Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Say something, he thinks. But it takes another long beat before his brain comes back online. “I was wrong.”
“What?” she breathes.
“You do know how to have a good time.”
She blushes deeply, seeming even less capable of speech than he is.
Another breath of oxygen helps put the shattered pieces of himself back together. He gives her a playful pinch on the ass. “Up now, and take me to the caf. I need calories. And you can help me figure out which food to steal for later. On the roof. We have to discuss our performance.”
With a huge dazed smile, she scrambles off his lap and to her feet.
And when they walk off together, they match their strides without even noticing.
Chapter 15
Present Day
You know what it means if you start losing sponsors, right?
These terrible words have me frozen in the doorway to the conference room. I don’t move until the publicist arrives behind me, yapping into his phone. And Eric Tremaine is right behind him. I step aside to let them both pass by, but Chase’s agent spots me in the doorway and beckons to me.
Then she smiles. Which I’m not expecting.
Gingerly, I enter the room. Chase spots me and promptly looks agitated.
It’s hard to blame him.
Eric Tremaine, ever the gentleman, does the introductions. “Zoe, meet Bess Beringer, agent to the stars. Bess, this is Zoe Carson, the newest member of the coaching staff.”
“I know!” The woman beams at me. “I read about your hire. It’s about time, too. The Legends have been dicking around with hiring a full-time skating coach. That’s why the last guy moved to Sweden. Are they finally making this official? Are they bringing you on full-time next year?”
“We’ll see,” I say, resisting the urge to glance at Chase. He’ll hate that idea. “I hope to stay, but it’s possible the GM has other candidates in mind.” Because he told me to my face.
“My fingers are crossed.” She pops out of her chair and leans over to offer a handshake. “It’s great to meet you in any case. And I think you’re fantastic for this role. Women in sports have always been underestimated, so I can’t wait to see what you do here.”
“Thank you,” I say, my face heating. Her enthusiasm confuses me, though. If Chase is going to scapegoat me for last night’s incident, he must not have told her yet.
“Hey—I met your husband once at a conference,” Bess says, taking her seat again. “He’s a character.”
“That’s, um…” Yikes. “That’s one way to put it. He’s my ex-husband now. I received my divorce decree a couple weeks ago.”
Chase’s gaze flickers to mine. But then he glances away so fast that I might have imagined it.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bess says kindly. “Unless he was a rascal, and then I’m not sorry at all.”
“Uh, don’t be, then,” I say, clearing my throat and wondering how to change the topic.
“Chase.” Bess swats him on the arm. “Be a gentleman and say hello.”
His blue eyes flip up to pin me in my chair. “Good morning, Coach Carson,” he says coolly.
“Is it, though?” I reply, and everyone laughs except Chase.
The PR guy ends his call and pockets his phone. “Hey, Zoe,” he says. “I meant to tell you in happier times—like yesterday—that we got a big PR bounce off our press release about you.”
“Oh,” I say numbly, because it’s the very last thing on my mind. Then again, the PR bump won’t be very valuable if they fire me, will it?
“Yeah, people love the idea of the figure skating queen telling a bunch of hockey players what to do.”
I chuckle uncomfortably. “Steve, I don’t care how good the press is, I’m not wearing a tiara to work.”
“Hey,” Bess says, pointing at me. “I like this one. You’d better keep her.”
Preach, sister.
Suddenly Nolan Sharp strides into the room. Even his walk is angry. “All right, let’s get this bullshit handled. Can’t believe we’re dealing with another bout of unacceptable behavior from you,” he says to Chase.
“Pardon me,” Bess jumps in. “Another sounds like we’re in here every week. And Chase didn’t slam that fan, no matter how the video is captioned.”
The manager yanks a chair out for himself. “Do the semantics matter? A hundred thousand people watched him shove a fan to the floor of a bar. We’re lucky there was no arrest.”
“There was no arrest for a reason,” I hear myself argue.
Everyone turns to stare at me, and there’s a silence that seems to last a year but is probably only a few seconds long.
“Let’s dig into that a little bit,” Sailor says. “Why don’t you tell us what happened last night, in your own words.”
I take a deep breath. Then I turn to Chase. “First, I want to apologize if I complicated your life last night. I’m so sorry.”
His response is to lean back in his chair and study me again. Then he gives me a slow nod.