Page 30 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“Well, we’re clearly on the same wavelength,” I say with a small laugh, adjusting the strap of my camera bag on my shoulder.
“Definitely,” Brooke says with a grin.
“Great minds think alike,” Lydia agrees.
“Huh, ladies,” Landon sighs, putting his phone away.
The sliding doors whoosh open, revealing the expansive training center. A few players in Avalanche jerseys walk by, and I cannot help but admire the blend of modern design with elements that scream hockey - trophy displays, framed jerseys, and the faint, distinct scent of the rink. Lydia’s eyes widened like a kid at Disney World.
“It’s huge,” she says.
“Wait until you see the rink,” someone says with a knowing smile, then walks by.
Turning a corner, the door across from us swings open, and Liam steps out, his jersey on and a towel around his neck. His sharp gaze flicks over us, landing briefly on me before moving on.
Brooke’s voice drops to an exaggerated whisper. “How cool is it that the big boss is also a team member?”
“Very cool,” Lydia agrees, “I’ve been dying to see him in his element.” She nudges me with her elbow. “What do you think?”
I shrug, keeping my expression neutral. “Yeah.”
Her eyes narrow, but thankfully, she lets it drop. Ever since I found out Liam and I were neighbors, I have made it a point to avoid him as much as possible. So far, we have only bumped into each other twice, and each encounter was about as enjoyable as stepping on a LEGO.
A lady approaches us, an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you at the door. I am Katie, one of the media coordinators and assistant coach. Welcome to the Avalanche Training Center! I’ll be your guide for the day."
She gestures for us to follow her. “We will head to the locker room first so you can meet the team. After introductions, you can set up by the rink for some shots during practice.”
Landon leans in toward Lydia. “This is pretty cool, right? I have never been this close to an actual hockey team.”
“Or a hockey star,” Brooke adds with a grin, her eyes sparkling.
The moment we enter the locker room, the atmosphere shifts. It is bustling yet somehow orderly, with players finishing lacing up skates, adjusting pads, or chatting amongst themselves. The scent of leather and sweat is distinctive but not overpowering, adding to the electric energy of the space.
Katie claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Gentlemen, if I can have a moment!” Everyone gradually quieted down, turning their attention to us. “I would like to introduce you to the photographers who will be working among the team for the duration of the campaign and game season. Please meet Lydia Reynolds, Brooke Carter, Landon Hughes, and Hazel McKee.”
The moment my name is mentioned, I see a couple of glances linger on me, a beat too long, and some eyebrows raised in recognition. Of course, they will know my name…, it’s a small town, and I bet I was the subject of a good story. I keep my face neutral, giving them a polite nod as I adjust my grip on my bag.
“They will be capturing your best moments during practice. So, look sharp.” Katie winks, prompting a round of chuckles.
She turns to us. “As I said earlier, this is practice. We will have a dedicated session later if you need more shots. For now, just get what you can.”
We nod.
Katie gives a satisfied nod. “Alright, I am leaving you guys to it. Be nice.” She levels a pointed look at a few of the louder ones before turning on her heel and walking out.
As soon as she is gone, one of the players, tall with shaggy blond hair, grins and steps forward. “I don’t know if this is appropriate,” he begins with a playful lilt, “but I have to say, it’s an honor having three beautiful women here.”
“Smooth. What am I? Chopped liver?” Landon mutters.
Brooke beams, Lydia snickers, and I smirk.
“Alright, um…, here’s what we’re going to do…,” I start, only to be cut off.
“I’m sorry,” a guy with sharp blue eyes steps forward. “This might be biased, but I have to say, Hazel, I am your biggest fan. During my studies in photography, your works have come up so many times as a reference, no offense to the rest of you,” he says to the three smirkers beside me.
“None taken.”
“It’s fine.”
