Page 17 of Not the Puck Bunny

“Because of the job, or because of the hot hockey players?” he asked.

“Both,” I said. “Some of them…don't seem to want me here.”

One particular name sprang to mind. Cam North would probably be ecstatic if I found a replacement, packed up and left.

Too bad for him. Even if I had nothing to prove to my father, Cam wanting me out was a fantastic reason to stay. I'd dealt with enough men like that in the past that I wasn't intimidated by him now.

Memories of his body so close to mine in Shells, then the expression on his face when he saw me step into that meeting, were both seared into my brain, for different reasons. I reminded myself I couldn't let him get under my skin. He was a grumpy, professional hockey player who worked for me. That was all.

“I'm going to drop that straight in the 'too fucking bad' bucket,” Rafe said, flicking back dark hair that fell over his eye. “Our girl is here now, in charge of this whole shebang.” He spread his hands to gesture around the office. “And we both know you're going to kill it. I know you, it won't take long for you to convince them of that. And if they don't like it, I'm sure you could organize a transfer to somewhere that will welcome their asses. Toronto is nice and coldthis time of year.” He punctuated his words with a wicked smile.

“I don't think disliking the team owner is grounds for transferring a player,” I said. “I have a funny feeling that would create more problems than it would solve. Anyway,” I shook my head. “I don't care if they like me or not, as long as they're loyal to their team and teammates.”

Rafe snorted as loud as one of the geese that ran wild in Highball Creek. “You can say you don't care as much as you want, but I know you better than that. You like to be liked. Or at least, you don't like to bedisliked.” He frowned at his own words, as if unsure if he had them straight. Finally, he decided he had and nodded once.

“No one likes to be disliked,” I said. “For the record, I don't need to be liked, but I do like to be respected.” Whether it was working directly for my father, or doing this, I put everything into it, so I could earn people's respect. Even if I sacrificed relationships, like the one with Xander.

Were my priorities mixed up? I liked to think they weren't. Respect was important. Difficult to gain and ridiculously easy to lose.

“I respect you,” Rafe said. “Why a hockey team? A football team would have been just as much fun. Ilove the Humpbacks! Or you know what would have been great?” He was all but bouncing up and down in his seat. “Pickleball. I can see it now.” He raised a hand in front of him to sketch the image in the air. “The Lowball Bay Nudibranch Pickleball Team.”

I laughed. “Nudibranch?”

“Yep. They're a kind of sea slug, but with a much better name. As an added bonus, it goes with the Sea Dragons, Starfish, Humpbacks and the Sea Cucumbers. All of the male professional athletes in the Bay are basically seamen.” His expression was deadpan.

I laughed again. “Next thing you'll suggest is changing the name of the city to Seamen Bay.”

“Now that would just be silly,” Rafe sniffed, but his eyes shone with humor. “It would have to be Seamenball Bay.”

I snorted a little too loudly. “I stand corrected. Whatever was I thinking?”

He grinned. “I was wondering that myself. Hey, imagine the pickleball team mascot. It could look like a sea bunny. Although, that might be more appropriate for a hockey team.”

I appreciated the irony in that suggestion. “I'll bear that in mind if there's ever a professional pickleball team in Lowball Bay,” I assured him. “It's not really a team sport though. In the meantime,what we have is an ice hockey team that's performing well, but on paper should be doing a lot better.”

“According to whom?” Rafe asked.

“This.” I tapped the sheets of paper against my knee. “And according to Coach Lambton. He actually offered me his resignation while he was showing me around the building. Which I declined, because I saw the way the team respected him at the meeting. If they didn't think he could take them to the next level, they wouldn't have been so relaxed and respectful.”

“Not to mention if the head coach leaves right after you start here, people are going to suggest you fired his ass,” Rafe said. “And that would be a great way to create tension and maybe bad blood.”

“Unless they didn't like him,” I said. “In which case, I'd be viewed more favorably. But they do and that's not a wave I'm going to make. According to my research, he's respected throughout the NHL. Several other teams were vying to have him take over as head coach over the last few seasons. He knows what he's doing.”

I brushed a handful of curls off the side of my face and pressed my hand to my head to keep them back out of the way.

“But you wish you knew more about hockey,” Rafe stated.

“Exactly,” I agreed. “I'm trusting that people know how to do their jobs, but what if they don't? Did you ever have that teacher at school all the kids loved because they didn't make them work? I worry he's like that.”

“First of all, I don't think I ever had a teacher like that,” Rafe said slowly. “And second, you don't think that about him, do you? You're a better judge of character than that. After all, you hired me out of all those applicants.” He shifted from side to side as though he was somehow bashful.

“I can't decide if you're making your point or not,” I teased. When he playfully pouted, I smiled. “I'm glad I hired you. I was getting tired of the people who agreed with me no matter what. What's the point of surrounding yourself with people like that?”

“Only you would ask that question,” Rafe said. “Some people like people like that. People who won't argue with them or tell them they're wrong. Then they get to feel right all the time.”

I grimaced. “That's so wrong. Not to mention unhealthy. And unproductive too. If I had people like that around me, I'd spend half my time fixing up mistakes I didn't realizeI was making.”

“Yes, you would,” he said. “Youshouldblame them and make them clean them up.” He didn't add, ‘like your father would.’ The words hung between us.

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