Page 133 of Slap Shot Scandal
Ashamed, embarrassed.
Deeply mortified to be part of the very thing I was hired to avoid.
#SteeleScandalis trending, hitting over 100,000 views in less than twenty-four hours. I can’t stop scrolling with trembling hands, reading the vicious comments:
Nepotism at its finest.
This gives *taking one for the team* a whole new meaning.
Hayes always was good at scoring. Guess it runs in the family
And my personal favorite—#PuckSlut.
Hopefully, my father, the great Coach Hayes, doesn’t see that one. Not that it matters—I already know I’m never living this down. At this point, he’s probably disowning me. And why should I care? He’s not there for me anyway, not really.
Not when it counts.
I declined his calls all morning,then threw my phone on Silent and shoved the stupid thing into my desk drawer after his barrage of nasty texts.
Dad: Are you kidding me, Harbor?
Dad: You’re SLEEPING with the team captain?
Dad: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MIND?!?!
Dad: I raised you better than this
I’ve had more than enough of his bullshit. Lived my entire life trying to please him, measure up to his impossible standards.
But I’ll never be enough for him, no matter what I do.
I get it. I let everyone down—Prince, the team, my father.
Weston.
Myself.
I’m ruined.
Toast.
Damaged goods.
I doubt Prince will give me a glowing recommendation, and even if he does, it’s not like his words will hold much weight. My next employer would have to be clueless and desperate to hire me.
All of that’s bad, sure. But the thing that scares me—really shakes me to the core—is I don’t care.
None of this matters.
I’m losing Weston.
The man I’m wildly in love with.
And I never even told him. What’s the point now? It’s too late.
My chest constricts at the futility of our situation.
I’ve been in this business a long time, covered more than my fair share of shitstorms. I can spin worst case scenarios into bright spots in my freaking sleep.
