Page 81 of Pucking Daddy

I sit up, pushing my hair out of my face. The guest room—my room now, I suppose—is still dark, the city lights filtering through the blinds in thin strips. "What kind of situation?"

"A sports blogger has been asking questions about your relationship with Coach Halberg. Nothing's been published yet, but we're monitoring it closely. I wanted to give you advance notice."

My stomach drops. The scandal from the arena has barely settled, and now this. "What kind of questions?"

"Background checks. Employment history. Whether your arrangement is legitimate."

Simone pauses. "I've already briefed Jaxon. We'll handle this from our end, but you should be prepared for potential media approaches. Don't engage with anyone claiming to be press without clearing it through me first."

I rub my eyes. "Understood."

"And Zara? The family day event at the arena this afternoon—it would be beneficial if you attend with Lily. Show a unified front."

After she hangs up, I stare at the ceiling for a long moment.

The custody hearing looming, lawyers circling, now reporters digging into my past. Three weeks ago, my biggest worry had been whether the Henderson twins would finally stop putting crayons in the microwave.

I get up and start my morning routine. Coffee first—always coffee first.

The apartment is quiet, Lily still asleep, and I move through the kitchen with the familiarity that comes from repetition. Same mug, same spot by the window where the light hits just right.

My phone buzzes.

Danny:

Saw your name trending. You okay?

I type back.

Me:

Define okay.

Danny:

Not crying in a bathroom?

Me:

Not yet. Day's young.

Danny:

Call me if you need to. Love you.

I touch the silver heart pendant at my throat—his gift, ten years old now and still the most valuable thing I own.

Me:

Love you too.

By the time Lily stumbles into the kitchen in her dragon pajamas, I have pancakes ready and my game face on.

"Zara!" She climbs onto her stool at the counter, still half-asleep. "Are we doing something fun today?"

"Actually, yes." I slide a plate in front of her, the pancake shaped vaguely like a star. "Your dad's team is having a family day at the arena. Ice skating, games, probably too much sugar."

Her eyes go wide. "Real ice skating? Like Daddy does?"