Page 27 of Bar Down

He opened the door, nodding to Oliver who waited in the corridor. As he walked away, Marcus heard Stephanie begin discussing the media schedule with Chenny, her voice completely professional as if she hadn't just been thoroughly kissed against her desk.

The woman's composure was truly remarkable. Almost as remarkable as the way she kissed.

As Marcus headed back to the locker room, he caught himself counting the hours until they'd board the team plane tomorrow morning and be with her again.

***

STEPHANIE

Stephanie watched Marcus leave, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe as he stepped into the corridor. When Oliver finally left and the door closed behind him, she collapsed into her chair, fingers touching her lips where Marcus's had been only moments before.

That kiss. God, that kiss. She'd been fighting her attraction to him for months, channeling it into professional sparring matches instead of what she really wanted. And now that she knew how his mouth felt against hers, how his hands felt on her body, how he tasted—there was no going back.

But the message that had started this whole morning still glowed ominously on her phone screen:

Westfield tells me you're working closely with Adeyemi on some community project. Interesting choice of ally. His analytics destroyed Chambers' career in Vancouver, you know. Once a numbers guy, always a numbers guy. Careful who you trust, Steph.

Stephanie stared at Reed's words again, recognizing the manipulation for what it was. Classic Reed—trying to drive a wedge between her and Marcus by linking him to Kevin Chambers, a coach whose career had ended after a scathing analytical review. The message was obvious: See? Marcus is just like me. He uses numbers to destroy people too. Don't trust him.

She'd spent the morning researching the Vancouver situation instead of meeting with Marcus, terrified that he might actually be the ruthless numbers guy Reed was painting him as. What she'd found told an entirely different story.

Yes, Marcus's analytics had identified fundamental flaws in Chambers' system, but he hadn't published them publicly or used them as a weapon. They'd been leaked by someone in management, twisted and used in a way Marcus never intended. He'd even spoken out afterward, arguing that the data had been presented without proper context and used unfairly.

The irony wasn't lost on her. Reed was using the exact same playbook against Marcus that he'd used against her in Boston—twisting facts to create a false narrative. He was trying to poison her against the one person who might actually understand what she was facing.

Marcus wasn't the enemy. He never had been. Their professional disagreements came from different approaches to the same goal—protecting the team and helping them succeed.

And that kiss... That wasn't professional at all. That was pure chemistry, the kind she hadn't felt in years. The kind that made her stomach flip and her skin tingle just remembering it.

Her office phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. The receptionist's voice came through, falsely cheerful.

"Ms. Ellis? Jack Westfield is here to see you. He doesn't have an appointment, but he says it's important."

Stephanie's pulse jumped, but her voice stayed steady. "Send him in."

She stood, straightening her blazer and running a hand through her hair, trying to erase any evidence of Marcus's touch. Battle mode engaged.

Jack Westfield entered with the confident stride of a man accustomed to ownership. Tall, silver-haired, and expensively dressed, he carried himself with the easy arrogance of privilege she'd learned to manage throughout her career.

"Ms. Ellis. Thank you for making time." His handshake was firm, his smile practiced. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything crucial."

Just sorting through the aftermath of getting thoroughly kissed by your star defenseman,she thought wryly.

"Not at all. How can I help you?"

"I understand you and Mr. Adeyemi are preparing a presentation on our community programs." He dropped uninvited into the chair opposite her desk. "I'm intrigued by this partnership. I was under the impression you two had somewhat adversarial professional viewpoints."

The casual reference to their working relationship sent warning bells clanging in her head. How closely had they been watched? Did he somehow know about what had just happened?

"Professional disagreement is healthy," she replied carefully. "We both want what's best for the organization, even if we sometimes differ on approach."

"I see." Westfield's smile never reached his eyes. "I've always believed that creative tension produces the best results. Speaking of results—an old colleague of yours reached out. Preston Reed? He speaks very highly of your time together in Boston."

Stephanie kept her expression neutral through sheer force of will. "Mr. Reed and I had different philosophies as well."

"So diplomatic." Westfield chuckled. "He mentioned you were skilled at... what did he call it? 'Narrative control.' I believe that was the phrase."

Each word felt like a landmine being placed at her feet. Stephanie navigated carefully.

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