Page 12 of Heartless As Puck

“Because of her background.”

“What?” I stared at him, uncomprehending.

Gus propped his elbow on his desk and rested his chin on his palm. “Her father and uncle.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He was making no sense at all.

Cocking his head, he studied me for a long moment. “Austin… don’t you know who Jane is?”

“My assistant.” Was I missing something?

He looked at me like I was a particularly stupid child. “For a really smart guy, you have to be one of the most oblivious men I’ve ever met. Jane is from a hockey dynasty. Her father is Pete Wright. Her uncle is Wayne Wright. Want to hazard a guess who her brother is?”

Holy shit.

My stomach lurched. No, it couldn’t be possible.

“But her last name is Foster.”

Gus rolled his eyes. “That’s her mother’s maiden name. She probably goes by it so no one makes the connection.”

“But…” I shook my head. Why would she hide that? “Are you sure? Even if her surname actually is Wright, it’s a common enough name.”

There was no way she was one of those Wrights. I’d know, wouldn’t I?

Pete and Wayne Wright were legends. They’d taken the NHL by storm a couple of decades ago. They’d been All Stars and some of the top scorers of all time. Pete’s son, Alec, played for the Colorado Dragons. I’d come up against him several times.

He couldn’t be Jane’s brother. I’d know. There was no reason she’d have kept that from me.

“Mm.” Gus smirked and grabbed his phone. He tapped at the screen for a few seconds then handed it to me. On the screen, Alec Wright was pictured alongside his father in front of The Lair, the stadium where his team was based.

Off to the side, her face turned partly away, was a woman who was unmistakably Jane. Sure, she was a brunette of average build and could have been almost anyone, but I was familiar with Jane’s mannerisms. I knew how she shrank in on herself when she was trying to avoid attention.

This was her.

“Why would she hide that from me?” I demanded, at a loss for anything else to say. Being part of an NHL dynasty could only benefit her in her current role. Why wouldn’t she make use of that?

More to the point, how had I not realized?

Gus shrugged. “She hasn’t been hiding it. Not specifically. She told me. In fact, it was through her connections that she got in touch with me when she found out you were looking for an assistant. She interviewed well, had experience with cooking for athletes—her family members—and she understood what NHL players need in a way few others do. Of course I hired her. I assumed you either knew who she was when you met her or would find out soon enough.”

I was an idiot. Not only because I’d been so blind but also because there was every chance I’d mansplained some aspect of hockey or the lifestyle to Jane at some point.

If I’d just paid more attention, I’d have realized what a valuable asset was living under my own roof.

“She’s perfect.” Gus continued speaking, ignoring my stunned silence. “She’s not new to hockey. She grew up with a father who was in the limelight, so I assume she knows the basics of how to handle herself and having the potential to marry into a hockey dynasty can only impress your new coach and the team’s manager. Think of the potential P.R.”

I shook my head—not so much because I disagreed but because I was struggling to assimilate this new information. “If Jane is one of the Wrights, then why is she working for me?” It belied belief. I wasn’t a horrible boss, but I was hardly warm and fuzzy either. My teammates already joked about stealing her from me. If they knew who she really was, she could have her pick of them. Anyone would love an assistant with experience and a solid background in the sport.

“Maybe she actually likes your grumpy ass,” Gus suggested. “It could happen. My point is, she’s perfect for the role and she’s already proven she can fit seamlessly into your life, so there wouldn’t be any unnecessary upheaval. I know how you hate that.”

“She’s my employee. It wouldn’t be right.”

“It wouldn’t be real.”

I grimaced. That was true, but I couldn’t help worrying that it might feel a little too real to me.

Jane was someone who wouldn’t have any illusion about my suitability as a boyfriend because she knew me well—apparently, better than I knew her. That meant I wouldn’t have the constant worry about not being enough, but it would also be easier to fall for the act myself.