Chapter One
Eavie
The blazing sun reflected off the rippling waters of the lake, almost blindingly, as Eavie stared out the row of windows distractedly.Her eyes had tracked more than a dozen planes taking off and landing at the island airport.Usually, the beautiful vista of the lake and Toronto Island was a serene escape from the harsh blue light of the computer screens she gazed at all day.Today, though, it did nothing to temper the gnawing anxiety that had made a home in her stomach.
Ordinarily, within twenty minutes, she would have finished reviewing the social media schedule for the Toronto Heirs, the city’s minor professional hockey team.Still, ever since she woke up this morning, she hadn’t been able to focus for more than five minutes before her attention went out the window—literally and figuratively.
The waiting was killing her.It had been two weeks since the interview, and she had been warned the process would be long, but they were clear all candidates would hear today by 4:00 PM.
She wanted this position more than anything, determination stoking her drive from the moment the company-wide email landed in her inbox.The contract opportunity to be the executive assistant to the general manager of the Toronto Royals, the Heir’s professional hockey affiliate, had been announced exactly forty-three days and six hours ago.Since that moment, she had been dead set on achieving it—could practically taste it.Nothing could dampen her tenacity to get this promotion, not even when the application number hit two hundred.
That unwillingness to accept the possibility she wouldn’t get it, had kept her pushing through the last few weeks.Now, as the time crept closer and closer to the deadline, the simmering doubt crept in.
Pulling her gaze back to her computer, she noted the time—3:37 PM.It seemed to go by agonizingly slowly today, yet swiftly, too.The minutes ticked by one by one as she willed her phone to ring.No call meant she would get the templated email informing her and the other one hundred and ninety-nine candidates that they didn’t get it.
Sighing, she swallowed down the encroaching pessimistic thoughts.Shaking out her hands, she forced herself to finish her final comments on the social calendar for the month.Thankfully, it was pretty standard for the start of the season, requiring minimal commentary on her part.Lots of promo and charity work for the players.Behind the scenes at practice, walking interviews with management, reels of the guys working out in preparation.As she went through each post, she added reminders and appointments to her boss’s calendar for when the social team would need him.
Hitting send on her email to Imani from the engagement team, her gaze dropped once again to the clock at the bottom of her screen.
3:50 PM.
She clasped her hands together tightly.Resting her elbows on her desk, she brought them to her mouth.
Fuck.
She pulled in a full breath through her nose.The reality that she wasn’t selected clawed at the back of her mind.She had wanted this so badly—wanted to achieve this culminating step in her career.
Blowing the breath back out, she told herself that it wasn’t a big deal.She loved her current job, too, and knew other opportunities would come up.
“Eavie,” her boss, David, called from his office across from her cubicle, startling her out of her revive.“Could you come here?”
Rolling her shoulders back, she shoved her disappointment down.Now was not the time to dwell.She could let her disappointment cycle through her when she got home.
Standing, she smoothed down her pencil skirt before crossing the aisle to David’s door, the sound of her heels softly muffled by the carpet.Stepping through, she forced herself to give him her usual smile.
“Yes,” she answered, stopping just inside.
He waved her forward.“Come on in.Close the door behind you.”
Her nerves jumped into her throat.With shaking hands, she shut the solid wood door, enclosing her in the room.He rarely asked her to close the door when he called her in.
Sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk, she kept her back straight, tucking her hands into her lap so he wouldn’t see them shake.She scanned him, looking for any sign something was wrong.She had worked for him for three years and had learned to read him well.
He sat back in his chair as she settled herself.His curly black hair stuck out at odd angles, as it always did, contrary to the perfectly trimmed beard gracing his wide jaw.Underneath, he looked relaxed—nothing to indicate what this was about.His casual manner and open expression should have put her at ease, but the combination of waiting all day to hear about the promotion, mixed with him calling her into his office, had all her nerves on edge.
Silence stretched between them as she counted her heartbeats, pulsing heavy in her throat.Finally, after what felt like forever, he smiled at her.
“Eavie, how long have you been working with us now?”he asked, tilting his head contemplatively.
She blinked.“Um, about three years,” she answered.
He nodded.“It’s unfortunate,” he commented, looking down at his desk.Her heart ceased to work altogether.“We are going to miss you around here.”
Her entire body froze at his words as he looked back up at her.Was she being fired?Why?Yes, she wanted the opening with the Royals, but not because she was unhappy with her job.She just wanted to take the next step—challenge herself.She had worked so hard over the last few years to prove herself capable.
All at once, her heart began racing, blood pounding in her ears.Calm down, she willed herself.He wouldn’t have said they were going to miss you if they were firing you.
Forcing herself to be logical, she cleared her throat.“I don’t understand,” she said, careful to keep her voice even.She counted her heartbeats as she waited for him to explain.