Page 41 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

“Listen, Roman,” Jerry began, “your performance in the first game of the season? It wasn’t up to par. And that’s a problem for us. A big problem.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Jerry held up a hand.

“Don’t get me wrong. We know you’ve got talent, but you’re not focused. It’s like your head’s not in the game, and it’s showing. We can’t afford that. Not after everything that’s happened with your image the past year.”

I clenched my jaw. My reputation wasn’t exactly spotless. I’d been cocky, made some mistakes, rubbed people the wrong way. But I thought we were past all that. Apparently not.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice steady even though my gut was churning.

Ray finally spoke up, his tone more cutting than Jerry’s. “We’re saying if you don’t shape up, we’re going to have to look at our options. There are teams out there that might be interested in a trade.”

A trade.

Once, that would’ve been music to my ears. Getting out of Mistletoe, off this small-town team, and into a bigger market? That was the dream. Or at least, it used to be.

But now…I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave the team, and I sure as hell didn’t want to leave her.

As if on cue, the door swung open, and Rachel walked in. She looked as confused as I felt, her eyes flicking between me, Jerry, and Ray.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her tone all business. I could see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes when they landed on me, but she stayed professional, not letting on that we were anything more than coworkers.

“Ms. Henning,” Ray said, acknowledging her with a nod. “We were just discussing Roman’s…performance. Both on and off the ice.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed slightly, her jaw tightening. “I thought we’d been over this already. I’m working on it.”

Jerry leaned back in his chair, giving her a measured look. “Roman needs to rehab his image more than ever, and fast. After his performance in the first game, we’re running out of time. We called you in because you’re in charge of his PR now, and while you’ve pulled off something pretty great with that little photoshoot idea, Roman is a serious case. If he doesn’t get his act together, we might have to explore other options.”

Rachel shot me a quick glance, but I could tell she was as rattled by this as I was. Still, she kept her cool externally,though I saw her knuckles turning white in her lap. “I see. Well, Roman’s been working hard on improving his image, and we’ve actually just come up with a new initiative to show that. Right, Roman?”

I blinked at this quick volley in my direction, not having the faintest idea what she was talking about.

“You know,” she said again, more intense this time, looking at me with panic-fueled murder in her eyes. “The plan.We’ve talked about this.”

We hadn’t talked about this at all. But I’d always been fast at thinking on my feet—on the ice, at least. It couldn’t just fall on her. Rachel hadn’t been the one to ruin my rep in the first place, and I certainly didn’t want her to lose her job on my account. Plus, there was a selfish element; I’d see her way less if she wasn’t around the ice center all the time. So I had to come up with the solution, and it came out of my mouth faster than my brain could catch up.

“We’re going to visit the children’s hospital here in Mistletoe,” I continued for her, coming up with the idea off the dome. “I’ll spend time with the kids, maybe even run a mini hockey clinic for them. Rachel’s gonna invite the local press, obviously, get some good publicity going.” I shrugged. “Simple.”

“Exactly,” Rachel hurried to confirm the plan, relief showing in every inch of her body, which was satisfying to see. Almost as satisfying as it had been to make her come. She continued, “We’re going to show everyone that Roman’s a team player, both on and off the ice.”

Jerry raised an eyebrow, and Ray looked like he was chewing over the idea.

“It was all Rachel’s idea,” I added, pretending this whole plan existed before just now. “And I think she’s right. It’ll be a good way to give back to the community, you know?”

Never mind the fact that I already donated plenty of money to local charities. But that wasn’t something I publicized, nor would it be enough to establish that I wasn’t a total dick. Any rich asshole could donate.

Jerry tapped his spindly fingers on the desk. “That…could work.”

Ray nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. “It better. Roman, you know I love ya, kid. But if you screw this up, you’re out. You’ve got one more chance.”

The tension in the room lifted, but only slightly. I let out a breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I didn’t know where I had pulled that idea from, but it was a damn good save, and I could tell Rachel was thinking the same thing.

“Alright,” Jerry said, standing up. “We’ll set up the details. Rachel, you’re in charge of making sure this goes smoothly. Roman, don’t screw this up.”

I nodded, standing up as well. “Got it.”

Rachel gave a quick nod too, and we made our way out of the office together. Once the door shut behind us, I let out a low whistle.

“Close one,” I said, glancing over at her. “So, are we really doing this hospital thing or what?”

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