Page 1 of Major Penalty

Chapter one

~IRENE~

Okay, no big deal. This is fine. Everything is fine. I’m just standing in the middle of the LA Panthers’ headquarters, completely and utterly lost.

I shift my tablet to my other hand and scan the hallway like I’m not two seconds from bursting into nervous laughter. This place is insane. Bright lights, sleek glass walls, and high-tech everything. It smells like money, testosterone, and a bit of danger.

I grew up hearing about hockey from my father. The Panthers? Their LA’s own and one of the baddest, most talked-about franchises in the league. Even if you don’t watch hockey, you know who they are. You’ve seen their names in headlines, faces in commercials, and championships plastered all over sports history. Well, now that my father is their coach, I have to hear about them every night at dinner since I got back from college. And I’m supposed to work here for my summer break as a PT assistant with a team of elite-level athletes who could probably crush my skull between their biceps like a stress ball.

I square my shoulders and attempt to look like I know where I’m going, despite the fact I have no idea if this is even the correct floor.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out, glancing at the screen. Sidney.

I hit answer. "If you're calling to check if I survived my first five minutes at the Panthers' headquarters, the answer is debatable."

"You got lost, didn't you?" Sid deadpans.

I scowl. "No." A pause. "Okay, fine. Yes. But in my defense, this place looks like the kind of facility where billionaires build secret underground lairs."

"Right, except it’s just a bunch of sweaty hockey players who could probably bench-press you for fun."

“Exactly! Which is why I need to find the office before someone thinks I’m a wide-eyed fan who wandered in with a fake badge.”

Sid hums in agreement. "Remind me again—how did you, someone with exactly zero interest in hockey, end up working for an NHL team?"

"Nepotism." I sigh, rubbing my temple. "But, like, quiet nepotism. I’m trying to act like I belong here."

"Yeah, babe. You’re crushing it."

I groan, taking another turn that looks suspiciously like the last one. "If I don’t find this damn office soon, I’m going to start leaving breadcrumbs."

"Or, and hear me out…you could just ask someone for directions."

"No. Absolutely not. That would require admitting I have no idea what I’m doing, which is already pretty obvious without me saying it out loud."

Sid snickers. "Good point. Carry on wandering aimlessly, then."

"That’s the plan. I’ll call you later if I survive."

"Or if you end up kidnapped by a hockey player."

"Same difference." I hang up and stuff my phone back in my pocket.

I roll my shoulders back, exhaling sharply.

You’ve got this, Irene. You are a professional. You are competent. You are not just a little nepotism hire who got this summer gig because of her father.

Even though…yeah. That’s kind of exactly what happened. No one needs to know. And I’d prefer to keep it that way.

I take another turn, trying not to look like I’m strolling around like a lost child at Disneyland. I mean, come on, how hard can it be to find one room—

Thump.

I stop.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

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