Page 36 of The Fine Line
“Here we go,” I breathe.
But he fumbles. The puck slides loose between his skates. Ottawa grabs it before he even realizes.
Seconds later, they score again.
“Dammit,” I mutter, smacking a hand to my forehead.
I glance up at the screen. Rhett’s shaking his head as he returns to the bench. Dad leans in. Says something low. Rhett doesn’t look up.
I blow out a breath.
Can’t wait to interview him in front of a few hundred thousand people.
I glance at the screen. Rhett shakes his head as he returns to the bench. Dad appears behind him, leaning and muttering something low and, probably not very kind or encouraging. Mydad is known for his champion poker face. And right now—it’s cracking.
I blow out a breath.
Can’t wait to interview him in front of a few hundred thousand people.
Unless someone pulls off a miracle in?—
I check the clock.
Forty-eight seconds.
“Oh, joy.”
Right on cue, my earpiece crackles.
“Caroline, you there?” Bryan asks.
“Yep, I’m here,” I say, already moving toward the tunnel. “Does Da—Coach Barrett know I’m talking to him, or do I need to grab him on the way in?”
“Actually,” Bryan says, “we’re going with Sutty.”
I stop dead. “Sorry, what?”
“Rhett Sutton,” he repeats. “We need to hear from him.”
“But… you said if no one scored?—”
“I know. But this is the right call. Fans will want to hear from the captain. And it’s good practice for him before the press conference.”
“But can’t we?—”
“There’s fifteen seconds left. Are you in place?”
“Yes. Totally,” I lie, hitting mute as I jog.
I reach the tunnel just as the horn sounds. The cameraman’s waiting. Bryan runs through key points I need to hit in the interview. I smile like I’ve got it handled.
And I do.
Technically.
But this?
This is my worst-case scenario.
