Page 87 of Match Penalty

Brynn:I stopped by your apartment this morning to say hi before my yoga class but you weren't there. Early practice again?

Me:Needed to clear my head and get an early start on the auction checklist today, before tonight's game.

Brynn:You've got to stop torturing yourself like this.

I ignore her last message, and instead wind up and smack the puck, watching it sail into the net. The emerald dress I chose with the girls hangs in my office, a reminder of everything at stake.

The sound of doors opening startles me. Dad walks out onto the ice, still in his street shoes.

"Thought I'd find you here," he says, watching as I collect pucks. "How long have you been at it?"

"Just got here," I lie, but we both know better. The dark circles under my eyes tell a different story.

He studies me for a moment. "You know I'm doing this for you, don't you?"

"Maybe you should let me fight my own battles," I say, though I know he means well.

"What are you asking me to do?" he finishes quietly.

I pause, his question heavy between us. "I want..." My voice catches. "I don't know what I want anymore."

The sound of Angelica's voice when she answered JP's phone flashes through my mind, followed by the way he's been avoiding me at practice. The way his gaze cuts right through me like I'm not even there.

"If you miss, I can't stay here," I admit for the first time out loud to him. "I can't watch him with her, pretending everything's fine. I already have a transfer request drafted to the Hawkeyes farm team in Alberta. It won't be an administration assistant for the GM but it's a start, and there is a lot of space to move up."

Dad's sharp intake of breath tells me he wasn't expecting that. He's not happy about my decision, but it's still mine to make.

"Wait, Cammy—"

"Please," I cut him off. "I've made up my mind. Either he goes or I do."

"And what about Penelope? She's put years into helping you grow as her administrative assistant. And what about everything you've built here? Milo won't grow up with his sister close by, and what am I supposed to do without our weekly lunches?"

I think about my office upstairs, filled with auction preparations and years of memories. About Everett's trust in me to handle major events. About the players' wives and girlfriends who've become family. But mostly, about my dad, Brynn, and Milo.

"Sometimes you have to make hard choices," I say, echoing words he once told me.

"Is this about choices or about running away?"

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes again. This time it's Penelope.

Penelope:Emergency auction meeting in 30. Catering crisis.

"Duty calls," I say, grateful for the escape. "The auction won't plan itself."

Dad watches as I gather my gear. "Just remember something, Cam. No matter what you choose to do, I always want the best for you. I'm always in your corner—no matter what."

I carry his words with me as I head upstairs to change. The emerald dress catches my eye as I pass my office, its sequins catching the morning light. I chose it to make JP regret walking away. Now I wonder if I'm the one who needs to remember what I'm fighting for.

The day passes in a blur of last-minute auction details. Seating charts, catering emergencies, sound system checks—it's almost enough to distract me from tonight's game. Almost.

"Earth to Cammy," Brynn waves her hand in front of my face. We're doing final checks on the silent auction displays, but my mind keeps drifting to the ice below. "You went somewhere else for a minute there."

"Sorry," I mutter, adjusting a display card. "Just thinking about tonight."

"About the game or about seeing JP?"

I wince. "Both. Neither. I don't know anymore."

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