Page 25 of The Pucking Player

“Remember, I’ve got eyes everywhere.”

I nod once more and practically bolt from the room. As I make my way down the hallway, my heart’s pounding like I just finished a triple overtime.

But even as Coach’s threats echo in my ears, a foolish grin spreads across my face.

High stakes just make the game more interesting. And Sophie Novak is definitely worth the risk.

9

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND PR

SOPHIE

“Absolutely not!” I screech, nearly choking on my wine. “There’s no way I’m playing along with this, Jess. Have you completely lost your mind?”

Jessica leans casually against the kitchen island, her posture relaxed, entirely unfazed by my outburst. The warm glow from the pendant lights overhead highlights the amused glint in her eyes. “Come on, Soph. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s one evening. And it’ll do wonders for the team’s image.”

I slam my glass down on the quartz countertop, the sound echoing sharply through the pristine kitchen. Jessica’s kitchen is textbook modern elegance—gleaming stainless-steel appliances, sleek minimalist cabinets, and a view straight out ofArchitectural Digest. The glass extension at the back of her colonial house offers an unobstructed view of the snow-covered garden, now glowing softly under the lanterns she’s so tastefully placed around the yard.

“Not a big deal?” I sputter, throwing my hands in the air. “You want me topretendto date Liam O’Connor.Liam.O’Connor.The Defenders’ flagship debauchee! Daddy will have an aneurysm!”

Jessica chuckles, completely unfazed as she turns to stir something fragrant on the stove. The mouthwatering aroma of garlic and herbs fills the room, momentarily distracting me before I snap back to reality. “Dad’s been handled,” she says breezily. “He’s on board. Believe it or not.” She tosses the words over her shoulder like they’re the most natural thing in the world. “And it’s not dating. It’s just attending a gala together.”

I gape at her, utterly convinced I’ve stepped into some alternate dimension. “Daddy…agreedto this? Are we talking about the same Mark Novak? The man who practically dreams of wrapping us in bubble wrap until we’re forty?”

Jessica snorts, her lips twitching into a grin. “The one and only.”

My mind flashes back to last year, right after Jessica started working for the Defenders. Daddy had called us both into his study for what turned out to be the most awkward speech of my entire life. His face had been stern—no, downright apocalyptic. Even worse than the time Adam dented his prized vintage Camaro.

“Now, girls,” he’d begun, pacing the room like some overzealous general about to brief his troops, “you need to understand something about these hockey players.”

Jessica and I had exchanged glances, barely holding back our laughter as he launched into what could only be described as the World’s Most Over-the-Top Fatherly Warning.

“The only thing missing is a PowerPoint,” I’d whispered to Jessica, earning a muffled snicker.

“They’re like...like…” Dad had sputtered, waving a hand infrustration, clearly searching for the right analogy. “Likepiranhas! Yes, piranhas with sticks and charming smiles!”

I’d tried, I really had. But an unwanted laugh had slipped out, earning me an icy glare that could have frozen the Sahara.

“Laugh all you want,” he’d continued, undeterred, his tone as grave as if we were discussing a life-or-death mission. “One minute, you’re innocently chatting about the last game, and the next thing you know, you’re…entangled in some torrid locker room affair!”

Jessica, ever the diplomat, had managed to keep her face mostly straight. “Dad,” she’d said gently, “Rothschild hired me as the head of PR. I think I can handle a few hockey players.”

He’d turned to her, his eyes wide with paternal horror. “That’s exactly what they want you to think! They’ll lure you in with their… their…fancystick handlingand then—BAM!” He’d slammed his hand on the desk for emphasis, making us both jump. “Next thing you know, you’re writing a tell-all memoir and starring on trashy reality TV shows!”

“Seriously, Jess,” I press, pushing the memory of Dad’s ridiculous locker room warning to the back of my mind. “How on earth did you convince him to agree to this? Did you spike his protein shake or something?”

Jessica laughs, shaking her head. “Let’s just say the Defenders hired me for my credentials, not my connections. I can beverypersuasive when I need to be.”

I snort, crossing my arms. “Yeah, right. Next thing you’ll tell me he’s cool with Adam’s tattoo.”

The words are out before I can stop them, and I immediately slap a hand over my mouth. Jessica freezes, her spoon hovering midair. Her eyes widen, and her jaw practically hits the floor.

“Adam’swhatnow?” she exclaims, leaning forward like a shark that’s just scented blood in the water. “Our Adam? Mr. Straight-and-Narrow? Mr. I-never-even-got-detention? That Adam?”

I groan, already regretting my slip. “Oh God, Jess, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. He’s going to kill me.”

Jessica waves off my concern, her curiosity practically bubbling over. “Spill, baby girl. Where is it? What is it? And why on earth wasn’t I informed about this family scandal sooner?”

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