Page 2 of Puck You Very Much

“He should be upstairs in meeting room C. It’s best you leave now, so you don’t keep him waiting.”

Lucy had no choice but to smile and nod again. This was a test. She understood that much. This was her chance to shine, to cement her place on the PR team and impress her boss. And dammit, she would!

“No problem,” she repeated lightly, making her way to the stairs. Her stomach quieted and the nausea faded. It was the uncertainty that drove her crazy, so now that she had clear instructions, she felt better. She had been given a task that she would complete to the satisfaction of her boss. End of story.

But when she reached meeting room C, it was empty. No broad-shouldered hockey player in sight. Frowning, she stepped into the hallway, looked up and down its length, and noticed a tall, blond man in gym shorts and an L.A. Hawks jersey walking toward her. She hurried toward him.

“Pardon me, maybe you can help me. I’m looking for Dax Temple.”

When the player stopped, she recognized him as Matthew Payne, also a forward winger and, according to the media, Dax’s best friend. Jackpot!

He looked her over once—which didn’t take long given her size—and snorted loudly. “Believe me when I tell you: Better not look any further.”

She blinked in confusion. “Um, but I have to.”

“Okay, maybe you’re looking for him—but you don’t want to find him.”

“Yes, I do,” she insisted.

The guy narrowed his eyes. “You’re new here, right?”

She cleared her throat and nervously pushed a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Yes, I just started in the PR department. Today is my first day, but—”

“Okay, let me give you a piece of advice,” he interrupted, leaning toward her, his gaze intense. “As a kind of welcome-to-the-team gift: If you want to live a long, happy life, don’t talk to Dax on his birthday.”

“Well, for me, a happy life means keeping this job, and to do that I have to prepare him for a press conference,” she replied, taken aback. “It’s my first assignment. I can’t mess this up.”

Payne grimaced and scratched the back of his neck. “Shit. Lousy first task. Is this Leslie’s idea? She must have great faith in you.”

Lucy didn’t know how to respond, so she simply said, “Could you tell me where he is?”

The player let out a puff of air but nodded. “Fine. You’ll find that asshole in the gym.” He pointed down the hall. “Third door on the left. Good luck to you.”

“Okay,” Lucy replied, now a little worried. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, shaking his head. “Actually, I oweyoua drink, for telling you where to find the guy, today of all days.” He raised his hands and hurried off in the opposite direction.

Her brows knitted together as she watched him leave. That was weird—right?

Why would Payne call his best friend an asshole? Maybe the PR department only sold the friendship thing to the press because it sold more tickets and jerseys if the players seemed like buddies. What did she know? But it was irrelevant. She had a job to do, and Dax Temple couldn’t be that bad. In every interview she’d seen, he seemed friendly and funny. Sure, he was known for being a bit of a man-slut and a total jerk when it came to his stupid rivalry with Jack West, but which NHL player didn’t have quirks? No, she didn’t know the winger from Adam, so she’d face him without reservations. Every person deserved baseline respect and the benefit of the doubt.

Satisfied again, she lifted her chin, walked down the hallway, and stopped at the gym door. It was closed, so she knocked.

Nobody answered.

She knocked again, louder this time. She clearly heard a steady pounding behind the door. Was Mr. Temple perhaps wearing headphones and that was why he didn’t answer? She decided that was a good guess and went ahead and opened the door.

An array of treadmills, weight benches, leg presses, and other equipment met her eyes. Oh man.Gymwas the understatement of the century.FitnessPalacewould be much more suitable. Through a large picture window, the Californian summer sky was visible. There was definitely room for the entire L.A. Hawks squad on the machines. However, they were all empty, except for a single treadmill to her right, where the steady pounding was coming from.

Lucy stood on her tiptoes to peer over the other machines. Her heart jumped into her throat as she caught a glimpse of the man mercilessly abusing the treadmill.

Yep, that was Dax Temple. Six-foot-one, muscular, with dark hair that curled over his ears, and five-day stubble that was a few hours shy of making wary old ladies cross the street. He looked even better than he did on TV. That might have been because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Indeed. Because, damn!

His six-pack looked much more impressive in real life than on TV! Lucy had always suspected they’d been photoshopped, but, no ma’am, those muscles were real. Her heart rate skyrocketed. She wasn’t merely a professional, but also a woman with eyes and all, so she lifted her chin a little higher. She was glad she was wearing five-inch stilettos instead of the usual three-inch heels on this, her first day at work. Shoes always boosted her confidence a bit. But seeing half-naked, muscular men in real time—this would take some getting used to.

She rounded the last empty treadmill and stopped directly in front of Dax Temple, noticing he wasn’t wearing headphones. Nor hearing aids. So, there was no excuse for not acknowledging her.

She cleared her throat.

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