Page 57 of The Secret Play

I blinked, stunned into silence.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” he continued. “But I get it. We’re just getting to know each other, so there’s no reason you would have told me.”

“Right, but I should have the moment I realized who he was. I’m too close to the team, too compromised to cover them. I’m sorry.”

“Not another apology. Gemma, I was thrilled to use your connections to the team through your brother. Your child’s father is just another link. Given the circumstances, yeah, you’re compromised, so this isn’t something you can cover objectively.”

I almost apologized out of instinct, but he was right. I couldn’t keep apologizing about this. I wasn’t sorry about being connected to Casey or having Winnie. I was just sorry I had made things ethically impure. “Okay.”

“More importantly, I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Relief washed over me, and I exhaled shakily. “Thank you.”

“That said,” he added, his tone shifting, “I think it’s best if we give you some distance from the Fire. At least for a while. Until things settle down.”

“What?”

“It’s not a punishment,” he said quickly. “It’s just…you know you’re too close to this, Gemma. We can’t have a conflict of interest, especially on something this huge. We can’t risk compromising your credibility—or the site’s.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped myself. Deep down, I knew he was right.

“What would you want me to cover instead?” I asked finally, my voice small.

“The college beats,” he said. “It’s a solid assignment. Less pressure, less scrutiny. You can still write great stories for us.”

I bit my lip, fighting back the frustration bubbling in my chest. “I appreciate the consideration, Gordon. I really do. But I can still cover the Fire. I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you could,” he said gently. “But this is for the site. We have to maintain our credibility, and if or when this gets out, your articles will be combed over, scrutinized, picked apart…it’s going to be an issue. So, let’s put you on the college beats for now. You’re too good to lose, Gemma, and I need you to trust me on this.”

There was no arguing with him. I nodded. “I get it. You’re right.”

“Please take care of yourself and your little girl. I’m worried this is going to get ugly before things calm down. You know how people are, especially hockey fans. They have a way of obsessing that puts other fans to shame.”

I wanted to argue, but there was no point. I knew he was right.

The drive home felt endless. My thoughts swirled like a storm, replaying the conversation with Gordon over and over. I’d been taken off the Fire beat—the one thing that had made me feel grounded, connected, capable—and now, I felt untethered.

By the time I walked through the door, my chest was tight, and my eyes burned with the threat of tears. I was halfway to the couch when a knock at the door startled me.

I opened it to find Nico standing there, his jaw tight and his expression unreadable. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” I said, stepping aside.

He walked in, his movements stiff and deliberate, and I could feel the tension radiating off him. “We need to talk.”

I nodded slowly, motioning for him to sit, but he remained standing, his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s going on?”

“Is Winnie here?”

“Daycare.”

“Good,” he said, his tone morose. “How long has that been going on?”

“How long has what?—”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t lie to my fucking face, Gemma. You and Coach. How long has it been going on?”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting. I could have lied, but it would have been wrong. My new boss knew the truth, but I hadn’t told my brother. That didn’t sit right with me. “It’s…recent.”

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