Page 12 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance
“But you’re more familiar with Sarabella than I am. You’d be doing me a huge favor, showing me around the area.”
A smile plays at her lips. “All right. How about this weekend?”
“Great. Looking forward to it.”
Something in her expression warms. “Me, too.”
I tear myself away from her to grab my coat from thecouch. “If you’d like, I can pick Gabe and his wife up from the airport.”
“I’d prefer to do that myself, but thanks.” She returns to her desk, sits down, and then opens her laptop.
She looks good, sitting there in charge and running things. I always knew Rebecca had the brains and strength needed to make a place for herself in the sports world, although I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for her. Maybe that’s part of the reason I did what Sam asked and walked away. If she had tied her sail to me, I would have held her back. She would have been viewed more in light of my rising star than her own.
I shrug my coat on, stopping in front of her desk, waiting for her to look up at me as I search for the right words. “You’re exactly what this team needs, Rebecca. I’m just sorry your father isn’t here to see it.”
Her eyes turn glassy as she blinks. She looks down as if to hide what she’s feeling. “Thank you, Zach.”
When she meets my gaze again, I simply nod my appreciation and leave.
I meant what I said to her. And though Rebecca may not want to give me a second chance, I’m determined to do whatever I can to help her shine brighter than ever.
CHAPTER 7
Rebecca
“He’s way more qualified.” Jack taps his finger next to the top name on the list of candidates for the coaching position. He stares down at me from the other side of my desk—more like looming over me. I recognize the stance for what it is—mouth set in a frown, eyes narrowed, looming over me to invade my space.
Every instinct screams at me to retreat, but the hardheadedness I got from my father digs in its heels. I stand and brace my hands on the desk, refusing to yield until he backs off.
“Perhaps more qualified, but I don’t think he’s right for this team.” Why would I put one of the former coach’s cronies in charge of my players? Makes me wonder if Jack truly has their best interests in mind or his own personal agenda. From what I understand, he and the previous coach were tight. Nothing implicated him in the scandal, but that doesn’t mean he was blind to what was going on right under his nose.
He waves me off as he turns and heads toward the door. “Markelson doesn’t have the experience we need.”
His brusque tone sounds dismissive as if he has the final say. But this is my team, and I know what I’m doing.
“I understand your concerns, but I think you’ll agree once you meet him.”
He spins around. “You already offered him a contract?”
“No, of course not. More like an interview. As much for him as for us.”
He shakes his head. “How did you even find out about this guy?”
“Zach Keller suggested him and made the introduction.”
“I’m your general manager. You’re supposed to leave these things to me.” He turns to leave again.
“Jack.”
He pauses in the doorway, then turns, his face shuttered. The man might as well have cotton in his ears at this point. Maybe he’ll hear what I have to say, maybe he won’t, but I refuse to back down. Jack wants to keep the status quo, which means certain death for this team, but he’s too narrow-minded to see that—to understand we need fresh blood, a new approach.
“I told you the day I first walked in here that I’d be hands-on with running things. You said you didn’t have a problem with that because we’re a team—all of us. We work together and find solutions. I simply got the ball rolling. And tomorrow, when Gabe gets here, all of us—even the team—will meet and interview him.”
He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
“They’re hockey players. Their job is to play hockey, win games, and do what they’re told.”
