Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Bauer continued, undeterred, the air of a man who didn’t necessarily care how his news was received, only that he’d made the decision, everyone had to deal with it, and he was probably late for a dinner reservation. “Reese is a Princeton graduate. Top of her class. I’ve been quietly ushering her in under my wing for the last few months and I’m confident that she is exactly who this team needs to remain as one of the league’s top competitors while I take some time to focus on my health. My family.”
He cleared his throat, indicating the back of the room with a sweep of his hand.
“Reese.”
Sig turned and watched a woman in a red pantsuit glide down the aisle, a gold watch winking on her wrist, chin held high. Reese was a child from Bauer’s original marriage, presumably, because he’d been married to a Black woman first and Reese appeared to be biracial. And if Sig hadn’t spent six months analyzing Chloe for every little sign that might indicate what she was thinking, he probably wouldn’t have noticed that this woman was nervous, but there was something about the way her fingertips dug into the folder at her side that told him she wasn’t as confident as she came across.
Her voice, however, portrayed otherwise.
It was clear and firm.
“Hello. Thank you for the warm greeting. You can pick your jaws up off the floor now.”
“I’m in love,” Mailer whispered, reaching over to clutch Sig’s forearm. “Son of a bitch.”
“Daughter, actually,” Reese said, without missing a beat—and that’s the moment Sig decided he liked her. Which could change, depending on his status with the team now that the house of cards had been reshuffled, but for now, she seemed all right. “I know this news is a lot to digest, so I’m not going to go into specifics tonight.” She flipped open the folder, scanned something, and closed it again. “Suffice it to say I’m committed to doing everything I can do on my end to put a Stanley Cup in the Bearcats’ trophy case. Which could mean some restructuring. Reallocation of budget. A hard look at who is serving the best interests of the team.”
For the second time that night, Sig was treated to a vague glance, this time from Reese.
What the hell did that mean?
Was he not serving their best interests?
Chloe’s smile materialized in his mind and he struggled not to shift anxiously in his seat. If his time with the Bearcats was coming to an end, he couldn’t serve her best interests, either. That was the true source of the pressure weighing down his shoulders.
“I’ve been watching hockey since the first day I opened my eyes. I know when a team is on the verge of greatness—again—and this one is. Lately, we’re always second best. Runner-up. What’s holding us back?” She nodded for a moment. “It’s my job to figure that out. It’s your job to trust me. Can you all get past the obvious fact that I’m a woman and do that?”
“Yes,” Mailer rasped. “Implicitly.”
Sig turned his head slowly to look at the rookie. “Are you okay, or what?”
Dude didn’t even hear him. “I can be what you need,” he said to Reese, before shaking himself. “I mean, I’m here to get results. For you. And show you around. Do you need to be shown around?”
“I’m all set, Bow Tie,” Reese deadpanned.
That earned a chuckle from the room.
Mailer reached up and yanked off the bow tie, the scratching sound revealing it to be attached by Velcro.
“I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening. Good luck on the road this week—you might not see me, but I will be there to cheer you on from the box,” Reese said, pointing to her serene expression. “This is my cheering face. Don’t take it personally.” Another, warmer laugh from the team. “Good night.”
Everyone shuffled to stand at once.
But the entire team simultaneously froze as Reese approached Sig. “Mr. Gauthier.” She tipped her head in the direction of the exit—the one that led to the executive offices. “Might I have a word?”
SIG SAT DOWN in front of the white designer desk, numb straight to his fingertips.
Months of wondering where he stood with the team, praying they would offer him a worthwhile contract, came down to this moment. He could feel it. This woman didn’t call people into her office unless she had something important to say.
His fate hung in the balance. As a Bearcat. Maybe as a hockey player. As the man who dreamed of providing for Chloe for the rest of his natural life. Longer, even.
Reese sat down in front of a picture window, Boston lit up behind her.
She folded her hands on the desk.
“Let’s get right to it, Mr. Gauthier—”
“Sig.”
She nodded hesitantly, as if not sure she wanted to be quite so casual. “Sig.” She tapped a finger against her knuckle. “I won’t beat around the bush. You’re the best wing in the league. Your speed is unmatched. It goes unnoticed sometimes how many opportunities you create for other players to score, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by me.”