Page 31 of Bar Down

Her expression went cold instantly. "What about them?"

"I noticed you researching the Vancouver situation with Chambers yesterday morning. Is that why you canceled our meeting?"

Shock flashed across her face. "How did you—"

"IT logged unusual search patterns from your office. Oliver mentioned it." He held her gaze. "The leak wasn't my doing. I spoke out against how management used that data."

"I know," she said quickly. "I found the articles. Reed must have known I'd look into it."

"Reed?" Marcus's eyes narrowed. "What did he say about Chambers?"

Stephanie hesitated, then sighed. "He texted me yesterday, trying to make me think you were just like him—using analytics to destroy careers. That's why I researched Vancouver instead of meeting you."

Understanding clicked into place. "So that's his play. Turn us against each other using the Vancouver situation."

"It didn't work," she said firmly. "Reed twisted the truth, just like he did in Boston."

Relief eased the tension he'd been carrying. "Good. Then we're still on the same page."

"It's not that simple, Marcus." Her voice dropped lower, more urgent. "Reed isn't just coming after me. He's setting you up too. If he has Westfield's ear—"

"Then our presentation needs adjustments," he finished. "We need to counter whatever narrative they're building."

Relief flickered across her face. "I've made revisions already. We'll review before submission."

"Good." He met her eyes directly. "Watch your back. Toronto media gets nasty during ownership transitions."

The switch to a more professional tone seemed to reassure her. "I've handled worse than Toronto reporters."

"I know," he said simply. "Game time is 7:30."

"I'll be there."

He hesitated, then added, "About the other thing... that's not going away either."

Her eyes met his, something vulnerable and wanting beneath her professional veneer. "I know.”

As he walked away, Marcus analyzed her reaction to the conversation—the tension in her shoulders giving way to something lighter when they discussed the kiss, the spark in her eyes when he promised they'd handle things together. Whatever threat she faced from Reed, she wasn't facing it alone anymore.

By the time he reached the lobby, he'd decided to bail on lunch with Amara. After texting his sister an excuse, he redirected his next two hours to digging into Preston Reed's time in Boston—specifically, his interactions with Stephanie and the pattern of career sabotage that followed.

Game prep could wait. Some variables mattered more than hockey. And after that kiss, Stephanie Ellis had become the most important variable in his equation.

***

STEPHANIE

Stephanie stood near the press box, watching her players circle the visiting end during warmups, Kane leading with practiced confidence.

Her eyes tracked Marcus automatically. Number 47, each shot placed with sniper-like accuracy during his shooting routine. After their kiss yesterday, watching him felt different—more intimate, like she had access to a part of him others didn't. His powerful frame moved with surprising grace for a man who made his living shutting down the league's best scorers.

"Ellis! Didn't expect to see you in Toronto."

The voice froze her blood. Preston Reed materialized beside her, his tailored suit and practiced smile unchanged except for touches of gray at his temples.

"Reed," she acknowledged coolly. "I wasn't aware you had business in Toronto."

"I have business wherever Darby needs expertise." His eyes remained cold. "Jack mentioned your project with Adeyemi. Quite the turnaround from your usual stance on working with a numbers guy."

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