Page 7 of Not A Chance

With the extent of my team sport experience peaking in high school track and field with a third-place ribbon at regionals, I was sorely unprepared in understanding the world of sports communications.

I spent my days learning the tasks under the communications manager. I was lucky to have been paired with a saint in the form of Jermaine Kenton.

He also happened to be married to the love of his life for the past thirty years. The expression on his face every time he spoke abouthis wife suggested that a certain kind of love could last a lifetime.

They’d also already had me over for dinner twice since I’d started with the Tempests, making me feel welcome in ways I wasn’t ready for. Warm and gooey feelings were not my default setting, even if their adorable little Morkie wasted no time in claiming my lap each time I visited.

On top of being so nice, Jermaine was an excellent boss who understood I had come into this role completely devoid of any useful sports knowledge. I was one of those people who only watched the Superbowl for the commercials and the half-time show.

After receiving a summons to his office, I gave the open door a quick knock to alert him to my presence.

Looking up from his computer, he waved me into the seat in front of his desk with a smile.

“Indie! How’s my favorite junior communications assistant?”

“Pretty good. Considering I’m the only junior communications assistant here.”

“Only a technicality, Ms. Layne,” he assured me, as smooth and charming as ever. “It turns out you’re about to move into the eye of the storm, or even atempest, if you will.” He winked.

God, even his terrible dad jokes were more tolerable than most.

“What do you mean?” Between learning a new job and the complexities of hockey itself, my plate felt pretty full already. I wasn’t sure I was prepared to take on anything more without humiliating myself and having it get back to my father.

Failure wasn’t an option here. My stomach churned with nerves.

“It turns out Cadence, our team member who works on special features with national and international magazines, has to fly home to Montreal for a month or so to deal with a family situation. So, my dear, that means you’re going to need to step up and take over a coupleof her away-game duties.” He lifted an eyebrow, his gaze assessing.

“Okay. No problem. I can do that.” I nodded, hoping I looked more capable than I felt.

Each team in the league had an in-house communications team dedicated to preparing game notes for the media, stats, and info for social media, creating posts, and so many more tasks that I hadn’t ever fathomed before.

A quick nod of approval from Jermaine was my cue to leave his office and head back to my desk.

It was a far cry from the repetitive reception job I’d left behind in California.

My phone lit up with a text from Abbie. She and Emery had been amazing about checking in on me regularly and keeping me updated with their news back home.

Abbie was just a week away from moving in with Aiden. He’d been stockpiling expensive treats to win over Mew, Abbie’s cat, in his new home. Mew was my boy since I’d taken care of him a couple of times this past year when Abbie was out of town. An avid anime fan, I’d sewn Mew a dozen or so cute outfits that he hated wearing, but he’d gone viral as a grumpy Pikachu and now had his very own Instagram account where his judginess could entertain the masses. Passing the torch of his account to Abbie was another thing I’d left behind.

Abbie

So I sort of did a thing.

Indie

Oh God. What does that mean? You’re not changing your mind about moving in with Aiden are you? Did you paint all the rooms in his house black without telling him? Did you cut yourself bangs and youare filled with immediate regret?

Abbie

No of course not! And no. If anything, it would be anime murals on all the walls. Could you imagine! And no. The Great Bang Experiment of sophomore year in high school cured me of bangs for the rest of my life.

When you use those examples, my “thing” might not be so bad. Promise you won’t be mad…

Indie

Geez. Never has any message in the history of messages ended well with those words.

Abbie

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