Page 28 of Shootout Daddies
Allyson Chen meets me at the receptionist’s desk with a clipboard in one hand and a phone in the other. She doesn’t smile, which I weirdly appreciate.
“Shaw,” she says, gesturing for me to follow her. “We’re late.”
“For what?”
“The first of many fires.”
We walk quickly, her heels clicking a sharp rhythm on the polished floor. She’s in slim black pants and a tucked blouse, hair twisted into a braid down her back. Every movement is economical. No wasted breath, no time for small talk.
I like her immediately.
Inside the conference room, she drops the clipboard on the table and points to a chair.
“First,” she says, tapping the files, “Jeremy Henry is out.”
I pause mid-sit. “Out as in…”
“Gone. Resigned. Not our problem anymore.”
“He was lead counsel for the Icemen, wasn’t he?”
“Yep. Now you’re taking the lead until they find a permanent replacement for him. Congratulations.”
“Any reason he left?”
Allyson shrugs. “Rumors. Burnout. Conflict with team leadership. Could be anything. What matters is that you’re in.”
I glance down at the folder. “I hope this includes a crash course in professional hockey, because I’m not very conversant with the sport.”
“Don’t worry. The players don’t care what icing means either. And besides, you’ll only be here for the pre -season. I can pick back up once the season starts.”
I like the sound of that. “What’s the damage report?”
Allyson lifts a brow. “How much time do you have?”
She slides a sheet toward me. It’s a timeline—names, dates, attached articles. Turns out the team’s been… busy.
“There was an incident two seasons ago involving three players and a tequila-fueled house party that made Page Six,” she says briskly. “That blew over thanks to a PR spin and the fact that one of them got married to the woman in question.”
I blink. “Married?”
“Mmhmm. Another player had a—let’s call it an entanglement—with a journalist embedded with the team. That got messy. There were NDAs involved. We handled it.”
“Damn.”
She’s still flipping pages. “Last season’s head coach, Ace Carter, retired after winning the cup… but not before building a reputation for running the team like a frat house. Allegedly slept with someone the team hired to make a video game based on the team. Him and the team analyst and one of the players. You will soon learn that this team has some kind of reputation.”
“Meaning?”
“Let’s just say that in the last three years, there has been a grand total of three harems that we know of. And the media has been eating up all the drama. We’ve had to file a couple of cease and desists. This season, we are determined to only focus on the game and the sponsors. Nothing off-ice for any of the players.”
My jaw tightens. “Are any of these lawsuits still active?”
“No. But their potential is always simmering. That’s where you come in.”
“Good to know,” I murmur.
She hands me another sheet. “On the upside, the team’s brand is exploding. They’ve got three top-tier sponsorships circling—Rolex, Under Armour, and a new partnership with a woman-led gaming company called GameHatch. Plus a joint campaign with the NHL and Visit Florida. Big money. Big exposure. Big paperwork.”
