Page 140 of The Romance Line

There. That’s better. I can do this and move forward.

I walk inside, picturing the ice rink that sits below this level, where the team fights to win every goddamn game.

Fight.

That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to fight for my job, sooner than I’d planned. I won’t let Elias scare me because I’m good at what I do. That means I have to take a meeting right now because that’s part of the job.

I pass Jenna’s cubicle on the way to my office, and she gives me a cheery wave. “Everly, I have the research you asked for before the interview Max has with Erin later today.”

She’s here early too? She’s not usually here before nine. Did she see me outside as well? But then I talk back to my worries—You know who to trust. You can trust her. You can’t trust Elias. You’ve never been able to.“Thanks, Jenna. I appreciate all you do,” I say.

I head into my office, close the door, and log into the call. I shut off everything else as I focus on the Zoom with the team in Boston about some joint press coverage for the upcoming game.

When that’s done, I grab my phone, leave my office, and walk down the hall. The corridor is concrete. The walls are covered with framed photos of the Sea Dogs. At the end of the hall is my boss’s office.

I catalog one more thing—my pulse.

It’s calmer because I’m not waiting any longer. I won’thave the weekend to rehearse. I can’t practice with my friends. Sometimes, you just have to jump into the fray.

Without a plan, without a strategy, without anything but guts, I walk into my boss’s suite.

Her assistant flashes me a bright smile from his desk outside the door. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Trevor. I need to see Zaire today,” I say, then add a smile. “Could I please get on her schedule as soon as she’s free?”

“She’s out of the office this morning at an appointment,” he says, and I have no idea what that means—if it’s personal, if it’s business, or if it’s something else entirely. But it’s not for me to know. I simply tell him I’ll take the next free slot on her schedule.

“That’ll be three-thirty,” he says. That’s a lifetime from now, but I take it. At least it’s before Elias has said he’ll drop his picture online.

I return to my office and text Max about what happened, telling him I’ll share the rest when he’s done with morning skate and we head to the interview.

I feel calmer—maybe because I’m not in this alone. Then, I flip open my laptop and get to work on a plan for that meeting.

53

THE REAL MAX LAMBERT

Max

The thing about hockey players is we’re known for fast reflexes on the ice.

But sometimes people underestimate us when it comes to how we react out of the rink. Reflexes matter, too, even if you’re not wearing a mask or holding a stick. The second Everly tells me what went down this morning, I think fast. My brain whirls with ideas as I drive us over to The Sports Network.

Along the way, she’s telling me her plans for her meeting with her boss this afternoon. And damn, they’re so brilliant, they’re beyond brilliant. They’re scorching hot.

But I can’t let her do all the work. We’re a team of two right now, and I know how to help a teammate out. Sometimes you need to block, sometimes you need to shoot, and sometimes you deflect. But a good hockey player also knows how to do something else—how to set up a shot.

When we reach The Sports Network offices in downtown San Francisco, Everly shifts into work mode. I get that. She doesn’t want to miss a step when it comes to her job. Erin is interviewing me for a piece in the pre-game show, so Everly’s reminding me of my talking points as we walk down the hallway to the studio.

“And now that your episode onThe Ice Menhas been given the go-ahead, Erin will ask about that. I told her this morning about it, so she’ll include a mention in her segment. What I want is for you to say something like—this documentary is a great chance to show the daily routines of a goalie, what it takes to get into the mindset to defend the net every game. All of those things are exactly whatThe Ice Menwill want you to say.”

“Got it,” I say, and fact is—Everly’s right. Those are great points.

I’m not going to say any of those things though.

When we reach the greenroom for the studio, she looks me up and down, and with a smile, she says, “By the way you clean up nice.”

“A shower and fresh clothes help,” I say, glancing down at my slacks and royal blue dress shirt.