Page 6 of Power Pucking Play

"Boy, does it ever." I sigh, leaning back in my chair. "But to be completely honest...yes. Looks like I'll be spending a few weeks with Chicago's favorite bad boy."

"Wow. You're lucky. Really. That guy's gorgeous."

I reach for the papers on my desk. "Oh, trust me. He's aware." I peer over at his file, an idea forming. "Now that you're here, Sophie, I actually could use some help with background research. You up for it?"

Her blue eyes light up. "Absolutely! What do you need?"

"Everything you can find on Gio. His stats, his history, all the scandals and controversies."

"Consider it done," she says, practically bouncing with excitement. "I'll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning."

As Sophie scurries off, my phone buzzes, a text from Gabi lighting up the screen.

"Heard about the assignment. Grab a drink? We need to talk."

Jesus. Did a PSA about me doing a feature with Gio go out to the whole building?

With a groan, I type back a quick response, knowing exactly what this conversation will entail. "Sure. 7?"

Her reply is immediate: "Perfect. And try not to panic. It's just Gio."

Just Gio. Right. As if anything about Giovanni De Luca could ever be “just” anything.

I turn back to my computer, pulling up my past articles on Gio.

The words jump out at me, harsh and critical.

I never held back my disdain for him in my writing, always painting him as the arrogant, entitled troublemaker that he is.But now, with the prospect of spending weeks in close quarters with him, those words feel like they're coming back to haunt me.

"De Luca's reckless play style endangers not only himself but his teammates."

"Another game, another fight. When will the Blades realize De Luca is more liability than asset?"

I wince, closing the browser. How am I supposed to write an unbiased feature when our history is so...complicated?

By the time the workday ends, I'm practically vibrating with anxiety.

I gather my things, my mind spinning with questions. As I head for the elevator, Sophie calls out, "Good luck! Can't wait to read your feature!"

I force a smile, silently praying that there will actually be a feature to read when this is all over.

I make my way to our usual spot, an Italian restaurant called La Trattoria that serves the best lasagna in town just a few blocks from the office.

I spot Gabi at our usual corner booth, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Her green eyes are fixed on a glass of red wine in her hand.

When I walk up, she looks up and smiles. "Lex."

"Gabs." I set my purse down in the booth, giving my bestie a kiss on the cheek. “You look great, babe.”

“And you…look like you're about to throw up," she says, giving me a knowing look.

"I might be," I reply, taking a seat across from her. "For once, you look like you're not getting ready to throw up. Not being pregnant for the first time in a while agrees with you."

Gabi laughs, taking a sip of her wine. "I have to enjoy it while it lasts. Jacob wants to start trying again soon."

"Uh-huh. Like the two of you actually ever stop trying," I tease, trying to ease the tension in my own chest.

"You know me too well." Gabi grins, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

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