Page 46 of Cold Carnage

Gideon nodded again. "That's exactly what we need. Personal connections will help rebuild trust."

Simon leaned forward, a grin playing on his lips. "How about a fan day? Something interactive where they can meet the players up close and personal?"

"I like that," Gideon said. "We can make it part of the charity event."

The room hummed with a sense of renewed purpose, ideas flowing more freely now.

I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. "We could pick up Jared Crowder," I suggested, my voice steady despite the tension.

Silence fell over the room like a heavy curtain.

"You've got to be joking," Ryker finally spat out, his eyes narrowing at me.

"Why?" I asked, meeting his glare head-on. "Crowder's stats are solid. He's still putting up good numbers for someone in his thirties. He'd be a reliable third-liner, maybe even second."

Ryker's face twisted in disbelief. "He's a weasel, Paige. The players hate him. And don't forget his history with Cole."

"His numbers speak for themselves," I insisted, not backing down. "He's got the experience and the skills we need right now."

Gideon remained silent, his gaze shifting between us.

"You can't actually be contemplating this," Ryker said, turning to Gideon. "You know the Southern Serpent as well as I do. Do you care about this team? This isn't the best idea."

Gideon's eyes flicked back to me, a question hanging in the air.

"There's a reason the Toronto Rangers aren't re-signing him," Ryker added, his tone dripping with frustration.

"It's due to cap space," I countered, my voice unwavering.

"Then why hasn't anyone else picked him up?" Ryker threw back at me, his words sharp as knives.

I paused, searching for an answer that would break through Ryker's wall of resistance. The room felt charged with electricity, every eye fixed on us as we stood at this impasse.

The tension was palpable; even Barrett seemed to hold his breath.

"Look," I said, leaning forward, my hands resting on the polished table. "Jared Crowder's stats as a center are impressive. He's got a solid faceoff win percentage, he's strong on the penalty kill, and he's not afraid to protect his players."

"He's a scrawny piece of shit," Ryker retorted, his eyes narrowing at me.

"He's clever," I pointed out, not backing down. "Smart. And he's not afraid of a fight, even if he's lean."

"He and Weston Cole have a history," Gideon interjected, his tone serious. "It's not a good one."

I furrowed my brows, searching for any hint of exaggeration in Gideon's face.

"And here I thought you did your research." Ryker sneered. "Weston and Crowder's sister hooked up. Crowder was furious and during a game, let Weston know how he felt about it—knee on knee. Weston was out the rest of the season."

"That was four years ago," I said, keeping my voice steady.

"So?" Ryker shot back. "You think someone just forgets about that?"

"You can't have it both ways, Mr. Kane," I said firmly. "If you want to protect the team from your scandal, this is the best way to do it. If you don't because of one person, you're not really thinking about the team as a whole."

Ryker's jaw clenched again, his eyes boring into mine as if trying to find any crack in my argument.

Gideon remained silent for a moment, tapping his pen against the table thoughtfully. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Finally, Gideon spoke up. "We'll consider it," he said, looking directly at me before turning his gaze to Ryker. "But only if we can ensure there won't be any further issues between Crowder and Cole." He shifted his gaze to Barrett. "What do you think? Could you use him?"

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