Page 23 of The Pucking Player

The tension in Coach’s office is thick enough to skate on, while I lean back in my chair, trying not to grin like an idiot.

“We need to turn this PR nightmare around,” Rothschild growls, taking Jessica’s side. “If we don’t act fast, the PED scandal is all they’ll remember about us.”

“I agree, but this is going too far. There must be another girl that can step in.”

“The Hope for Heroes gala.” Jessica leans forward as if she hadn’t heard Coach, looking from her father to Rothschild. “It’s the perfect opportunity to shift the narrative.”

Rothschild turns to her. “Go on.”

“It’s a fundraiser for pediatric cancer research,” Jessica explains. “If we have Liam and Sophie show up together, it’ll demonstrate our commitment to the community. It could go a long way in rebuilding our image.”

Coach’s face darkens like a thundercloud. “Absolutely not. We are not using my daughter as a PR prop.”

“Dad, it’s not like that,” Jessica argues. “Sophie’s already involved with the hospital. This is a natural fit.”

“Natural fit?” Coach scoffs. “There’s nothing naturalabout parading my little girl around on the arm of,” he gestures at me, “Casanova of the Year here.”

I lean back in my chair, the picture of nonchalance. “Coach, I’m hurt. I’ll have you know I was only runner-up for that title.”

Coach glares at me. “You’re not helping your case, O’Connor.”

Rothschild jumps in. “Now, now, let’s think about this rationally. The optics could be very good for us.”

“Optics?” Coach’s voice rises. “We’re talking about my daughter here!”

“Liam,” Jessica turns to me, probably hoping to diffuse some tension, “how would you feel about attending this gala?”

I shrug, the perfect image of indifference. “Sure, I’m in. Anything for the team, right?”

But in my head, I’m already planning my acceptance speech for Luckiest Guy Alive.

“No!” Coach roars.

“Dad,” Jessica turns to Coach, her voice calm and reasonable. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, the picture of earnest concern. “It’s one evening. Please don’t make this a big deal.”

Coach’s scowl deepens, but Jessica presses on, her tone taking on a hint of enthusiasm. “Sophie’s pre-med, she volunteers at the children’s hospital. This isn’t just about PR for the team, it’s an opportunity for her too. It’s a win-win.”

I watch, impressed as Jessica works her magic. She’s like a master conductor, orchestrating the situation with precision.

“Think about it,” she continues, straightening in her chair. Her eyes light up. “This gala is a huge networking playfield. The guest list is full of top-tier doctors, hospitaladministrators, research scientists—people who could be instrumental in Sophie’s future career.”

Coach’s expression starts to soften, just a fraction. Jessica, sensing her advantage, goes in for the kill.

“Dad, you’ve always said you want the best for our futures. Think of the connections she could make in a single evening. It could open doors for her we can’t even imagine right now.”

And that’s the final blow. I can see Coach wavering, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Jessica’s perfectly crafted argument. His shoulders sag slightly, and he runs a hand over his face.

“You might be right about that.” His voice is gruff but still uncertain.

Jessica nods emphatically. “Absolutely. It’s a win-win. The team gets good PR, and Sophie gets to network with some of the biggest names in medicine. All while supporting a great cause. It couldn’t be more perfect if we tried.”

I bite back a grin, marveling at Jessica’s skill. In the span of a few minutes, she’s managed to turn Coach’s protective instincts into a reason to support this plan. It’s like watching a master class in persuasion.

Coach lets out a heavy sigh, and I know the battle is won. “Fine,” he grumbles. “But Sophie has the final say. If she’s not comfortable with this, it’s off the table.”

Jessica beams, the picture of a dutiful daughter. “That goes without saying, Dad. I’ll talk to her.”

As Coach nods reluctantly, I catch Jessica’s eye. She throws me a quick wink, and I have to stifle a laugh.

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