Page 7 of Slap Shot
"Of course not."
"Good. Keep me informed of your progress."
Heather took the dismissal and headed back to the elevator. Westlake's support was crucial, but his knowledge about Oliver suggested someone was already talking. In her experience, workplace gossip about a woman working closely with an attractive male colleague rarely ended well for the woman.
The elevator doors opened on the executive floor, and she nearly collided with a man in a navy suit who was juggling his phone, a coffee, and a stack of files.
"Oh, sorry! Multi-tasking fail," he said with a sheepish grin, steadying his coffee. "You must be Dr. Quincy. Travis Dane, Jack's assistant. I keep meaning to stop by and introduce myself, but it's been crazy around here."
"No problem. Nice to meet you." Heather shook his offered hand.
"How are you settling in? I know the transition to a new organization can be tough, especially in a specialized role like yours." Travis seemed genuinely concerned as he walked with her toward the elevator. "Jack mentioned you've been diving deep into our systems. Finding everything you need?"
"Just getting oriented. Standard security assessment process."
"That's good to hear. I have to admit, when Jack first mentioned hiring a cybersecurity consultant, I wondered if we'd had some kind of breach." He laughed, adjusting his glasses. "But I guess it's more about prevention, right? Being proactive?"
The elevator arrived, and Travis held the door. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but it must be challenging being one of the few women in a technical role around here. The sports world can be pretty old-school sometimes."
Finally, someone who gets it.Travis reminded her of the good managers from her previous job—professional, established, genuinely supportive.
"I'm used to working in male-dominated environments."
"I bet you are. And honestly, it's refreshing. Coach Kovalchuk's been such a great addition too - really shows the organization is moving in the right direction." Travis stepped back as she entered the elevator. "If you ever need anything from the administrative side - access to files, scheduling meetings, whatever - just let me know. We're all here to support each other."
The doors began to close. "Thanks, I appreciate that."
"Have a good rest of your day, Dr. Quincy."
As the elevator descended, Heather's mind was already shifting back to the security analysis waiting for her downstairs.
She found Oliver exactly where she'd left him, bent over his laptop with the kind of focus she'd seen players bring to video review sessions. Charlie lay at his feet, occasionally lifting his head when footsteps passed in the hallway.
"How did it go?" Oliver asked without looking up.
"Better than expected. Westlake's giving me whatever resources I need." She reclaimed her seat, noting how Oliver's shoulders relaxed at the news. "But he made a point of mentioning you specifically."
Now Oliver did look up, wariness creeping into his expression. "What kind of point?"
"The kind that suggests people are already talking about us working together." She met his gaze directly.
"Is that going to be a problem for you?" he asked.
The question hung between them, loaded with implications. Heather found herself studying his face, noting the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark eyes seemed to see straight through her facade.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I've never worked this closely with someone who..." She trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence without crossing lines she wasn't ready to cross.
"Someone who what?"
"Someone who makes it hard to focus on work."
The words came out quieter than she'd intended, honest in a way that made her want to take them back immediately. Oliver went very still, his gaze intensifying.
"Heather—"
"We should get back to the security breach," she said quickly, before he could say something that would make this situation even more complicated. "That's what matters right now."
But even as she turned back to her laptop, she noticed the weight of his attention, the electric awareness that had been building between them since yesterday. And despite every instinct screaming at her to maintain boundaries, she couldn't shake the feeling that working with Oliver Chenofski was going to test every rule she'd made about keeping her personal and professional lives separate.
