Page 4 of Power Play

“It would’ve been for nothing. The Cybertruck he drives is hideous enough without you risking a criminal mischief charge.”

“Don’t worry about Steven. He’ll probably fuck off soon and go back to the hole where he climbed out of. And if he doesn’t, let me know. I’d love to have some words with that asshole.”

“Thanks, Lex.”

“Now to the other asshole. What did Charlie say?”

She knows my boss is one of my least favorite people in the world. Storming into her office and complaining about him hasturned into a weekly standing date with us. One where we—and my other best friends, Maven Lansfield and Emerson Hartwell—quietly lament over the joys of being women in a testosterone-filled industry.

“It was a comment about my shirt.” I gesture to the top I put on this morning, back before the day turned to shit. “He told me it would do me some good to pop open the top button. And then he added in a parting zinger of telling me I needed to smile more.”

Lexi gags. “You need to go to HR. I doubt you’d be the first one to lodge a complaint against the dickwad. Promise me you’ll go in next week.”

“I promise,” I say.

“Good. Moving to the good news portion of our day. Are we having dinner with the girls on Friday? A late starting game on Saturday calls for a night of delicious food.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “I made reservations at the new Italian restaurant downtown. It’ll be nice to take my mind off the last couple of days.”

“I hope you know we’re here for you, Piper. The past few years have been shitty, but I have this feeling something good is going to come your way soon.”

“Okay, you oracle. If you’re so all-knowing, can you tell it to hurry up? I’m getting impatient.”

“Course I can. I’ll make some calls.”

“You’re the best, Lex. You are free for lunch, right? You don’t have any other players who need your attention?”

“I’m free as a bird.” She grins and stands. “Maybe we can TP Charlie’s office on the way out. Or! We can send him a glitter bomb that explodes in his squirrelly face and give that prick a piece of our minds.”

“Wow. Your quest for a takedown involves glitter bombs?”

“Why not?”

I link my arm through hers, grateful to have such a fierce woman in my corner. “Fine. But only because he’s a grade A prick, and I could use a little fun.”

TWO

LIAM

“How easy isit to have someone fired?”

Maverick Miller, the best right wing the NHL has ever seen, looks up from lacing his skates. “Shit, Liam. You want me out as captain?”

“Believe it or not, I think you’re the best captain this team has ever had.”

He beams and runs a hand through his dark brown hair. “Aw, shucks, Goalie Daddy. You’re going to make me blush.”

“Fucking hate that nickname.”

I’ve seen the TikToks. The boys get a kick out of sending me the video compilations people make, laughing over the tags like #thirsttrapand #daddymaterialin the captions.

Unfortunately for me, the name stuck.

“Stop doing things the internet thinks are hot, and I won’t use it.”

“Biting my jersey isn’t hot,” I say.

“I don’t see the appeal, personally. I’m not into your broody, grumpy fucker aura whose pregame rituals involve eating your clothing, but some people are.”

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