Page 4 of Shot Through the Heart

“Miss Clarke!” Kathy exclaims, stuttering to try to backtrack.

Holding Lucy’s impassive gaze, I cut off Kathy’s ramblings about professionalism.

“No one is going to hurt my feelings by swearing around me.” I pause, trying to figure out what this conversation has to do with both HR and media relations. Grinding my teeth, I try to keep the bite out of my words. “What does the internet’s opinion have to do with me? I’m doing my job.”

“Yes. Quite well, actually. You’re one of the best forwards in the rankings and the season hasn’t even started.” Lucy nods, drawing in a deep breath. “However, this image that is being painted of you is now starting to reflect poorly on the team. There are accusations being made that you’re rude to your teammates, that you start fights for no reason, and it’s leading to question if the Bobcats management is fine with bad behavior simply because you play so well.”

My brows scrunch together as I shake my head. “Except I’ve never once gotten in a fight with any of my teammates and I’m the least rough on the ice out of everyone.”

Lucy shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. You blow off your fans. You don’t attend team events unless they’re mandatory. The few times you are spotted in public, it’s at a bar and refuse to talk to anyone who isn’t a Bobcat player.”

I raise a brow. “So, because I’m not a people person, everyone automatically assumes I’m an asshole who causes issues with my team?”

“Basically.”

Scrubbing a hand down my face, I suck in a deep breath. It’s one thing if people are making assumptions about me. But even I know that if things keep blowing out of proportion and are left unchecked, it will impact the whole team.

“Okay, so what does this mean?”

“That you need to partake in some team events, not just outings to the bar with your line. Maybe find a friend or partner to tag along and soften your image.”

There’s no hiding my scowl. “Soften my image?”

Lucy nods, not seeming to find any issue in what she just said. “Yup. Right now, you’re being painted as this rude, grumpy, intense guy. Best way to lighten that is to show yourself with people not on the team. A sibling, a friend…a partner.”

“I don’t—” I cut myself off, not wanting to snap at her for bringing up the sore topic of relationships. I school my features before I continue. “I’m an only child and my teammates are my friends.”

That doesn’t deter Lucy. “Well, I’m sure some of them have some friends they can share for events. Bottom line is, we need you to appear friendly. Be nice to fans if they approach you, within reason, of course. Smile in pictures they want to take.” She lifts the folder from earlier and hands it to me. “I understand not being a people person. So as a compromise, here’s a list of events the team needs to participate in this season. Pick at least six to attend for photo ops. With your permission, we are going to start a personal social media account for you. You’re more than welcome to run it yourself, or I am happy to do it for you with pictures from these events.”

I shake my head.

“I don’t see how being on an app and attending these things will help.”

“A picture is worth a thousand words. And sometimes showing a genuine smile is worth even more.”

The bar is the last place I want to be right now. Especially after Lucy’s comment about how I’m only seen here. One of the reasons we come to this bar so much is because it’s literally right beside the building most of us live in. Hell, the team is the one who puts us up in these condos, so really, it’s on them.

If it weren’t for the fact that Dean was outside finishing up a call, I probably would have gotten away with not joining them. But the moment he saw me, he yanked open the door and called out for someone to get me a beer for my winning shot.

At least he didn’t try to hug me.

“You look like you need this,” Dom says, setting a full glass of beer down in front of me.

“You have no idea,” I grumble before chugging half the drink in an attempt to ease the frustration bubbling just below the surface.

Dominik doesn’t say anything, simply choosing to plop down into the open seat beside me. We both sit in silence, watching our teammates scatter throughout the bar as the night crowd starts to grow.

My skin prickles while I take in all the newcomers with a different light. I can’t help but wonder who’s watching in hopes of catching me being an asshole in person so they can continue spreading lies.

Although is that what they are? Maybe those articles are just saying what I’ve been avoiding to acknowledge. I have shut myself off to an almost unrecognizable degree. Secluded myself to the point of only talking to my parents or my team. If I were to actually take a step back and look at it from an outside perspective, it’s not hard to see where the media is drawing their conclusions from.

The beer turns sour in my stomach and I clear my throat.

“I’m gonna call it a night,” I tell Dom, pushing my half-drunk beer away before standing.

“I’ll head out with you. I was hoping to catch Lilly before she went to bed,” Dom offers and I bite back my annoyance at having to wait. It’s only a matter of seconds, but when you’re already peopled out, moving at someone else’s pace is irritating.

After saying quick goodbyes to the guys closest to us, I follow Dominik and we make the short walk to our condos.

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