Page 25 of Just One Season
Paul keeps talking about focus, but my mind wanders. Of course we’re all working our hardest. We need to earn our salaries and keep working, improving, winning.
“Second, we need to keep the reputation of this team top notch. Our PR team is working on that, so make sure you make cooperation with them a priority.”
Cooperate with Lucy Knox? She’s already emailed me asking if I want to set up media training. I haven’t responded yet, because while I’d like to spend time with her, I’ve been to endless media training sessions, and I can do it all over email.
I’m staring at the mat with my hands clasped between my knees when the room quiets, and I feel eyes on me. I look up, and Paul’s staring directly at me.
“Are we clear?”
There are murmurs of agreement from around the room and I nod my head.
“Mr. Bassey? Will you step outside with me for a moment?”
My muscles tense, and I go into fighting mode. All eyes are on us as I stand and follow Paul as he strides out of the locker room, through the doors and into the hallway.
He stops and spins toward me.
“Will you be cooperative with the PR team?” Paul says it like an accusation. One I don’t deserve.
“Of course.” My chest tightens. I don’t need any added attention from Paul Harrison. But that’s exactly what I’m getting. There’s no reason for him to target me on this topic. I’ve been nothing but cooperative with PR.
This is only because of that photo with his wife.
Paul’s hard eyes drill into me.
“Cooperate with PR. Have the best season of your life. And no bad press. Or any press, preferably, unless it’s about the record number of goals you’ve scored.” He spits the words out.
I breathe in deeply. I want to punch this guy. Shove him into the wall and see him bounce off it and onto the floor like what happens on the ice.
“Because your job depends on it.”
I clench my fists at my sides and swallow. Paul’s words sink into every cell of my body.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Harrison.”
He stares at me for another moment. Maybe we should just talk about this directly. I could explain to him that there is nothing between me and Savannah. That she was just talking about her career plans. How she wishes he was more supportive?—
I hear the conversation in my head. Yeah. It wouldn’t go over well.
“Good. Then get back to it.” Paul walks down the hall toward the executive hallway, and I’ve lost my chance.
Shit.
I honestly wondered if maybe I was imagining him hating me. At least hating me more than the others. For a NHL team owner, he doesn’t seem to enjoy hockey or hockey players or anything about the process. It’s all business for him. Which, I suppose, isn’t that rare. But I’ve known more casual, friendly, collaborative owners, and it’s a much better environment.
But after that interaction, I know it’s not all in my head.
I avoid the questioning looks from my teammates and finish my work out before heading to the showers.
How can I convince Paul to back off? How can I show him I have no interest in his wife? I strip down and step into one of the stalls. The hot water washes over me, and I let it burn my skin, just a little.
I only want to have a great hockey season and hang out with my kid, my family, and my friends. At least Paul and I are on the same page on the topic of having the best season of my life. Back at the lockers, I pull my arms into a long-sleeved raglan t-shirt and sink onto the bench as my mind conjures a picture of Lucy’s red curls and the smooth line of her neck. There are worse people to spend time with.
“Kellie, what are you thinking about?” Lachlan says from his seat on the bench, yanking me out of my daydream. Harley is standing in front of his cubby watching me as well.
“Just how much Paul hates me.” I toss my wet towel into the laundry bin for the equipment manager, who is wandering around picking up anything from the floor that didn’t make it to the right bin.
“He sure does.” Atticus looks around. “And he’s watching Lucy for our asshole father. Keeping an eye on her. Paul told us that directly when we ran into him at Deep Roots Cafe the other day.Richard told me to watch out for you.” Atticus uses a sing-song voice to mimic Paul.
