Page 101 of Captain's Claim

"Thanks, Mom."

After we hang up, I stand before my bedroom mirror. As odd as they were, my mom's words echo in my head.

Because she's right. That’s exactly what’s happening.

Not just the media frenzy, not just the board’s expectations, but everything.

This career I’ve fought for so long… is becoming the very thing I feared.

I take a long, deep breath. The daily boardroom meeting starts in an hour. I've spent months fighting to prove myself, bending over backward to show my worth.

For what?

So they can reduce me to Blake's PR girlfriend?

My reflection hardens. No. No fucking way.

Today that changes.

***

The sun is shining over a bright, beautiful winter's day in Iron Ridge, but even still, the boardroom has never looked so polished.

Of course, the usual sleek, professional setup remains. The long oak table, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Iron Ridge’s clock tower, even the food in the table is there.

But today, it'spiled high.

Higher than usual.

And as I walk inside with my shoulders back, my face determined after talking with mother dear this morning, my eyes catch on something sitting on the table in front of my usual spot.

What the…

A massive bouquet of deep red roses sits in front of my usual chair, the fragrance so strong it nearly knocks me over. Beside it are two unopened bottles of wine - one red, one white. A small white card leans between them.

"For the woman who’s changed the game."

Greg grins like a proud father as he bursts inside the boardroom. “Sophia! Welcome! Thought we’d celebrate a little. Didn’t know your favorite drop, so you get both.”

He chuckles and pulls out a seat beside Big Mike, who's nodding approvingly at the head of the table.

“You deserve it. We’ve got big things to discuss today.”

I set my bag down and plaster my best fake smile.

"Okay.. thanks for the wine and flowers."

I scan the room, pulse kicking up. There are too many people here. More than there usually is.

And not just the usual Icehawks executives. No. More suits. Bigger names.

People I don’t recognize. People Idorecognize. NHL executives.

My stomach plummets.

Greg claps his hands together. "First off, congratulations, Sophia. We've discussed it all before, but the numbers arebeyondanything we imagined, and they just keep rising."

Greg starts a slow clap that spreads through the room like a stadium wave. The kind that makes me want to crawl under the table and hide with the dust bunnies.

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