Page 29 of Offside Secrets
I don’t see her.
The minutes stretch. More hands to shake, more polite banter. My hockey smile—polished but a little stiff—stays in place, but under it, a restless current runs. I know she’s here somewhere, but it’s fair to say I’ve officially lost track of her.
Finally, as dinner approaches, I catch a flash of golden hair across the room. Relief surges—until I see who she’s with. Someone has her cornered, and he’s leaning in far too close. Sutton’s smile is strained, the light in her eyes dimmed.
The restless current in me snaps taut as my protective instinct takes over. I excuse myself mid-conversation, weaving through the crowd like a hawk honing in on its prey.
“Sutton!” I call out, my voice cutting through the chatter as I approach. She looks up, relief washing over her face when she sees me.
“Campbell!” she exclaims, her smile brightening again. I step closer, throwing a casual arm around her shoulder, subtly putting distance between her and…that’s when I see who it is. It’stheguy. The same one who was talking to menot long ago, ready to sell me snake oil that I’m pretty sure he has hidden in the trunk of his car in the parking lot.
“Everything okay?” I ask, keeping my tone light, but the underlying tension is palpable.
“Yeah, just discussing the latest game.” She glances back at the man beside her, who seems less charming now that I’ve shown up.
“Campbell,” he acknowledges as he dips his head toward Sutton. “I’m hearing a lot about how strong of a leader you are.” He holds his wine glass in the air as a mock toast. “To you, sir, and that team you’re leading.”
“It seems you’ve found a true fan here.” I nod, my eyes locking with his for a moment, my protective instincts back on high alert. “Thank you…wait—I never got your name?”
“Victor,” he says, letting out a hot breath that carries just enough stink to make me wonder if someone needs a mint—fast.
We shake hands, and I feel it before I even see it: Sutton’s energy, tense and prickly beside me. I can tell she’s working hard not to recoil, her posture subtly stiffening like a cat sensing trouble. The tiny shudder passing through her tells me everything I need to know—she doesnotwant to be near this man. Not at all.
I force a polite smile, nodding to Victor while keeping my senses alert. Something about the guy sets my teeth on edge. And the way Sutton inches just a fraction away? Yeah. That’s a red flag waving high enough to need its own spotlight.
I break my gaze with him and turn my attention to her. “Well, dinner’s about to start. How about we take our seats?”
“Sounds good,” she replies, and I can feel the gratitude in her voice.
As we head toward the dining area, I glance back over my shoulder, catching the guy’s frustrated expression. I chuckle under my breath, feeling a mix of amusement and satisfaction.Sutton and I might be here for business, but tonight, I’m not just her wingman—I’m her bodyguard, too.
As we settle into our seats, the atmosphere shifts into a more intimate setting. The soft clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversations create a cozy backdrop, and we may be seated at a table of ten, but my focus is solely on Sutton.
“Thanks for the rescue back there,” she says, her voice low but warm, though I can still see the tension in her shoulders. “I didn’t realize how uncomfortable it was until you showed up. That guy hasalwaysbeen a thorn in my side.”
“I did not get a good vibe from him.” I lean back, curiosity piqued. “What’s his deal?”
She takes a breath, her eyes narrowing slightly like just saying his name leaves a bad taste. “Victor and I go back to college. We both went after the same internship at Sterling Media. I worked my tail off for it—late nights, three rounds of interviews, even pitched a campaign idea that they ended up using. I got the job fair and square. He didn’t.”
“And he couldn’t handle it,” I supply, already seeing the pattern.
Her laugh is short and humorless. “Not even close. He told anyone who would listen that I’d cheated, or that my family must’ve pulled strings. He couldn’t believe I’d beaten him on my own merit. That was the start of it.”
I tilt my head, scanning the crowd as if I could spot him lurking, just so I know where to aim if I need to. “So he’s been bitter since college.”
She nods, lips pressing together. “And when I stepped in as the face of the Renegades after Jimmy—well, that just added gasoline to his fire. He spread rumors that I only had the job because of my last name, that Daddy’s money bought me the role. He even tried to stir up doubts with the sponsors.” Her voice lowers, steady but edged with frustration. “Never mind the fact that I’d been building relationships inthis league for years, long before Jimmy bailed. None of that mattered to him.”
A hot flare of anger kicks in my chest. “So he tried to sink your reputation just to cover up the fact that you outworked him.”
“Exactly. Victor doesn’t just compete—he undermines. He whispers, plants doubts, makes himself sound like the authority in the room.” She grimaces. “And the worst part? He stands too close. His hand lingers when he shakes yours, like he owns the space around you. It’s like…an instant permanent nope.”
“Permanent nope?” I laugh. “That a technical term?”
“Very technical. Once the permanent nope kicks in, that’s it. Man could save puppies from a burning building, and I’d still nope him right into next week.”
I grin, catching her gaze. “So I’m hearing you haven’t nope’d me yet.”
She shakes her head slowly, lips curving. “Not even close.”
