Page 47 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

A smile splits my face. That was the most difficult hurdle I was glad to cross. “Everyone’s worked hard, especially the players.”

A nod, but the small twitch of his eyebrow gives away that it’s time for the real reason for this conversation. “Speaking of the players ... Ethan Carter? His usual ... engagement with these things is limited.”

Limited is putting it kindly. “Ethan’s been great,” my smile’s unwavering. “Really involved. Helped out with decorating, mingling with the fans—he’s been fantastic.”

Reid’s gaze sharpens, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of surprise. Reid is a man who lives in facts, and Ethan Carter being a willing participant in a fan event? That’s probably a fact he struggles to believe.

But before I can fully enjoy the small victory, he gives a small sigh, looking around. “Good. That’s good. But, uh, there are a few paparazzi lurking near the press area. You might want to come over and explain a few things to the media.”

“The media?” Brows lifting, I internally curse whoever decided it was a good idea to let reporters into this happy place—aka my Christmas Wonderland.“Is there a specific issue?”

“They just want to ask a few questions. You know, the usual—how the event’s going, how it’s bringing us closer to the community.” Reid’s tone is too smooth, like he’s trying to convince me he’s not tossing me into a den of paparazzi. “Nothing you can’t handle.”

Reid offers a thin smile that says,better you than me.

“Right,” muttering to myself as I nod. Of course, it’s nothing I can’t handle.

“You’re doing great work, Holly. It’s natural that you be the one to take the plaudits.”

“No problem. I’ll handle them.”

“Good work, Holly. Keep it up.”

Following Reid to the far side of the rink, I see them. A small group of reporters, hovering like vultures circling a fresh story carcass. The closest one of them is leaning against the boards, wearing the journalistic equivalent of a smirk. The sleaze practically oozes off him, and he looks like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.

Okay, Holly. Deep breath. Let’s go.

“Ms. Bennett!” Blue calls, his voice somehow managing to sound friendly and slimy at the same time. “I’m Raymond Blue. Got a few questions for you about today’s event!”

Raymond Blue—Now why does that sound familiar?His slicked-back hair and too-white smile makes my skin crawl.

Flashing my bestI’m-so-happy-to-be-heresmile, I step forward. “Of course! I’ll have to answer to everyone at once to save some time please.”

“No problem,” he nods.

I step up on a little podium and questions come at me like rapid fire. “Can you tell us more about how today’s event is helping connect the team with the community?”

Perfect. A softball question to start with. “Absolutely. This event is all about bringing the Chicago Blizzards closer to the community. The fans love it, and it’s a great way for everyone to bond over hockey and the holiday season.”

Another reporter pipes up, not missing a beat. “And how do the players feel about participating in an event like this?”

“The players have been fantastic,” I say, nodding toward the rink where Liam and a couple of kids are currently hangingtinsel on a tree like it’s a gold medal. “They’ve really embraced the opportunity to give back, and the fans appreciate seeing their favorite athletes in a more personal, festive setting.”

“Miss Bennett!” The man who called himselfBluecalls out. His voice cuts through the noise, his tone far too smooth to be anything but trouble. “Today’s event seems like quite the success.”

“It’s been wonderful. The turnout from fans and local businesses has been fantastic. The players have been really engaged, and it’s been a great opportunity for the community to connect with the team.”

He gives a sly grin, already angling for something more. “Sounds like it’s been a win for the Blizzards community outreach. So, are all the players participating? No one shirking their duties today?”

Oh, here we go. I keep the smile in place, even as my patience thins. “Yes, all the players have been wonderful. Everyone has participated fully.”

“Even Ethan Carter?” Blue’s question drips with faux innocence, but there’s no hiding the sharp edge beneath it. He leans in just slightly, like a shark circling blood in the water.

A small pause, but not long enough for him to latch onto. “Yes, even Ethan. He’s been here all day, helping with the decorating.”

Blue’s eyes gleam, but the smile stays in place. “Interesting. He’s not usually one for these kinds of events, is he? Maybe we could see him in action, just to, you know, confirm his enthusiasm?”

The urge to roll my eyes is strong, but professionalism wins out. “I’m sure Ethan would be happy to stop by.”

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