Page 4 of Slap Shot Scandal
Now it’s my turn to raise my hand.
“Excuse me—what do you mean by ‘polish our image’? What’s wrong with our current image?”
Harbor smooths her hair over her shoulder, her gaze flicking to Max. He gives her a barely perceptible nod and she takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling.
“There’s been an incident—” She locks her wide eyes directly on mine. “And it’s not great. Publicity wise.”
Is she talking about the loss in the playoffs? Because all of this seems extreme.
“What are we talking about here? Sure, we lost in game five, but it happens to teams every year.” I fold my arms across my chest, leveling my gaze on her.
She swallows hard, straightening her shoulders. “We’re not talking about the playoffs. You’re going to hear it eventually, so I’ll tell you all now. Coach Evans had, um, sexual relations with Mrs. Prince. He’s also currently under league investigation for illicit gambling involving the team.”
Another gasp from the room and more side conversations break out.
I can’t believe this.Coach was banging the owner’s wife? And worse—may have been betting on his own team?
Mind spinning, I glance at Prince and his clenched fists, the stony gaze. Dude’s usually uptight, but he seems more stressed than normal. Guess now I know why.
Harbor waves her hand through the air, silencing the chatter. “As upsetting as all this is, we need to come together as a team right now. Close the gates and shut down the rumor mill.”
Max nods, agreeing with her plan. Then he steps forward.
“The performance in the playoffs, plus the gambling investigation, has sponsors nervous. To cut losses, I’m relocating the team. We’re moving the franchise to Florida, effective this upcoming season. It will be a fresh start for this team. Everyone will be given a moving stipend and off-season practice with the new coach begins in one month.”
Damn.
This keeps getting better.Florida?Great for Spring Break, but moving an entire professional hockey team there?
“Oh, hell no.” Vic shoves upright from his spot on the wall. “I’m not moving to Florida! I got kids here.”
Murmurs break out around the table and Max waves his hand through the air.
“Enough! You’re free to make your own decisions. You’ll break your contract, making you a free agent. But that’s your choice. I’ll need it all in writing by the end of the weekend.”
More mumbling and grumbling rolls around the room. Harbor leans over, whispering in Max’s ear.
“The team will reimburse everyone for the move, plus provide relocation assistance to secure new living arrangements. I ask that you not speak to the media at this time. Ms. Hayes will be the spokesperson for this team. Only the two of us will address the press. We’ll hold the official press conference announcing the relocation in forty-eight hours. Until then, I expect complete media silence from everyone in this room. Additionally, Ms. Hayes will be spearheading a team rebranding campaign, helping rehab our image.”
Rehab? Nothing’s wrong with the team’s image, outside of Mrs. Prince fucking around and Coach maybe making a few bets.
“Right. I have a few PR strategies up my sleeve, percolating, and I’m excited to be on board!” Harbor flashes a bright smile around the room, and I grimace.
I don’t like this one little bit.
Not the new coach. The relocation. Not the rebranding, the bogus PR campaign. And I sure as hell don’t like the sprightly blonde, flipping her hair and shining bright as the North fucking star up there.
“Thanks for coming!” Harbor waves like a damn theme park greeter, and I roll my eyes so hard the sockets hurt.
“What in the actual fuck?” Bennett grumbles, pushing off the wall. “Evans screwed Prince’s wife? When? Where?”
“Really, Benny? That’s what you’re hung up on?” Callum elbows Bennett. “Not the fact that Coach may have thrown the playoffs? Or that we’re all moving to Florida and getting a new coach? You’re over here thinking aboutthe lewd and lascivious acts of Mrs. Prince and Coach Evans?”
“Hell, yeah, I am. That was the interesting part of the story.” Bennett runs his fingers through his hair. “Wes, you didn’t know anything about this? I thought you and Coach were tight.”
So did I.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to dull the sudden throbbing in my head. Change always knocks me sideways and this is a shit ton all at once.
