Page 22 of Slap Shot Scandal
“Same.” I nod curtly, and she hurries away to get the drinks.
“Serious question…” Weston narrows his eyes, peering over at me. “Is this relocation thing temporary? Or is the team moving to Florida forever?”
His question’s a sucker punch straight to the gut, circling us right back to the very issue dividing us. I swipe my hands down the soft linen of my skirt, mouth dry.
“Uh…tough to say.”
His full lips press into a thin line. “Not a great response, Hurricane. As someone who does press interviews for a living, I thought you’d come up with something better than that.”
I bite at the inside of my cheek, wishing I had a more concrete answer.
“I know. Sorry. It kind of depends on how the season goes, I guess. Ultimately, the final decision’s not up to me.”
He swivels in his seat, facing me. “We’re kind of damned if we do, damned if we don’t then, am I right? Play great, town loves us—we stay in Florida forever. Or get down there and suck, the community angle doesn’t hit, and we’re back at square one. Players lose their positions, more people from the franchise get fired…”
And I’m out on my ass. Proving my father right.
You’re not championship material, Harbor.
My dad’s words burn in my chest. If this rebrand fails, if I don’t build something lasting here, he’ll have his proof I was never worthy of the Hayes name.
“Water.” The flight attendant shoves a bottle in my direction, handing the other to Weston, her fingers lingering on the plastic for a beat too long.
“Thanks.” Weston unscrews the lid and takes a long swig. She hovers for a few more seconds, then darts away when the GM calls her over.
I shift in my seat, take a quick sip of water to quell my scratchy throat. I didn’t know I signed up for twenty questions with the grumpy captain this morning.
“That’s not going to happen. We’re going to get toDriftwood Cove and nail this rebrand. At least, I’ll do my part.” I level my gaze with his. “Will you do yours?”
“Are you insinuating I won’t?” His brow furrows, a deep V forming between his eyes.
I shrug. “I don’t know. You haven’t been pleased with the rebrand from the start. How do I know you’re not going to tank the whole thing?”
Weston leans forward, our faces inches apart. “Don’t question my integrity, Ms. Hayes. To be clear, I always do what’s best for the team. No matter what, whether I like it or not. I’m the leader of this team and I don’t take that responsibility lightly.”
There it is again, that edge in his voice that reminds me of my father. Always questioning my decisions.
This time, I’m not backing down. I’ve earned my place at the table.
I swallow hard, sitting up as tall as I can in the buttery leather seat. “Remember how you said I have to earn your trust?”
His jaw ticks, a vein in his neck pulsating. “I do.”
“Well, you have to prove yourself to me.”
His eyes flash and a hot bolt of desire zings straight to my clit.
WTF?
But there’s something about his strong, tense jaw, that spark just below the growly surface.
“Make the team believe in this plan, Weston.”
“I’m a hockey player, not a magician.”
I huff out a sigh. The man’s aggravating as hell.
Suddenly, lights flicker and the plane bounces up and down. Gasping, I grip the armrest, hot panic flooding my chest.
