Page 58 of Bar Down

15 minutes. Don't be late.

She typed back, then tucked her phone away before she could second-guess herself.

Twenty-six hours until potential career destruction, and here she was arranging closet rendezvous with the team's analytical defenseman.

She'd clearly lost her mind.

Stephanie rounded the corner and nearly collided with Coach Vicky.

"Looking for someone?" Vicky asked, arms crossed.

"Just heading to review media protocols," Stephanie replied smoothly. "Game day prep."

Vicky's eyes narrowed. "Something's off with you lately. And with Adeyemi. And now Chenny's acting strange too."

"New ownership tension," Stephanie said. "Everyone's feeling it."

"Uh-huh." Vicky didn't look convinced. "Whatever's going on, fix it before it affects my team's performance."

"There's nothing—"

"Save it for the reporters, Ellis." Vicky cut her off. "Just make sure whatever you're up to doesn't blow back on this team. We've worked too hard to let off-ice drama derail us."

As Vicky walked away, Stephanie checked her watch again. Ten minutes until her meeting with Marcus. Ten minutes to finalize the most dangerous plan she'd ever attempted.

And less than twenty-four hours until Reed either destroyed both their careers or they somehow stopped him.

The odds weren't good. But then again, she'd always been willing to bet against the spread.

***

MARCUS

19 hours remaining

Marcus settled into his defensive stance, eyes tracking the Columbus center as he crossed the blue line. His body operated on trained instinct, muscles firing in sequence as he pivoted to cut off the passing lane. But his mind was elsewhere—specifically, in the executive suite where Stephanie was executing their plan.

Eight minutes into the first period, and all he could think about was that supply closet.

The way she'd gasped when he'd lifted her against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist as if they'd been designed to fit there. The soft curse she'd whispered against his neck when his hands slipped under her blouse. The way she'd insisted they still looked professional when they emerged, though her lipstick was smudged at the corner and his tie would never be the same.

"Heads up, Spreadsheets!" Jax barked, snapping him back to the present as Columbus's second line crashed toward them.

Marcus reset, positioning his stick to disrupt the cross-ice pass he saw developing. Their center tried it anyway—predictable—and Marcus intercepted cleanly, sending the puck up the boards to Kane.

Fifteen minutes until intermission. Fifteen minutes until Stephanie created the distraction that would give Chenny access to Reed's laptop. Twenty-four minutes of pretending his entire career and hers weren't hanging in the balance, all while Dietrich kept targeting their most tech-savvy player.

As if summoned by the thought, Dietrich crushed Chenny into the boards right in front of the Columbus bench. The hit was clean but unnecessarily vicious for this early in the game. Chenny popped up immediately, skating backward with a smirk.

"Getting slow in your old age," Chenny chirped, just loud enough for the officials and nearby players to hear. "Hitting like you've got arthritis."

Dietrich's face darkened, but the whistle blew before he could respond, sending both teams to their respective benches for a TV timeout.

"Don't overdo it," Marcus muttered as they sat down, keeping his voice low.

"I got this." Chenny took a long drink of water.

Marcus reviewed the timeline. Chenny needed to get tossed from the game with ten minutes left in the period. That would give him enough time to get to get his stuff and be at the executive level before intermission so he was there to take the laptop case from Stephanie.

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