Page 18 of Rookie Move
Nate held open her office door. She followed him out into the corridor. Their path took them through the lobby and down a tunnel built from brick and glass block, toward the brand-new practice arena that Nate had built here on the edge of the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
Her high-ranking companion didn’t say anything as they walked together. At first, working for a man like Nate had been intimidating. But his casual ways had eventually won her over. Today he wore his trademark hoodie and sneakers. Of course, the hoodie was a cashmere model from Bergdorf, and the sneakers were Tom Ford.
His silence made her feel a little edgy, though the stress may have been all in her head. With Nate you never knew what he was thinking. He might be inventing the next bit of software that changed the way your cell phone connected to the Internet. Or he might be deciding which global aid nonprofit would most benefit from a hundred million dollar grant.
Or? He might be trying to decide how to break the news of her demotion.
“That was quite a gaffe Leo Trevi made at the press conference yesterday,” he said eventually.
“I’m sure sorry it went down like that,” she said quickly, as her stomach dove toward her knees.
“I know.” He actually chuckled. “At least it wasn’t aboringpress conference.”
Georgia would have preferred that. But since they were having this carefree chat, she probably needed to confess something. “Um, as it happens, Leo Trevi and I dated in high school. So there’s, uh, going to be a picture circulating on the gossip rags.”
Nate gave her the side-eye as he held the rink door open for her. “Acompromisingpicture? Your father won’t like that.”
“God no.” She took a very deep breath and let it out. “No—one of the reporters dug up our high school yearbook.”
“Ah.” Nate chuckled. “So it’s just bad hair and a cheesy caption. The team has survived worse publicity.”
His relative indifference to this circus was not what she’d expected. “Uh, true,” she stammered, passing him as the icy rink air enveloped them. “And I’ll, um, set up that interview with theTimes.”
“Excellent. Chin up, Georgia.” He gave her an unreadable grin and walked past her.
So she might survive the week after all. Who knew?
Camera bulbs flashed as Nate made his way through the crowd and into the guts of the training facility. Fans were almost as curious about him as they were about the players. Though practice had already ended, and the rink staff were busy making sure that bystanders stayed behind the velvet ropes separating the public area of the rink from the lockers, treatment rooms, and gym. Last year they’d found some puck bunnies waiting naked in the team hot tub after an open practice, so constant vigilance was necessary.
Georgia pulled up the hood on her sweatshirt just in case any of the bystanders were with the media and happened to recognize her from yesterday’s press conference. Then she approached the staff members guarding the entrance, where a lengthy line of patient fans waited to see who’d emerge to sign autographs.
It was a rink employee they called Old Bob who unhooked the rope for Georgia as she approached. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“How was practice, Bob?”Did either my father or the captain come to blows with my ex-boyfriend on the ice?
“Lookin’ good, Miss Georgia. I like our chances against Tampa tomorrow night.”
Whew. “So do I. See you there, all right?” Leaving the crowd behind, she walked quickly down the brightly lit hallway. She passed through another set of doors and proceeded toward the locker room. But she stopped just outside it.
Entering the locker room was something she had to do from time to time. But it wasn’t her favorite place to speak to players. In the first place, it was difficult to know whereto put her eyes while waiting for some dude to put on his underwear and speak to her. All that male hotness in one place made a girl a little dizzy.
And today the whole issue was suddenly ten times trickier. BecauseLeowas in there. She didnotneed to see Leo naked. It was bad enough knowing that they basically worked in the same building now. The team had a series of home games this week, and it was weird knowing that she could turn a corner at any moment and come face to face with the only man who had ever loved her.
Naked Leo would be more than her poor heart could take. She’d probably burst an artery if she spotted all six-foot-two, two hundred muscled pounds of him (thank you, stat sheet) across the locker room. Her imagination kept wanting to veer off and picture Leo 2.0 without his clothes on. As a teenager, he’d already been strong and fit. She used to admire his biceps while sitting in the passenger seat of his truck.
Now? If she stood in that locker room while he stripped, they’d have to surgically remove her gaze from his muscular ass.
She could never go in that room again. Obviously.
Fortunately, players began to emerge from the locker room in ones and twos, their hair wet from the showers. “Massey!” She stopped one of them in the hallway, her clipboard poised. “You didn’t RSVP for the Brooklyn Arts Benefit next week. Don’t forget about it.”
The big defenseman paused to give her a grin. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there. And I’m bringin’ someone, but I haven’t decided who.”
Georgia made a note on her pad. “Okay. E-mail me her name at least forty-eight hours before, okay? You don’t want to stand around while they hunt for your date’s name on the last-minute list.”
“Will do.” He lumbered off and she snagged one of the next two guys to emerge, asking him the same question.
When she next looked up, Leo was standing just twofeet away, looking down at her with those sweet brown eyes she’d always loved. “Hi, Georgia,” he said.
