Page 134 of Slap Shot Scandal
But I can’t spin this. This is different—and so much worse.
This is personalandprofessional.
Exactly what I wanted to avoid.
Never mix business with pleasure, Harbor.
“Harbor, you ready?” Julianne raps lightly on the door, and I close my laptop, rising from this desk for the last time.
“Yes.” I force my legs to move. Across the room, down the hall, into the conference room where most of the team’s already seated.
I step to the podium, scanning the familiar faces. Prince, scowling. Tori next to him, her scarlet lips pressed together in a tight line. Coach Keller, arms folded and brows pinched, looking aggravated to be here.
Ford and Morrison, Isaacson and Dupont.
Callum, his mouth turned down. Reserved.
Bennett’s here, fists clenched and forehead furrowed. I’m assuming he’s seen the headlines. Maybe even spoke to Weston.
Weston.
He’s the only person not in the room.
Probably decided it’s better not to be in attendance, given his starring role in the video.
I don’t blame him.
Hopefully, he’ll get to keep his captaincy and come out unscathed.
Gripping the edges of the podium, I ground myself inthe wood grain. Trying to hold on for a few more minutes before walking away with my head held high-ish.
But the room’s too bright, too quiet. Too full of people I’ve let down.
I want to sink into a pit in the carpeted floor and cry myself to sleep. Instead, I clear my throat and forge ahead.
“Thank you for coming. I apologize for the extra meeting—I know how busy the team is as we gear up for the first preseason game. But I wanted to address the recent headlines with you all in person. As you may have heard by now, a second video of the team party held a few weeks ago has leaked.”
A murmur trickles through the room, and I pause, waiting for the side conversations to fade. Pressure builds in my chest, but I push past the tension. The quicker I get through this, the sooner I can escape.
I swallow hard, take a quick sip of air. “Unfortunately, I’m in the video. Again.”
More chattering, a few gasps, and heat creeps up my neck. “Although the video’s innocuous and everything’s speculation, it’s better for the team and the brand if I resign. As of today, I’m no longer working for the Coastal Crushers.”
My voice doesn’t crack, but it should. Numbness has a way of icing even the most brutal goodbyes.
“No.” Weston’s deep voice booms behind me, shattering the silence. Heads swivel, all eyes suddenly on him.
I spin around to face him, his broad chest heaving like he sprinted here. His hair’s disheveled, wind-blown, and his jaw’s set with determination.
“If anyone should step away from this team, it’s me.” He’s strong and firm, hard resolve etched on his face.
“I’m the one who broke the rules. I’m the one who couldn’t stay away. And I won’t apologize for that.”
Stepping forward, he locks his eyes on Prince, then Keller.
“She was doing her job. I was the one pursuing her. Every time. So if someone’s getting benched for this, it should be me.”
My heartrate skyrockets as the entire room glances between me and Weston. My body burns, hands shaking. I’ve never been more grateful to be standing behind a podium in my life. At least the rest of the room can’t see the full-body tremors.
