Page 89 of Unleashed

“Raelynn Hossman, you arenotbaby-talking that cat? Does Hoss know?” Millsy fussed with her tablet. “I need video of this business, right flippin’ now. Nobody’s gonna believe me. Rae babyin’ a cat. Seen everything now, I have.”

Adele and I laughed until we caught Rae’s scowl. But I couldn’t wipe the smile away entirely. Rae could give Bright a run for his money in the grumpy expressions department.

“Mind your own, Miller Pendleton.”

As the two women bickered about grumpy looks and the use of Millsy’s full given name, I exchanged a look with Adele. My bestie grinned, her eyes sparkling. She mouthed, “We can do this,” and I nodded. I’d have to put my personal worries aside. I needed to do this for my friend.

“Don’t you have muffins to bake, Raelynn?” Millsy added a sweeping motion toward the back of the bakery.

Rae’s eyes burned with hell fury. “I sure do. And don’t you bother coming in tomorrow,Miller. We’re gonna mysteriously run out of peanuts come tomorrow.”

Millsy muttered something under her breath about being saddled with a damn, stupid boy’s name, shoving her tablet into her designer bag with a sharp, efficient motion. Then she stood, all cool confidence, like she hadn’t just been bickering with Rae two seconds ago.

“I’ll see you both at eleven,” she announced. A formal invitation wrapped in command.

The filmmaker in me cataloged the details—the way she controlled the moment, the calculated ease in her stance, the unspoken expectation that we’d follow her lead. A power play, subtle but undeniable. “The development center. Don’t be late.”

I pressed my thumb against my wrist, steadying my pulse while my mind raced through implications. Showing up uninvited to pitch Jasper Pendleton could torpedo our careful reputation-building. But having Millsy shepherd us in? Not showing up was unthinkable.

Beside me, Adele wiggled with uncontained excitement. I shot her a warning look—maintain composure—before turning back to Millsy. “We appreciate the opportunity.”

“Darlings, this isn’t charity.” Millsy paused at the door, those shrewd eyes missing nothing. “Your work speaks for itself. Just make sure you’re ready to show Jasper exactly what Three Corners Productions can do.”

The bell chimed her exit, leaving us to process the seismic shift in our morning plans. I held a piece of croissant up to Bright while my brain kicked into analytical mode. Having our youth program footage in front of Jasper Pendleton wasn’t just about proving our technical skills—it was about reinforcing what he’d already seen in the tribute episode. Showing him our commitment to honest storytelling rather than manufactured drama.

“If Millsy knows we did the tribute episode...” Adele’s voice trailed off meaningfully.

“Then Jasper definitely knows.” I finished her thought, the pieces clicking into place. “The youth footage isn’t about proving ourselves—it’s about showing consistency. That we can maintain quality without resorting to Malone’s tactics.”

If I could just keep my professional mask in place when facing both Jack and Malone in the same room.

Bright headbutted my chin, grounding me in the present. Right. One crisis at a time. First, we had a highlight reel to curate - one that would draw a clear line between Malone’s vision and ours.

Ipressedmythumbagainst my wrist, counting heartbeats while Mark Malone worked his magic behind the conference room’s glass walls. His Armani suit and slicked-back hair looked as out of place in Three Corners Development Center as I felt right now. But unlike me, Malone wore his displacement like armor—every pristine inch screaming “I belong wherever I say I belong.”

“Stop fidgeting,” Adele whispered, though her own fingers drummed against her tablet. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m not fidgeting.” But I forced my hands to still. Through the glass, Malone’s practiced smile flashed as he gestured to something on the screen behind him. Even from our spot in the hallway, I could see the Hollywood polish that had once dazzled me as he showed film fromUnleashed. Film that we had created. He claimed responsibility, as we’d always known he would.

The conference room and a number of offices circled the main ice rink from above, with glass windows allowing sight down below. Movement on the ice caught my eye. Jack worked with two adults, demonstrating something that had them nodding and grinning. Even from this distance, his presence commanded attention—that quiet authority that had first drawn me to him evident in every controlled movement.

My throat tightened. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“Don’t you dare.” Adele’s voice dropped low, fierce. “We earned this shot. And Jack Vignier doesn’t get to derail our future just because you broke his heart.”

“Pretty sure it was mutual heart-breaking.” The words scraped my throat raw. “But he could sink this deal with one word to Jasper. You saw how he looked at me yesterday—like I was something disgusting stuck to his skate.”

“Oh, honey.” Adele’s tone softened. “That man couldn’t take his eyes off you. Trust me, I was watching.”

“That’s worse.” I swallowed hard, forcing my attention back to the conference room. Millsy caught my eye through the glass and winked, her designer suit a stark contrast to Malone’s LA flash. Old money versus new, playing out in fabric and attitude.

The conference room itself screamed money too—all gleaming wood and leather chairs. One wall opened completely to overlook the ice surface below, while another displayed vintage hockey memorabilia in custom cases. The kind of space designed to impress without trying too hard. Hoss had pulled this place together with every intention of it being a success, and it showed. He already had a good business going. Adding Viggy just cemented a good thing.

On the ice, Jack’s laugh carried faintly through the glass. The sound hit me like a body check, memories ambushing me before I could brace against them. That same laugh rumbling against my neck in my tiny Austin kitchen. His hands sliding around my waist as I burned another grilled cheese...

“Earth to Lily!” Adele’s elbow connected with my ribs. “Now who’s staring?”

Heat crawled up my neck. “I wasn’t—”

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