Page 92 of The Pucking Date
The thought lands softly. Again. Then hits hard.
I need to tell him.
Today.
I roll my suitcase into the bedroom, unzip it, and grab my necessities. That will do for tonight. I’m stuffing clothes into an overnight bag when my phone lights up with a push alert.
New Report Raises Red Flags on Endorsements: Finn O’Reilly’s Family Ties Resurface
The words stop me cold. I snatch the phone, tap the article. It’s worse than I expected—positioned as an ethics piece, name-dropping Finn’s father, and rehashing every detail of the financial scandal. No mention of Finn’s own record. No balance. No context.
My phone buzzes again. Unknown Caller. I hesitate, then swipe to answer.
“This is Jessica Novak.”
“Hi, this is Shelby Larson from Under Armour’s athlete brand team. Sorry to call on a Sunday night, but I needed to connect before tomorrow morning. We’re finalizing Finn O’Reilly’s contract terms, and I just saw the article about his father. I’ll be honest, it’s raising some red flags.”
My spine straightens as I sit on the edge of the bed.
“I read it too. It’s a transparent hit piece and doesn’t reflect Finn’s character in the slightest. His record—on and off the ice—is spotless.”
A pause. “We’re very selective about new signings. Our brand targets all demographics. We can’t risk reputational exposure, not with something this sensitive.”
“I completely understand,” I say smoothly. “Let me send you a package—hospital partnerships, youth mentorship programs, charity games. He’s not just clean. He’s the kind of athlete brands dream of.”
Another pause. Then she exhales. “Alright. Please send it tonight. I’ll review it with my team first thing tomorrow.”
“You’ll have it within the hour.”
I hang up with Shelby and quickly text Joy.
Jessica: Need Finn’s PR highlights. UA’s on edge over that article. Can you pull together the community work reel and the youth mentorship stats?
Jessica: Sorry it’s a Sunday. Can you confirm?
She replies within seconds.
Joy: Got you. Give me fifteen. I’ll cc you on the email.
Joy: And I’m always on call for emergencies involving our favorite hockey menace.
I exhale. God, I’m lucky to have her. Always on the ready, always fast. We couldn’t have found a better hire.
Chad’s behind this, I’m sure of it. The timing is too perfect, too calculated. I toss my phone on the bed. Then I pick it back up.
Time to end this once and for all.
I scroll through my contacts and hit call.
“Jessica,” Chad answers, tone smug and syrup-slick. “I knew you’d come around. Needed some time to reconsider, huh?”
I keep my tone steady, intrigued. “Maybe. You said you were serious about the offer. I might be ready to jump.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says. “I meant every word. You’ve been running that team in the shadows long enough. It’s time the world saw your name on the door. Novak Communications. Full autonomy. Clients ready to go. And I’ll even throw in a penthouse on the Upper West Side. Quick stroll through the park from my place.”
I glance toward the door, then tap record and switch to speaker.
“Walk me through the terms,” I say, pacing to my dresser. “Let’s make sure we’re aligned.”
