Page 35 of Puck Me Secretly

Max sounded bored. “Is it or isn’t it?”

Katrina rubbed his arm. “Your ban is lifted.”

“No, it’s not,” incredulity marred my tone. I peeked up at Max. “For the record, the ban will be lifted only by myself or the GM. If you proceed without that, do so at your own peril.”

Katrina scoffed. “Are you nowthreatening Max?”

“No, I’m trying to make it clear to Max that I haven’t authorized him to talk to the media.”

She rolled her eyes. “Max, she doesn’t have the authority to make these decisions.”

I couldn’t take it. “What’s your issue, Katrina?”

She spun around to face me. “My issue is that I don’t take orders from a teenager who thinks it’s fun to play in Daddy’s world.”

Humiliation flooded my cheeks with warmth.

“Have a good night,” my stupid voice quivered on the last word. I walked away to the sound of Katrina’s amused laughter.

CHAPTER 13

All I wantedto do was go home but catching a cab so soon after the game would be impossible.

I swiped my key to access the locked executive offices and made my way to my office.

I made a gin and tonic and then stood at my window and studied the near empty arena. Only a few straggler fans remained, while a Zamboni circled the ice and men with shovels scrapped the ice up from along the boards.

I shut my eyes and put my forehead on the cool glass. Tears blurred my vision.

What had I expected? I knew this job wouldn’t be easy but in my naïvety I thought it’d be hard because I’d be working for Dad. I hadn’t imagined that I’d come against the likes of Katrina.

“You want to tell me what is going on?”

I stiffened at the sound of Max’s voice. “How did you get up here?”

“A security guard let me in.”

I stood still, watching a father and daughter. They remained in their seats, laughing every time the Zamboni drove by their corner. Itreminded me of better times when my dad and I used to watch hockey together. When had I started to fight him and his world? I missed how close we used to be.

“Are you okay?”

I took a deep, calming breath and lied. “Fine.”

“So, what did I witness between you and Katrina?”

I stared down at the arena. Father and daughter put on their coats. She chatted and her dad listened with rapt attention. Would my dad and I ever be that close again?

The Zamboni made its final lap.

“Katrina wants us to lift your media ban.”

“I got that part.”

I turned to him. He stood with his feet planted, and his hands in the pocket of his suit. The guy could be the face of Armani. He had the body and the bank account of a professional athlete and the face of a model. No wonder he wanted to keep on playing the field. He could get any woman he wanted.

Which made it even more embarrassing that I had thought for a fleeting moment he’d want me.

“I don’t want you to talk to the media yet.”

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