Page 154 of The Stud

For an untracked amount of time, all Hennington does is stare.

Whether she’s reading my soul or casting a curse on me to last a thousand games is anyone’s guess.

Either way?

She is still one of the most attractive, most terrifying snipes I’ve ever crossed.

Coach abruptly bursts into the room on a loud muttering, “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Our trade had issues and then it didn’t and then it did and now, we’re good again or at least I think we’regood again.” His hands roll around one another to emphasize the commotion. “We fucking should be. And this close to deadline I know you need us to be. So, I’m gonna say we are.” He stops his frame on the side of her desk and firmly folds his arms across his chest. “I’m gonnabelievethat we are.”

“I’m gonna believe that shit too because I cannot handle one more fucking headache, Blanc. For four days…four…fucking…days…I’ve been in more meetings with legal and public relations than when I took over the fucking team, on top of having to renegotiate that deal for some college kid that hasn’t even graduated yet and magically find cap space needed to for all three playoff runs to have their necessary trades.” She gives her long hair a frustrated ruffle. “One more problem with this team, and I’m just gonna set the barn on fire. Call it an accident.”

He struggles not to smirk. “Arson,boss.”

“Not if they can’t prove it.”

“They can.”

“But we don’t know that theywould.”

Seeing the mirthful twinkle in her expression convinces me now is probably the best time to hear the news.

Rip off the bandage.

Thank them for my time in Dalvegan and ask when I can expect a ring from my new GM.

“Alright,” clearing my throat gathers both sets of eyes, “where exactly am I going?”

Hennington leans back in her seat and gives her Dalvegan green cropped suit jacket a tiny tug. “You tell me.”

“Pardon?”

“Where exactlyisthis shit with you and Hoss going?”

Confusion crinkles my forehead.

“Was it wheeling that went on for too long and you two needed an excuse to stop but couldn’t come up with one or are you secretly in love with her like Khurana whoquitafter she knocked out one of his teeth in the parking lot of the new LMC?”

“She knocked out one of his teeth?!”

“I was actuallyplanningon firing him,” the owner continues onward as if I hadn’t interjected, “but him quitting saves me so much paperwork, so he’s got some of my gratiskies for that.”

“Why were you going to fire him?”

“Fraternization really isn’t an issue for me like it is the league.”

Hope threatens to light up my entire complexion.

“It’s thelyingand thedeceitand not being able to fuckingtrustthe people we need to trust that’s the problem.”

Culpability shoves me back down into the chair.

“And Khurana hit the hat trick in his efforts to bag Hoss. He lied aboutyou.To the boys. The dancers. To the press. To the department. He misspokeabout directives in an attempt to keep Hoss with him rather than you. And then the three seconds to go gino to top it all off is the fact he conspiredwithHoss’s twinskie to trap you both and expose what wasn’t their business to expose, ultimately embarrassing this teampubliclyand at theworst fucking momentcosting me clout I could’ve used for trade negotiations.”

Why does it not surprise me that those two were workingtogetherto try to split us up?

“This organization couldn’t trust him,” she casually leans back in her chair and tosses one leg over the other, “and now I need to know if it can trustyou.”

An audible gulp can be heard around the room.

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