Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
There’s a tiny buzz of what feels like electricity in the air. Everyone in this room is fully invested in Baden’s recovery.
“It appears that Baden is showing promising signs of feeling and movement in both legs.”
Loud choruses of excitement echo out and Kane and I automatically turn to each other and high five. I pass fist bumps to Jett and Bain, and when I catch Riggs eye, I throw one his way. For a moment, he does nothing, but then, miracle of miracles, he smiles and taps his fist to mine. This news moves even someone like Riggs.
“All right, settle down,” Coach commands. It takes a few moments, but we do as requested. “This last announcement is also non-game related, but Mr. Carlson wanted it announced as soon as possible. Since I have you all in one place, this was the easiest way.”
Dominik Carlson, our enigmatic team owner, commands so much respect on this team that if he wanted an announcement made about the type of cologne he chose to wear on a specific day, we’d all sit still and listen. He took an expansion team—many players who were considered expendable by their former teams for one reason or another—and made us National Champions in just one year. It was unheard of, but more than his faith in us as professional athletes, he has repetitively stepped in to help his players on a personal level time and time again. Dominik Carlson is the type of man who we wouldn’t even need to question how high if he told us to jump. We’d immediately jump while giving it every bit of effort we had within us.
So we all sit up straight again, giving Coach our attention. “Mr. Carlson has decided to focus our digital marketing efforts on our social media platforms, and he’s hired an expert to guide us. Now, I’m so old school I don’t even know what that means, but you are young enough to. Without further ado, I’m going to introduce the new Vice President of Digital Marketing and Analytics to you.”
He motions for one of the trainers to open the door, then waves someone in.
And if a wave of electricity went through the room over the announcement of Baden, a tsunami of pure male pheromones swarms through at the sight of the woman who enters.
She’s tall and lithe, wearing a form-fitting purple dress with no sleeves and a wide black belt. The hem comes down to just below her knees, and her black stilettos add a good four inches onto her height while showcasing the slight definition of her calf muscles. Her hair is midnight black, pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, but that only highlights her flawless face, which is reminiscent of Angelina Jolie. I’m sure it’s the full, puffy lips that have me thinking that. Honestly, though, it’s her light blue eyes surrounded by black-framed glasses that make her beauty unique.
She struts like a woman on a mission, carrying an iPad with her to the podium.
Jett groans, and I cut my eyes his way. His tongue is practically hanging out of his head. “Is she a teacher? Because I’m totally hot for teacher.”
I snort, glancing at the woman. Those glasses with her hair pulled back, which makes her appear a bit like a disciplinarian, definitely give off a teacher vibe. But the coach said she’s a vice president in the front office, so she holds a high position, even though she can’t be more than mid-twenties.
Jett’s not the only one affected by her beauty as many of the players are murmuring God knows what to their fellow teammates.
Coach Perron smiles at her as she reaches the podium, then he steps away. The woman takes his place and scans the arena before her, six rows filled with big, burly hockey players, a good number who are not-so-secretly lusting after her. Her blue eyes don’t even blink, not intimidated in the slightest.
“Hello,” she says into the microphone. “My name is Emory Holland and as Coach Perron said, I’m the team’s new VP of Digital Marketing and Analytics.”
“Fuck me all to hell,” Jett mutters as he slumps in his seat. “She has a British accent. Why does that make her hotter?”
I snort, but I don’t look his way. If she’s being introduced on a game day there must be some measure of urgency, so I pay attention.
“For those who don’t understand my title,” she continues in that crisp, dry accent that has just a bit of a Mary Poppins lilt at the end, “Basically, I control every aspect of the Vengeance social media as well as the website marketing. Mr. Carlson feels we must continue to build on the momentum of our Cup win and resulting popularity to increase our fan base.”
Someone behind me challenges that—politely, at least. “I’m pretty sure our fan base is already set and fairly expansive.”