Page 77 of Bar Down

The moment she stepped inside, Stephanie felt it—like a shift in air pressure. Her boots clicked once on the floor before she saw him.

Reed.

He was sitting in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, hands steepled like a cartoon villain who thought charm could substitute for legitimacy.

“I was wondering when you’d show,” he said without looking up. “Busy day, I assume.”

Stephanie didn’t answer. She kept her bag on her shoulder and her hand in her coat pocket, thumb hovering over the voice memo button on her phone.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” she said, voice flat.

He finally looked up. Smiling. Always smiling.

“You really think this ends with you coming out on top?”

“If that’s a threat, you can walk it right out the door.”

He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“It’s a reality check. You overplayed your hand, sweetheart. You went snooping where you shouldn’t have. You thought you could control me.”

“You blackmailed me and Marcus using stolen data that you hacked from the Chill,” she said. “You’re lucky I haven’t reported you to Darby and Darby....”

He laughed. Actually laughed. “Please. You think anyone’s going to believe you? You haven’t any proof and you’ve got a reputation for... let’s call itinfluencing narratives.Who’s been sleeping with the defenseman at the center of the drama? You’re tainted goods, Stephanie. Damaged from Boston. And like Boston, I’ll see you gone.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“You should be scared.”

He stood. Too fast. He moved to block her exit.

She stepped back.

His voice dropped, lower now. “You know what happens when women like you make trouble? You don’t get promoted. You don’t get quiet jobs somewhere else. You disappear.”

Stephanie didn’t blink. “You done?”

Reed stepped closer. One hand raised—not to hit her, but to make her flinch.

She didn’t.

Because she wasn’t looking at him anymore.

She was looking behind him at the figure in the doorway.

Coach Vicky.

“Get your ass out of here, Reed,” Vicky said, contempt dripping off each word.

Reed froze. “This doesn’t concern you, Coach.”

“You just threatened my PR director. In her office. While standing between her and the door.” Vicky stepped inside and closed the distance in three strides. “That concerns me.”

Reed sneered. “You’re really going to get physical? Cute.”

“I was an enforcer on the Olympic team. You want to find out what cute gets you?”

“The woman’s team,” he snorted. He moved. Not much—just a step toward Stephanie again, hand still raised.

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