Page 88 of Unleashed

“Oh, honey.” Her eyes sparkled with the kind of insider knowledge that set off every warning bell I’d developed since leaving LA. “Everyone in hockey has seen it. Especially after word spread about Jack Vignier joining Hoss’s operation here. You know, you did his tribute show. Viggy has a reputation that puts him in the hockey elite. Hoss is damn lucky to get him. “

My mind glitched, panic skirting the edge of my thoughts. Was this my life now? Hearing Jack’s name in every corner? Dealing with the man himself with one of our most important clients?

But then, I’d chosen to come here. Knowing very well I might not be the only one moving into town.

The bell over the bakery door jingled. Bright meowed a greeting and I turned to catch Adele’s whirlwind entrance, all flying red curls and manic energy, even at the crack of dawn. “Lily! You are not going to believe—oh!” She pulled up short, professional mask sliding into place as she registered Millsy’s presence. “I didn’t mean to interrupt...”

Rae made quick introductions while I mapped exits and angles, survival instincts kicking in. I needed to escape any more talk of Jack.

“Perfect timing actually.” Millsy’s smile carried the practiced warmth I recognized from countless pitch meetings. “Adele Doherty, I take it? The other half of 3CP? I was just about to discuss some interesting developments with Ms. Sutton. Developments that might interest both of you, given your partnership.”

Rae set my drink order on the counter and I grasped it like a life-preserver, wrapping both hands around the warm mug and inhaling the sweet scent of a blonde roasted coffee blended perfectly with a spicy chai. I focused on the minutiae and not the disaster unfolding around me. Disaster because somehow I just knew this was going to involve hockey and Jack and my future and just the idea made me want to run and hide and curl into a ball.

I wanted to be proud of what Adele and I had built with Three Corners Productions—a company focused on lifting people up rather than manufacturing drama. We’d spent months proving we could create compelling content without Malone’s toxic influence.

Because I was proud. Adele and I were building a company that built people up. That didn’t tear them down, and I was proud.

But as devastated as I’d been after the Sydney fiasco, it paled in comparison to the way I felt now. Sadness a constant overlay on my life. Coloring the gorgeousness of my day to day with a haze I couldn’t wipe away, no matter how hard I tried.

I missed Jack. I loved the man. Losing Jack had carved out pieces of my soul I wasn’t sure would ever heal. Turned out I was one of those ridiculous people who believed in soulmates, and I was also the idiot who’d thrown mine away.

Adele’s shoulder bumped mine, a subtle nudge back to the present.

Millsy studied a blinged-out tablet, glittering beads and fluffy balls dangling from the case. “The tribute episode hit Stanley Cup Final viewer numbers. The league owners and PR gurus are in a feeding frenzy to capitalize on this new interest in the sport. Mark Malone flies in today to pitch season two to Jasper.” She paused, eyes sharp beneath her perfectly styled bangs. “But now I’m wondering if you two might have a counter-proposal worth considering.”

The possibilities ricocheted through my mind like pinballs. A chance to tell authentic stories without Malone twisting them into clickbait drama. To capture the kind of raw, honest moments I’d glimpsed during Jack’s tribute episode—stories of dedication and sacrifice that deserved telling. The sort of content that had earned me Emmy nominations before Sydney’s betrayal had derailed everything.

But Jack would be here. Living and working in this town I’d carved out as my refuge.

My thumb found my pulse point. Five steady beats.Inhale. Hold. Release.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Adele asked, practically vibrating with excitement beside me.

“Meeting’s at eleven,” Millsy said, claiming a chair at my usual corner table like she belonged there. “Jasper’s coming to check his investment in the Precision Hockey Development Center. Lord, what a mouthful. Anyway, my cousin is determined to avoid hosting Malone on Pendleton property.” Her lips curved with an amused smirk. “Can’t have just anyone on hallowed ground, I guess.”

Adele bounced in her seat as I swung Bright off my back and claimed the fourth chair at our little table. “Eleven today? We’re scheduled to be there today, anyway! We’re looking for some transition shots to use in the youth sponsor package.”

I fussed with Bright’s backpack, mind whirling. “Maybe we shouldn’t impose on Jasper’s time, though? We weren’t originally part of his schedule and the sponsor footage is important...” My voice trailed off as I calculated angles and implications. Showing up uninvited to meet with someone of Jasper Pendleton’s caliber could backfire spectacularly.

“Actually,” Millsy cut in. “You wouldn’t be imposing. I’m part of the meeting, sweetcheeks, which means I can invite whoever I damn well please—and Jasper won’t bat an eye. Not that he would, anyway.” She adjusted the strap of her bag, casual but deliberate. "Jasper was impressed with how you handled the youth hockey segments in the tribute episode. He’s already running numbers, weighing the PR benefits of sponsoring the Three Corners team. It’s not a matter ofif—it’swhen.And having him see your current work with the development program?" She shot me a knowing look. "That’s a win for both you and the kids."

The pieces aligned in my mind like a perfect camera setup. Making Jasper aware of our work with the youth team could showcase everything we’d built since leavingUnleashed—our focus on community stories, our technical excellence despite the budget constraints, our ability to capture genuine moments without manufacturing conflict.

I gave Bright a pat before settling back into my chair and meeting Millsy’s gaze. “We’re only shooting bonus footage today, but we can load up some video to demonstrate what we’re doing here.”

The youth hockey footage would highlight exactly how far we’d come from Malone’s “bleed it for drama” approach. No more betraying confidences or manipulating narratives for views. Just pure, honest storytelling that actually served the community.

Millsy narrowed her eyes at Bright. “Is that cat staring at me?” She tapped the top of her tablet with a bedazzled stylus. “I swear he’s cursing me out in silent cat.”

Adele snorted. “Don’t feel special. That’s his default look.”

“Please don’t be offended,” I added with a side eye at Bright and Adele. “He’s a good boy, just his expression is a little grumpy. He’s just built that way.”

“And he’ll sit there? In that backpack? Not try and escape?”

“He’ll come out for some of Auntie Rae’s flaky goodness, won’t you, Bright, baby?”

Rae scooted my cat’s chair closer to the table, setting a small plate at the edge of the table within reach of my boy. Sure enough, he moved up to rest his paws on the top of the backpack and leaned closer to nibble the croissant.

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