Page 22 of Puck Me Secretly

That stunned me. Even more that my father had bought his contract. “Why did you take him on when he’s such a risk?”

“Because he’s one of the best players in the league and if we can tame him, he’ll be a huge factor to getting us the cup.”

Tame him. I realized that this year I would see the not-so-pretty,inner workings of my dad’s mind. Who even talked like that? Everything for him was about control and power. He was never happy unless he was the puppet master, negotiating the strings.

“How do you plan on doing that?”

He glanced over at me. “I don’t. You’re going to.”

My mouth dropped open. “What? How?”

“We’ll meet him after practice. You’ll start by reading him the riot act. Then you’ll monitor his behavior. You will be the monkey on his back.”

Now that was a visual I could do without.

“Dad…”

“Rory,” he interrupted. “We have a lot to teach you this year. Your training starts now.”

“Now?”

He stood up. “Come on. Let’s go down to the ice. I want to introduce you. This introduction is about dominance. You let the team know you own them. You let them know you have all the power and hold all the cards.”

This was insane. “How do I do that?”

He stopped and stared at me. “By understanding that you do own them and by realizing that you are their boss and you have all the power. Is that clear?”

Jesus. “Crystal.”

CHAPTER 8

We walked downto ice level. One of the assistant coaches skated over to us.

“I want the team in front of me in the next minute,” my dad spoke without lifting his eyes up from his notes.

The whistle screamed, and I watched as the players all stopped whatever drills they were running.

“Team meeting, 30 seconds. Hustle!” the assistant coach yelled.

I could feel my heart pound as the players and coaches skated over to the gate where we stood. My dad didn’t even look up as 32 players and eight coaches skated up and formed a semi-circle on the ice in front of us. I was so nervous I had to work to keep my legs from shaking. I glossed over the team and saw a sea of sweaty faces and wet hair beneath helmets.

I did not understand how to radiate power but decided that a good pissed off vibe was better than a scared vibe. I tried to think about world hunger. And how I didn’t want to be here.

Get angry.Find that inner bitch.

My dad bent down and spoke into my ear while everyone stood and watched. I knew this tactic. He was holding everyone captive.This was one of his classic moves. His message was that they could stand and wait until he was good and ready.

His instructions in my ear were clear. “I will introduce you. Then you call #33 out and instruct him to come up for a meeting after practice.”

I nodded, dying inside. I did not want to speak in front of these men. I worked to wipe all expression off my face. The less they could read of me, the less chance these men would realize that I was a big fraud.

My dad began his speech. “My name is Mark Ashford. I’m the owner and GM of the Vancouver Wolves. We will cut nine of you before submitting our opening day player roster to the league. I respect and appreciate the input I get from the coaching staff here, but make no mistake, I make the final decision on who stays and who goes, so work hard.”

He stood there for a moment, letting that threat sink in.

I watched as players shifted on their skates, straightened up, looked more alert.

“I’m proud to introduce my daughter, Rory Ashford, who has returned from studying in New York. She is being groomed to be the next GM of this team. Do not underestimate her. She has been attending hockey games since birth and no one knows more about hockey and this game than her. I wouldn’t be training Rory to take over this job if I didn’t think she could handle it.”

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