Page 17 of Huge Pucking Play

"Hey, girl," he says. "You look like you need this more than me." He slides the coffee over.

I grab it gratefully without hesitating. "You're a lifesaver. But, how did you get coffee? It says it’s all out." I glance back over at the machine.

“I brought it from home. This isn’t the first time someone forgot to order coffee. I don’t take any chances anymore,” he says while holding up a 32-ounce canister that I’m guessing now is completely empty.

"Rough day?" He leans back in his chair. "I, uh, may have overheard Marjorie earlier..."

I groan. "Don't remind me. That woman has it out for me, I swear."

"She's the worst," Adam agrees.

Adam continues. "You know, I had my own run-in with Marjorie when I first started here. It was a nightmare."

I lean forward, intrigued. "That sounds familiar but tell me about it again."

He sighs, running a hand through his meticulously styled hair. "It was about three years ago. I'd just started and was eager to prove myself. They assigned me to work with Blake Holbrook. You remember him?"

I nod. Blake had been a rising star until a career-ending injury a couple seasons ago.

"Well," Adam continues, "Blake was a piece of work. Cocky as hell, thought he knew better than everyone else. I'd give himexercises to do, and he'd ignore them completely. I'd tell him to ice, he'd use heat. It was ridiculous."

Adam's voice rises as he gets more animated. "One day, I caught him in the weight room, doing heavy squats when I'd explicitly told him to rest his knee. I lost it. Stormed in there, started yelling at him in front of everyone. Not my finest moment."

He pauses to take a sip of the coffee he had given to me. "Of course, Blake the dickhead complained to management. And guess who got wind of it?"

"Marjorie," I groan.

"Bingo." Adam's fingers tap a nervous rhythm on the table. "So, she calls me into her office and started in on me immediately about what happened with Holbrook. I tried to explain, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.”

Adam's voice drops to a whisper, mimicking Marjorie's tone. "'You've been here, what, three months? And already you're causing problems. Mr. Holbrook is a valuable asset to this team. If he says your methods aren't working, then clearly, you're not doing your job correctly.'"

He shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping. "Can you believe that? She didn't even want to hear my side. It was all about keeping the star player happy, never mind that he was sabotaging his own recovery."

Adam leans in, his eyes wide. "Then she said maybe they made a mistake hiring me and perhaps I’m not cut out to be a PT for the Blades. She went on and on about how many people applied for my job and, yet, they chose me and I need to follow protocol or else.”

He mimics Marjorie's clipped tone perfectly. "'But we chose you. Andthisis how you repay us? By alienating our star player?'"

"She told me one more complaint and I was out."

I sat there looking at him in disbelief.

"So what happened today with her?" he asks.

I explain the Barnesy situation, my frustration mounting. "And now she thinks I was flirting! As if I'd ever..."

Adam pats my arm sympathetically. "Marjorie wouldn't know flirting if it slapped her in the face with a hockey stick. I’m guessing no one has ever flirted with that woman her entire life."

I snort. "God, I wish she wasn't our boss."

"You and me both, girl," Adam sighs. "You and me both."

Adam's eyes suddenly light up. "Speaking of flirting, though..." He leans in conspiratorially. "Have you seen that new assistant coach? What I wouldn't give to get my hands on those biceps."

I nearly choke on my coffee. "Garrett?"

"That's the one," Adam purrs. "I'd let him coach me any day, if you know what I mean."

My stomach, flip-flops thinking about Garrett.

---