Page 56 of Bar Down

"Only mildly?" he asked, pulling her closer.

"Don't push your luck." But she didn't resist when he wrapped an arm around her waist. "This plan will work. We stop Reed, expose his manipulation, and get back to our regular jobs of you annoying me with statistical probabilities and me ignoring them in press releases."

Marcus studied her face—the determined set of her jaw, the intelligence in her eyes, the slight vulnerability she allowed only him to see. Something shifted in his chest, a recalibration of priorities that no equation could have predicted.

"When this is over," he said, his voice low, "we should discuss long-term strategic alignment."

Her eyebrow arched. "Is that analytics-speak for 'dating'?"

"It's analytics-speak for something more significant than dating," he clarified. "But we can start with the traditional protocols and progress accordingly."

"You're impossible," she murmured, but her eyes softened.

"Improbable," he corrected. "Not impossible. There's a critical difference in statistical terms."

She laughed and pushed away from him, straightening her dress. "Save the statistics lesson for after we save our careers. We've got work to do."

Marcus watched her gather her things, the analytical part of his brain calculating their chances of success while another part—one he'd long ignored—simply admired her strength. In hockey, he'd always valued teammates who performed under pressure. Stephanie was proving to be the ultimate clutch player.

"I’m shooing you out of my office now," she said. "I need to start laying groundwork for our distraction. And you need some downtime to prepare for the game tomorrow.”

He kissed her because he couldn’t help himself.

She rubbed her hand over the stubble on his cheek. “We should also plan a celebration after this works. Because we’re going to win.”

The conviction in her voice struck him like a perfect slapshot—clean, powerful, unstoppable. "I've run the numbers," he replied seriously. "And for once, I'm not just trusting the analytics. I'm trusting us."

Her smile was brief but brilliant before he slipped out the door.

Chapter Fourteen

Stephanie

24 Hours remaining

Stephanie had lied to a lot of people in her PR career. White lies, strategic omissions, half-truths—they were professional tools, not character flaws. But selling Jack Westfield on inviting Preston Reed to the executive box tonight required her A-game.

---