Page 3 of Slap Shot Scandal
“No idea. You see Bennett out there?”
I shake my head. “No. He’ll be late. Always is.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I lean back and wait along with everyone else. Chatter in the room amplifies as the seconds tick by, my nerves thrumming. Callum’s quiet—per the usual—and I don’t mind a bit.
Bennett strolls in at 7:59, acting like he’s out for a Sunday freaking stroll. He shoots us a wave as he strides in our direction, joining us in the corner.
“Hey, boys. Any word on why we’re here?” Bennett leans back, propping his foot on the wall.
“No. Was the media still swarming?” I fiddle with my fitness tracker ring and stare at the door, anxiety thrumming through my veins.
“Oh yeah. Every major news station’s out there.”
“Even Meg the hottie from Channel 9?” Callum elbows Bennett and he jabs him right back, grinning.
“Yeah. Even her.”
“Was that awkward? Since you’re a one-and-done kinda guy?” Callum teases and Bennett shoots him the bird.
“No. Because I shaded my face with my hands and sprinted past her shouting ‘No comment.’”
“Of course you did.” Callum and I laugh. Of all theguys on the team, Bennett’s got the worst reputation when it comes to dating.
Suddenly, the room falls silent and I jerk my head up. The team owner, Max Prince, strides in wearing his typical dark suit, even at this early hour. He’s flanked by his assistant, Naomi, and the sexy blonde I just collided with in the hallway.
Bennett leans over and whispers, “Who’s Malibu Barbie?”
Callum snickers and I shrug, every inch of my body tense.
The sea of people parts as Max enters, and he takes his spot at the head of the conference table. He doesn’t sit, though.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Max’s eyes dart around the room, making eye contact with a chosen few, including me. “I apologize for the early morning, but I wanted you to hear the news directly from me. Coach Evans is gone. Terminated as of last night.”
A collective gasp rises from the room, side conversations breaking out.
What the hell? Coach was fired?
Max holds up a palm. “Before everyone begins asking the inevitable questions—Coach Evans acted inappropriately, in a manner not befitting a coach of this team. Therefore, I was forced to take action. A new coach will be appointed shortly. And we’re mixing things up a bit next season.”
What the fuck does that mean?
Bennett raises his hand. Of course he fucking does.
“Yes, Bennett?” Max points a finger at him.
“What do you mean, ‘mixing things up?’” He air quotes Max’s phrase.
Max presses his lips together, his gaze shifting toward the blonde. “Harbor, care to chime in here?”
The mystery blonde gives a shy wave and steps forward. “Hi, everyone. I’m Harbor Hayes, the team’s PR consultant.”
PR consultant? What’s going on here?
The back of my neck prickles, senses on high alert. We’ve never interacted directly with a PR consultant before.
“I’m super enthused to be meeting with you all this morning. As Mr. Prince said, big changes are in the works. I’m here to help you make the most of these changes and polish your image.”
Polish our image? What the hell?
