Page 5 of The Owner

“Exciting?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.”

“Some people say you’re not ready to lead a national sports team.”

“Who are these people?” I ask, staring her down. “Online trolls living in their parents’ basement?”

“Well, for starters, Martin Greyson, owner of the Denver Landslides. He said that you don’t have what it takes to lead an organization.”

That prick. I’ll be sure to tear him a new one at the next owners’ meeting.

“I’ll remind Mr. Greyson that my team beat his the last four times we played each other,” I say with a grin. “Maybe he should worry about his own faltering organization.”

Let him suck on that.

“How did your father prepare you to take over?”

I get a little watery eyed at the memory of my father bringing me to hockey games, both local and professional. He’d always save me a seat beside him, no matter who he was with. He would explain everything to me. Not just about the game, but how he thought. How he worked through problems. I learned so much from him and the wound from his death is still fresh.

I swallow the lump in my throat and fight back my tears with a deep breath.

“My father was an amazing man,” I tell her. “A master of detail. Nothing was overlooked. He taught me everything he knew from the proper temperature of the ice surface—twenty-three degrees Fahrenheit by the way—to the different curves of a hockey stick for each style of play, to how to fire a coach, and most importantly, how to get the best out of your players.”

“Howdoyou get the best out of your players?” she says, looking at me curiously. “Do the young men in the locker room respect a thirty-four-year-old woman telling them the best way to play hockey?”

“The smart ones do,” I say. “Hockey runs in my blood.”

“Some say it’s a man’s sport.”

“I lead by example,” I tell her. “Maybe I can’t hit a slapshot from mid-ice, but I bring a level of tenacity, determination, and detail-oriented execution that speaks for itself.”

“Have the other owners accepted you into their boys’ club? Do they feel comfortable with having a woman owner around?”

They’re going to have to get comfortable with it. They have no idea what’s coming.

In the four years since I took over, I’ve transformed the team. We are in the Stoney Cup finals, so my results speak for themselves.

But no one is going to give me credit for that. I’m not stupid. They’re all going to say it was my father who got the team here. They’re going to say I was brought along for the ride when in reality I was driving the whole time.

My father was a great man and very knowledgeable about hockey, but he was too nice. He let things slip. There wasn’t enough accountability. Players came late for meetings. The locker room often got out of control.

I’m a lot of things, but too nice is not one of them. I’m a ballbuster. I really am a boss bitch, and proud of it.

When I stepped into his shoes and began to assert myself in the organization, I brought accountability with me. I was ruthless. No one showed up for meetings late on my watch. Every detail was looked after mercilessly.

The culture in the building changed. It became a winning culture. And soon enough, even the players and staff who called me a bitch behind my back started to be won over.

The league has no idea what’s happening here. The owners have no idea what’s in store for them.

It’s been four years of working behind the scenes and we’re already playing for the Stoney Cup. Now that I’m unleashed, I’m going to build a dynasty unlike this league has ever seen before.

First, I have to destroy the Hyenas and win that championship for my father, for my city, for my players, and for me.

The Hyenas’ owner, Brantley VanMorgan, is a new player in the field as well. He’s going to be a challenge with the team he built. I wanted to sign Sebastian Kemp in the offseason, but he beat me to it. That’s the first and last time he’s going to win over me. I’ll make damn sure of that.

My mind lingers on the billionaire owner as Marsha asks me another question. I hate that I find him so handsome. I hate how my heart races whenever I see him. He’s the enemy. He has no business making my body act like that.

“Are your Vipers ready for the spotlight?” Marsha asks. “Are they ready to take on the heavy favorites, The San Antonio Hyenas?”

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