Page 10 of On the Power Play

"Delia's interested in a contractual relationship for publicity purposes. With you."

Jack laughed out loud. "Shit, Tony, at least buy me flowers before you whisper sweet nothings." A contractual relationship for publicity purposes? Now he was positive he was dreaming.

"I know it sounds cold, but people do it all the time. Think about Celine and?—"

"Do NOT insinuate that Celine and René were in a contractual relationship," Clara burst out behind him.

"Who's that?" Tony asked.

"My sister, sorry. She just got home."

"Hi, Jack's sister."

Clara grinned as Oscar worked to keep her pinned to the sofa.

Tony continued. "On paper, it might not be sexy, but do you know what is? Bringing in more fans to the Saddledome for your games. Delia has thousands of followers. Specifically of the mid-twenties female variety, and they will flock anywhere Delia tells them to go. And you know who'll follow if their designer jeans are planted in those bucket seats."

Tony didn't wait for Jack to answer. "Guys. Beer-drinking, hockey-loving guys. Do you know who pays attention to stats like that? Team managers and owners. When they see the isolated variable that contributed to their ticket sales going through the roof was Jack Harrison being on the team, you better believe they're going to re-up your contract."

At the mention of strategy, Jack dropped into business mode. All day he ran cost-benefit and risk analyses on product lines and distribution agreements. This was in his wheelhouse. "If my name is the number one search term like you mentioned, why would I need anyone else to help me bring in more fans?"

This question shut Tony up but only briefly. "You're bringing in fans now, but if you've been paying attention to the NFL, you'll know exactly what a love story can do to ticket sales. Not only that, but I'm guessing your contracted rate isn't something to write home about. We're prepared to offer you an all-expenses-paid vacation. On us. You won't have to spend a cent while your contract with Delia is active. If you want, I can go into the social benefits of being seen with someone like Ms. Melise on your arm, but I'm sure you can do the math on that one."

Holy hell. The guy was serious. All expenses paid? Tony wasn’t wrong about his pay with the Blizzard. He was only coming on to cover for the playoffs and had been offered a per-practice and game rate. He also worked for Big Rick, a ski and snowboarding company, and while his pay was good, he was recovering from ten years of making hockey his full-time priority without benefits. He wanted to buy his own place and avoid mooching off Clara and Oscar. With interest rates sky high, he needed to put twenty percent down, or he was going to eat it in his mortgage payments.

But all practical thoughts slipped as he realized what this would entail. Being out. On dates. With a woman. It didn’t matter if it was real, just the thought of spending time alone with someone made his insides twist.

Jack turned to see Clara and Oscar staring at him like two baby birds. He knew exactly what they were thinking since they’d been pushing for him to get back on the horse and date since he’d moved in.

He tapped mute on the phone, then held out a hand, giving them the okay to give the advice that at least Clara was choking on. Oscar shrugged, then gave him a look like he'd eaten something bad at a Chinese restaurant. Clara, on the other hand, nodded emphatically and said, "You should at least meet her, don’t you think? And take me with you!"

Jack pursed his lips. He was insane. A relationship for a publicity stunt? Three weeks ago he'd been the guy who was kicked off of two AHL teams, and now he signed autographs in the Ice Arena parking lot, slapped away media requests like mosquitos, and received requests from famous pop stars to be their contractually-obligated boyfriend?

He wanted to say an immediate no, but curiosity niggled at him. That and the pathetic plea in Clara’s eyes won out. He turned off mute. "I'll need to think about it, and I'd need to meet Delia first. My sister Clara wants to come."

_____

Delia sat glued to her phone screen, watching Jack Harrison in a post-game interview from a month ago. Or was it six weeks? Whenever he'd played the game that all of Canada seemed to be talking about. The one she'd only discovered hours prior, thanks to Tony. He was good-looking. Not in a traditional sense, more of a rugged, I’ve-been-working-on-car-engines-all-day kind of handsome, and she didn't trust those long lashes and mussed hair. He had an uneven nose, probably from breaking it in a hockey fight or something. His smile was nice—humble and almost shy.

She jumped when the video disappeared and her phone buzzed in her hand. Tony. Delia answered the call. "Did you talk to him?"

"Waiting up for me, eh?"

Delia rolled to her side, folding her pillow in half so she didn't have to prop herself up on her elbow. "No, I was . . . writing lyrics." That wasn't a complete lie. She had been scribbling ideas in her notebook on her nightstand before she'd started stalking Jack Harrison online. The last thing she wanted was for Tony to think she’d been waiting up because she was nervous about this whole thing, or heaven forbid, that she was actually invested in the idea.

“I talked to him,” Tony said, and Delia’s mind splintered into a thousand directions. What had Tony said? What had Jack thought about what Tony said? Did he think she had proposed this idea, and if so, what did he think about her? Delia clutched her pillow tighter.

“He said he wants to meet you.” Tony’s words sank in like water over the soil of a potted plant. The sentence sat on the surface for a few seconds, then finally made its way to her roots.

He wants to meet you. Delia swallowed. “He’s in Calgary, isn’t he?”

“Yep, and he has a contract to sign and practice tomorrow, so there’s no way he’s coming to you. I’ve got tickets for you and Mary to fly out first thing in the morning.”

Her fingers went cold. She hated flying. “Does Mary know?”

“I sent her the itinerary right before I phoned.”

Delia tried to parse out the ramifications of this but couldn’t see past the YOUR GETTING ON A PLANE TOMORROW neon sign in her head. She repeated the information back. “I’m flying to Calgary tomorrow and meeting this hockey player, Jack, after his practice?”

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