Page 14 of Slap Shot Scandal
“You’re opposed to charity events?”
“No. But I am if they’re fake.”
“Who says they’ll be fake? All I’m asking is for everyone to make an effort, be a good citizen. Not a huge lift.”
“Hmph,” he grunts, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. I don’t think the people of Driftwood Cove will like it. They’re not dumb—they’ll see right through that plan.”
“You have any better ideas, Mr. Smart Guy?” I fire back, folding my arms across my chest now and matching his defensive posture.
“No. But it’s not my job to have the ideas. It’s yours.” He points at me and now I’m good and pissed.
“My point exactly, Mr. Steele. Let me do my job and you do yours. As team captain, you’re expected to help sell the plan to your teammates.”
“But I don’t like the plan.”
“Do you like every play the coach calls?” I fire back.
He stiffens, jaw ticking. “No, I don’t. But that’s different.”
I jut out my chin. “It’s actually not. Consider me the PR coach. This ismyfield of expertise. And I know what I’m doing. I bailed a professional tennis player out of a total crisis last year during the biggest tournament of her career. Also managed to keep a basketball star out of jail, then polished up his image after the skirmish with law enforcement.”
Championship-level crisis management. The kind of work that separates the pros from the amateurs. Dad taught me that champions perform under pressure—and that’s exactly what I do.
“Trust me—I know what I’m doing.”
“Great, good for you. But those are two individuals, not a whole damn team.”
I grit my teeth, acting way calmer than I feel. “I’ve worked with teams before too. Besides, the same principles apply.”
Weston drums his fingers on the table and I relax a bit.Maybe I made my point and he’s going to go along with the plan. That would be a huge load off my extremely tense shoulders.
“I don’t understand why we can’t hire a new coach and stay in the city.”
Dammit.
No such luck.
I heave out an exasperated sigh and glance up at the ceiling, debating how much to divulge. I figure Mr. Prince will tell him all the details anyway, since he wants him at the press conference. It wouldn’t do for Weston to be caught off guard.
“The team needs to make a move. For self-preservation. If we stay here, we’ll be ripped to shreds by the press. Your coach is under investigation. That’s a huge deal and sponsors are freaking out about losing their investments. Add the sex scandal in there, and it’s going to be a bloodbath. The media is already having a field day with this, and the details haven’t leaked yet. Only vague rumors about a possible team shake-up and the news that Coach Evans is gone.”
My cell buzzes on the table, the loud vibration echoing off the walls. I snatch it up, glancing at the screen.
“And so it begins…” I hold the phone out so Weston can read the blaring headline.
Coach Evans scores with team owner Prince’s wife
“Shit.” He scrubs a large hand over his jaw, eyes darkening. “I can’t believe he’d really do that to us.” His voice so low the words are barely audible, and for a moment there’s a crack in his composure. For the first time since we met, he’s not full of confident swagger. His shoulders slump slightly and I feel badly for him, for the team. CoachEvans betrayed all of them and the sting’s etched on Weston’s face.
“I’m sorry, I know this sucks for you too.” My hand trembles and I almost reach out to him, but he recovers quickly, defenses snapping back into place.
“How’d they get that photo?” He snarls at the full-color photo of Coach Evans and Mandi Prince kissing outside the arena. “Aren’t you supposed to kill things like that?”
“They already had the photos, before I was hired. Coach Evans and Mrs. Prince got sloppy. But that’s all history now. My job is immediate damage control, followed by a rebuild and growth plan. I’ve got this. You just have to trust me.”
Nostrils flaring, he levels stormy blue eyes on mine. My breath hitches and my belly rolls as we stare across the table at one another.
“You’re going to have to earn that trust, Ms. Hayes. That’s not a party favor I hand out.”
