Page 84 of Hard to Handle

“Considering Maddox is the one tearing up the charts and making scenes, I agree with Dad that it was important for you to be there now. Get him on the upswing so you can show him why you’ll prevent him from falling,” Chase says in her clipped, professional tone as if she has no stake in any of this.

“Always the pet,” I mutter, knowing that’s what they say about me.

“And she finally admits it.” Lennox laughs, to which I hold my hand up to the lens and flip her off.

“So has Hunter been receptive to your advances?” he asks, and I cough in response to fight the smile on my lips.

“We haven’t gotten to that part yet.” I bite my bottom lip as they all stare at me.

“Hence the blank status report,” Chase mutters under her breath.

“And why not?” Lennox prompts.

“It hasn’t been the right time.”

“In two-plus weeks’ time, you haven’t found a measly moment to corner him and ask if he’s happy with his representation?” Chase asks.

“Look, I’m here because you guys feel like he’s a ticking timebomb you want me to manage. I have to use caution. His game is stellar, but he’s a disaster off the ice, so I’m trying to be the one to be there to fix his fuck-ups right now. He’s burned out, and I’m trying to help him see that. Trying to help him see what he fell in love with again.”

There’s a snort in the conference room and they all glance to Brexton, and I can only imagine what she said.

I clear my throat and continue. “I’m trying to show him I’m the one there when Sanderson’s not or is too busy with his other clients. I’m trying to make it be me who Hunter calls when he needs something. When he needs someone to understand him,” I say, knowing it’s so much more than that. To them, this is our career and business, but to me, it’s wanting to see him get over this. “I’m at the games with the praise, but it’s the off of the ice part that will win him to my side.”

“Smart. Let him get comfortable—umm . . . more comfortable with you,” Chase says.

“Knock it off, you guys. Hunter and I happened over three years ago. We’re both mature adults who’ve moved on,” I lie.

“I hear Sanderson was there,” my dad says before a fight can start.

“He was.” I nod. “His warning was delivered and ignored.” Their chuckles fill the room.

“And you?” my dad asks. “How are you holding up?”

How do I answer that with the four people who know me best? How do I mask my expression so they don’t see I’m kind of a mess this morning, torn by emotions I can’t even name myself?

Because now that he’s asked, it’s ten times harder to pretend it’s not there.

Now that he’s brought it up, all I want to do is crawl into his arms and get a fatherly hug that tells me it’s going to all work out in the end.

“I’m good. Fine,” I reiterate. “My goal is to get Hunter alone this week between the next set of games and pitch our case.”

“Rumor is Finn’s not happy with him,” Lennox says.

“Rumor is a lot of people aren’t.” I pull my hair up in a clip, suddenly more aware than ever what I probably look like to them. “And I intend to exploit that to my advantage.”

My father nods, his hands steepled in front of him, and lips pursed. “He’s our in to Sanderson, Dekk. He’s the influencer or whatever term you young kids use these days. He’s the one who sets the bar. Get him over and it’ll be easier to pull more hockey players who want to be him.” He leans back in his chair and, as he looks me directly in the eyes, I feel both his challenge and confidence in me. “I know you can do it.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

DEKKER

“THIS SEAT TAKEN?” I ASK when I spot Hunter in the hotel lobby Starbucks.

He barely glances up from his iPad as he stands abruptly. “Now, it is. Have at it.”

Ridiculously, I think he’s standing to pull out my chair. Instead, he starts to walk away.

“Hey,” I say after him, surprised and dumbfounded by his reaction. “Hunter.”