Page 66 of Huge Pucking Play

I ladle soup into bowls, the rich red color a perfect complement to the golden sandwiches. "Whatever works. I just want you healthy."

Her first bite of the sandwich draws a sound of appreciation. "This is incredible." She takes another bite, cheese stretching in strings between the bread and her mouth. "How is your grilled cheese this good?"

I shrug, pleased with her reaction. "Secret's in the butter. And using more than one type of cheese."

"There's another cheese in here?" She inspects the sandwich with new interest.

"Gruyère. Melts better than cheddar."

She shakes her head, clearly impressed. "Hockey player, coach, gourmet grilled cheese maker. You're full of surprises, Hughes."

We eat in comfortable silence, the tension easing a bit with each bite. The simple act of sharing food has shifted the mood, grounded us both. I watch her eat with satisfaction, noting how she's already consumed half the sandwich and started on the soup.

After dinner, I pace the length of my living room, each step measured and deliberate.

"I could go directly to Marjorie," I say, my voice deceptively calm, betraying none of the fury inside me. "Have a little chat about workplace harassment."

Cyn shakes her head, concern evident in her eyes. She's curled into the corner of my couch with Shade sitting right next to her. "That would make it worse. She'd see it as confrontation, and she'd take it out on me."

"She's already taking it out on you." I stop pacing and face her. "This needs to end.”

"What are you going to do?" There's both hope and worry in her question.

I sit on the coffee table across from her, our knees almost touching. "First thing tomorrow, I'm talking to Martinez. He needs to know what's happening."

"Will he care? He relies on Marjorie."

"He will care." I reach for her hand. "Tony's a good man, and he values you. The entire team does. You've helped at least half of those guys stay on the ice this season."

She doesn't look convinced.

"I was already planning to talk to him about us," I continue. "But this—" I gesture between us, "—isn't something we need to hide. It's not wrong. And using it to threaten your job? That's crossing a line."

"If that doesn't work, I go to HR. And if they drag their feet, I go to ownership."

Her eyes widen. "You'd talk to George Corso about this?"

"In a heartbeat." The owner of the Blades isn't someone staff typically interact with, but I've known him for years. "George and I go way back. He'll listen."

I stand again, unable to contain my energy. "This was always going to come out, Cyn. We're having a baby. We're building something together. I was just waiting for the right time, but Marjorie forced our hand."

"I'm scared," she admits, voice barely audible.

The naked vulnerability in those two words almost breaks me. I kneel in front of her, the gravity of the situation settling in.

"Let me be clear about something," I say, holding her gaze. "If—and this is a big if—things go badly with the team, you will be okay. We will be okay. I have resources, connections. There are other teams, other clinics that would be lucky to have you."

"I don't want other teams." Her eyes fill with tears. "I want to keep my job."

"And you will." My voice hardens with conviction. "This is what I do, Cyn. I strategize. I anticipate problems and solve them. On the ice and off."

A ghost of a smile touches her lips. "Coach mode activated?"

"Damn right." I stand up again. "Tomorrow morning, I'll meet with Martinez first thing. I'll lay out the situation—professionally. No emotional outbursts. Just facts. Then we go to HR together to document Marjorie's behavior."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Then we escalate. George Corso doesn't tolerate bullies. And there's also the legal angle—sexual discrimination is against the law. We have options, Cyn. "

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