Page 4 of Dirty Pucker

“Ingrid will get you all set up when you meet with her,” Coach Porter says.

“Sounds good. I’ll be there.” I turn away and head to the locker room. I roll my eyes. This is gonna suck.

Chapter 2

Ingrid

My phone buzzes with a text as I walk into Spanky’s.

I step to the side so I’m not in the way and read the message from my cousin Theo.

Hey, running like 10 min late from practice, be there soon.

I type out a quick response.

No worries! I’ll grab a drink and a table. Take your time!

I walk up to the bar, careful to step over part of the carpeted floor that dips suddenly.

I smile and shake my head. This place is the definition of a dive bar.

I glance around at the dingy wood paneling along the walls and the brass light fixtures that hang from the ceiling. There’s a layer of dust on all of the glass fixtures, making the actual light they offer pretty dim. Two of the flatscreen TVs that hang over the bar work; one doesn’t. That’s an improvement though. Just a few months ago only one TV worked.

This is the place my hockey pro cousin and his teammates like to go to unwind after a game or practice. The drinks are strong and cheap, and the staff doesn’t bug them like at other places whenever they see pro athletes in the vicinity.

There are a couple of people ahead of me at the bar waiting to order from the bartender, so I check my work email on my phone to make sure I haven’t missed anything important.

I see an email from HR about the new player the Bashers just acquired in a last-minute trade. Del Richards.

I’m just a few weeks into this job and know zero about hockey, so I have no idea who he is. I’ve never met him and don’t even know what he looks like.

All I know is that Theo and his good friend and teammate, Xander, hate him. The rest of the guys on the Bashers hate him too. They told me Del is an asshole who’s known in the league for doling out cheap shots and picking fights constantly. He’s racked up the most penalty time of anyone in the NHL. Both Theo and Xander have been in nasty fights with the guy multiple times. None of the Bashers players are happy to have him on the team.

Del is also the older brother of my new friend Dakota. She’s complained about him being annoyingly overprotective her whole life.

I sigh, already nervous about working with him. Is he going to be combative with me too when I try to film him for social media?

I try not to freak myself out. I haven’t even met the guy yet.

I make a mental note to read that HR email as soon as I get home so I’m prepared when I meet Del tomorrow morning. Then I pull up the Bashers TikTok account that I started a few weeks ago when I was hired as the social media coordinator for the team. Fifty thousand followers already. I smile to myself, proud that I’ve been able to help them gain that many followers so quickly.

I check on how our latest post is doing. It’s a video I filmed of the team a couple of days ago as they boarded the team plane for an away game. All the guys were dressed in suits, so I filmed them on my phone. Then I posted a cheeky caption about well-dressed men, chose one of the top trending songs on TikTok to play over the clip, and then posted it.

It already has one hundred thousand views.

I smile, happy with how well it’s performing and all the positive comments from fans.

But a second later, nerves crackle in my stomach.

I’m doing a good job so far. But I’ve only been the team’s social media coordinator for not even a month. There’s still a lot of time for me to mess up…

That crackling feeling intensifies when I think about how different this job is from every other job I’ve ever had.

If you can even call those actual jobs.

A familiar stab of insecurity hits. It’s no secret I’m the dictionary definition of a spoiled rich girl. Theo and I are Thompsons—the Thompson Industries Thompsons, to be exact. Our family owns a ton of luxury hotels and properties all over the world, in addition to several other businesses.

From the day we were born, we never had to worry about money. Everything we could ever want has always been provided to us by our families.

---