Page 153 of The Fine Line
“Of course.”
“The Storm are underutilizing you as a rinkside reporter. I’ve been doing this a long time, and you? You’re built for the broadcast desk. You’ve got it.”
Something shifts in my chest—not doubt, but recognition. Because I’ve known it too.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “That’s the goal. And I plan to get there.”
Tom studies me for a second longer, then leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “Keep this between us, but I was in New York last week. Had dinner with some old colleagues. Word is the Titans’ color commentator is leaving for one of the major networks.”
I blink. The New York Titans. Top-tier. Huge market. Huge reach.
“They’re going to start looking for someone new soon,” he continues, pulling a card from his inside pocket. “And I think your name should be in the mix. I’m going to make sure they hear it.”
I take the card, my hand slightly shaky as I meet his eyes. “Thank you. Truly. I appreciate it more than I can say.”
“I can’t make promises,” he says, “but I’ll put in the word.”
“That’s all I could ask for,” I reply. “That’s all I need.”
He gives me a long, measured look. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If you get a chance—take it. Even if this one doesn’t pan out, take the next one. I know you’ve got ties to Texas, but opportunities in this business are rare. Especially for women. If a door opens—walk through it. Don’t get complacent.”
I nod, slowly, firmly. “I could never,” I say softly. “I promise.”
I’m still staring at Tom’s business card as I push through the revolving door of the hotel. My feet carry me automatically toward the elevators, but a sudden burst of cheers to my right stops me in my tracks.
I skid to a halt, the card nearly falling from my fingers. I steady it, slipping it into my coat pocket before taking in the scene.
The entire Texas Storm roster is crowded into the hotel bar, glasses raised, clapping and cheering.
“Caroline!” Ronan calls, weaving through the group. “There you are! Come celebrate!”
He loops an arm around me, pulling me into the group before I can ask what’s going on. He grabs a glass of champagne from a nearby table and hands it to me.
“Oh… thanks,” I say, still trying to catch up. I glance down at the bubbling glass, then back at the grinning faces around me.
“What?” Ronan teases. “Not a champagne girl?”
“No, I like champagne,” I say, smiling faintly. “I just… why are we celebrating? You guys lost.”
Luke appears, slinging an arm around Ronan’s neck. “Sure, but you didn’t.”
I blink, a grin starting to pull at my lips. “Wait… did you guys really do this for me?”
“Of course we did,” Ragnar says, ruffling my hair from behind.
I shrug off my coat and drape it over the back of a chair just as Luke adds, “We couldn’t believe it in the locker room.”
My brows lift. “What do you mean?”
“When we saw you on TV during intermission. We were all watching.”
“You were?”
He nods, and John chimes in, “You were incredible, Caroline. Like you’ve been doing it your whole life.”
