since they won the Cup. Why haven’t you asked me about Hunter’s status on switching agents?”

Especially since you know I go home to him most nights.

He stares at me with an intensity that unnerves me. “I need you to sit down a moment.”

“It’s not a big deal. Forget I asked. I can see that you’re busy.”

I’m practically walking back toward my desk when he says, “Sit.”

So, of course, I do.

He takes his own seat, his eyes flicking over my shoulder to where our receptionist Marge is speaking to someone, presumably his client.

“How do you think the Jacks won the Cup?”

What?

“The best team won?” I sound uncertain, even though I know my statement is true. The Jacks were the best team in the Cup. They peaked at the right time and the distractions and outside noise faded away. “This isn’t about the Jacks. This is about Hunter and how I failed you.”

His laugh is a low chuckle. He knows more than I do. “I’ll ask you the question again. How did they win the Cup?”

I pause. I can see it in his eyes. This is one of his life-lessons moments. The last time we had one, he pushed me to find love—to give my whole heart. And I did. I let go of my fear, and I believed love was possible. I realized it was worth the risk.

And that’s when it hits me.

“They won because they believed they could. They won because they played as a team. They won because they trusted their captain and wanted those endless hours of pain and hard work to count for something. They let go of their fear of losing and believed in themselves.”

My dad’s smile isn’t something he gives quickly, but right now, I see my favorite one. Pride. He’s proud of me, and somehow I don’t think it’s simply about my answer.

“You’re right. They played as a team. Just like we do here. What you drop, another will pick up. What I drop, same goes. We’ll survive without Maddox . . . but you’re missing my point.”

“What is your point then?”

“His point is that he sent you to recruit me.”

I gasp at the sound and then the sight of Hunter standing in the doorway to my dad’s office. He’s leaning against the doorjamb, his thumb hooked in one belt loop of his jeans, and he has a sheepish smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Because he saw more in me than I could see in myself. He saw potential through my anger and skill through my antics. He saw something that most dismissed. He knew if I could get my head in the right place, that would be to my benefit. He knew that you’d see me as more than a hockey player when that’s all anyone had. He knew that you’d help me see through the pain because like me, you were fighting your way through it too.”