Page 6 of Slapshot
I tried but failed to hide my reaction. Everyone knew Dante was one of the best in the business. She had gotten more players out of hot water than I’d had caffeine-free days… Okay, bad analogy. But she was a badass at what she did.
“So… what do you think?”
Her expression was expectant, and I silently cursed my distraction. What had she asked?
“I… don’t know…” Was I really in a position to cast judgment on her life choices?
“You’re great at what you do, and I feel like with a little training and a lot more self-confidence, you’d be a perfect fit. I could mentor you through this season.”
Did she mean…?
“You want me to go for the PR position?”
Dante’s brow wrinkled like we were speaking two different languages.
“That’s what I said. What do you think?”
A buzzing started at my toes, that flush making a reappearance in my cheeks, causing my scalp to itch. PR manager for the Austin Aces. I’d never considered moving that high because I couldn’t imagine the team without Dante at the head of it. But under her mentorship, it could be me next year.
Immediately, negative thoughts streamed in, to the tune ofnot good enough, too unsophisticated,andwho do you think you are?The voice, I realized, was my mother’s.
She could take my self-image, but I’d be damned if she took my professional one. With a deep breath, I mustered a smile for Dante.
“I’d love to.”
Cian
Blair was practically vibratingout of her skin when she returned to the rink. Without a fuss, she handed me a huge coffee cup and bent to pull her skates on.
“Thanks. You didn’t spit in it, did you?” I joked, taking a sip and almost choking on the sweetness. Okay, if she had the same thing as me, it made sense that her nervous system was about to crash. Sending up a prayer for my blood sugar levels, I took a gulp, not willing to piss her off if this was some kind of olive branch.
“I thought about it, but no. Come on. Let’s get this done.”
She slid her cell out of her pocket and affixed it to the selfie stick thing she usually used on the ice. Tapping at the screen, she skated toward the center of the ice, completely absorbed in whatever settings she was playing with. Her confidence on skates was something I knew on the same level I knew when to take the shot during a game and when to go for the assist. It was innate. But as I followed her onto the rink, it occurred to me that she was too good for just a regular skater.
I wondered if she had played in the past. Or maybe did another ice sport like figure skating or something. Maybe I could ask her. It was the kind of thing people did when they were making friends.
“Hey, how did you—”
Blair looked up from her phone. “We’re going to do an easy lap to start. No helmet, just vibing on the skates.”
I nodded, swallowing the question as she returned the gesture and skated backward with her phone trained on me. With the door firmly shut on conversation, I settled into the session and found it was a lot more fun than I’d thought. Blair had no trouble keeping up, even when I pulled an asshole move and started sprinting, just to see what she’d do. It made me think of all those adventurer shows where the host would climb the big dangerous thing and dramatically take all the praise for being fearless when they had a camera crew doing the same exact thing while also making the host look good on camera. That was Blair. A freaking boss. Keeping up while also steadying a camera that would make me look like a star.
By the time Marco Russo, our assistant coach, caught my attention to inform me it was time to start training, I was warm and feeling the good vibes. This was the year. No more bad blood between me and Blair.
“Before you go,” she called, catching the gate behind me. I raised a brow and waited. “There’s a function Friday night. The Aces need a presence there and you’re it.”
I groaned, feeling the happiness drain out of me at the thought of formal suits and ego massaging.
“Surely, there’s someone else…”
“Nope. You’re it, alternate captain. Make sure you get any dry-cleaning that you need done. You have to look your best for the start of season.”
I swiped a hand over my face, hoping that when I met her gaze again, I’d see any hint that she was fucking with me. Nope. Her eyes were steady, content to wait for my agreement while I knew damn well I needed to get my ass to the change rooms.
Did I say she was good at her job? Maybe she was just a hardass.
“Who else is going?”
