Page 12 of Hat Trick Daddies

Me? I’ve landed smack in the middle of a world-class hockey team.

Elite athletes, all of them in their physical prime, and I’m the one responsible for helping them stay that way.

My cheeks flush as I think about how close I’ll have to get to these players.

Adjusting their shoulders, assessing injuries, feeling the tension in their muscles, it’s going to take some serious professionalism to keep my cool.

I pass a framed photo of the team, their smiling faces frozen in celebration after a big win.

My gaze lingers on a few familiar ones, the twins with their cocky smirks, Brooks with his intense stare, Reggie in mid-laugh.

My chest tightens slightly as I wonder if I’ll ever feel like I truly belong here.

Lost in thought, I almost miss the turn for the breakroom.

Shaking my head, I adjust the strap of my bag and steel myself. First days are always chaotic, I remind myself. I just need to take it one step at a time.

I’m so lost in my thoughts, staring at the polished floors as I walk, that I don’t see what’s in front of me until it’s too late.

I crash into something, or someone, and stumble back, my bag slipping from my shoulder. The hallway fills with a sudden, frantic caw, and a blur of red feathers flutters past my face.

My heart leaps into my throat as I realize I’ve run into a woman who’s now sprawled on the floor, her black hair fanned out around her like a halo.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I stammer, crouching down to help her up.

The woman blinks up at me, her chocolate-brown eyes wide with surprise. “It’s fine.”

I glance up and see the source of the commotion. It’s a large macaw perched on a nearby railing, its vivid red and blue feathers shimmering under the fluorescent lights.

It flaps its wings furiously, letting out another loud screech.

“Is that…?” I start, but the woman waves me off as she pushes herself to her feet.

“It’s fine, really,” the woman says, brushing off her pants and holding out her arm. With an expert calmness, she clicks her tongue and extends her hand toward the macaw.

The bird hesitates for a moment before hopping onto her forearm, still ruffled but visibly settling down.

I lean down and pick up her hair clip, watching her swiftly tie her hair back up with one hand, clipping it in securely.

“Sorry about that,” she says with a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t paying attention either.”

“No, it’s completely my fault,” I insist. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She adjusts the bird on her arm, stroking its feathers gently. The macaw eyes me warily, its sharp beak clicking as if it’s deciding whether or not I’m a threat.

“I’m Ally Perry, the new sports medicine fellow.”

The woman grins, her brown eyes warming. “Kenzie Wood. I’m the veterinarian in charge of managing the macaws.”

I blink, glancing at the bird on her arm. “Wait, macaws? As in plural?”

Kenzie laughs. “Oh, you’ve got a lot to learn about this place.”

I feel like an idiot, but I can’t help apologizing again. “I’m really sorry about the whole…crashing into you thing.”

Kenzie waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. Just watch where you’re walking next time. You don’t want to scare the birds. They’ve got long memories.”

I glance at the macaw, whose glare seems to confirm her words.

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