Finally, the commercial ends and the cameras show our players getting back on the ice.
Kane keeps Freeman in, and I clench my fists. Drake should be the man on the ice right now.
The puck is everywhere, our team doing their damndest to score a goal, let alone two, but we’d have to have four-leaf clovers up our asses for that to happen.
None of it comes to fruition and we lose by two goals.
The commentators dig right in that my dad made the wrong choice in Kane and questioning why I’m not there. My dad never really went to away games, so why would I? Screw the commentators. I’d give them a big middle finger if they were in front of me.
I pick up my cell phone and call Kane, but it goes directly to voice mail. Instead of answering my phone call, the owner of the team he coaches, he walks with the guys into the locker room.
Two minutes later, my phone rings and his name comes on the screen.
“Why the hell would you put Freeman in?”
“I’m sorry. Are you questioning me?” His tone is defensive, but I continue drilling.
“In a situation like that, Drake should be in. He’s the veteran player. He knows how to play it safe. Freeman lost the puck, and we got another goal against us.”
“Listen, Jana, I’ve got to do the press conference now and you need to cool down. We can discuss the moves I made and why I made them tomorrow when I’m back.”
“Don’t you hang up on me,” I say. “Do you have any idea how important this season is? How much both of our reputations ride on it? You can’t just go rogue and do what you want.”
He laughs and I hear a door shut. “Careful, you sound a lot like your father. Of course I know how important this season is. I don’t want to be the reason these guys don’t win a Cup, but it’s an exhibition game. It’s for me to feel out the players, see where they fit. Drake played the majority of the game, and it was Freeman’s turn. Oregon is good, our biggest competitors this season. Now I’m going to go talk to our team and you’re going to calm down.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m going to do!” I shout.
“Bye, Jana.”
“Don’t hang up on me!”
The line dies and I stare at the phone in disbelief. What the hell?
Jana is fortunate I had to travel thousands of miles last night before coming face-to-face with her this morning. This dynamic between us won’t work if she’s going to call me after every game, questioning my every decision.
I take the elevator up to the team’s offices. Although I’m technically management now, I keep myself downstairs by the locker room as much as I can. There’s a clear distinction between the people up here and the rest of us down below and I’d like to keep it like that.
A few faces turn in my direction as I round the corner of the hallway, and I dodge the people leaving the break room with hot coffees in hand.
“Coach Burrows,” a woman mumbles with a slight nod, sliding her back to the wall to let me through.
I wince since I’m still not used to the coach moniker before my last name.
I knock on the door that reads Jana Gerhardt, but no one answers, so I stomp down to the other end of the hallway where her new office is. Sure enough, she’s there in the owner’s office, talking to a woman I assume is a designer about what she likes and doesn’t like.
Barbara slides her chair out to stand. “Sorry, Mr. Burrows, she’s in a meeting.”
I put my hand up for her to stay seated. “It will only take a minute.”
“Mr. Burrows, she’s not to be interrupted.”
“Jana,” I announce myself, standing in the doorway. “We need to have a word.”
She glances my way. She knows exactly why I’m here. Did she really think I would just let that phone conversation after the game go?
“I’m busy, Kane. I’ll come find you in an hour or so.”
I want to press her, just to piss her off as much as I am right now, but I step back. “I’ll wait.”
So I take a seat along the wall across from Barbara. Barbara stares long and hard at me as though she’s my teacher and I disobeyed her. Then she types again. What on earth is she always typing?
“How are you liking your new boss?” I ask Barbara after a few minutes of silence.
She glances at me then back at her screen. “I’ve always enjoyed Jana.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
She leans back in her chair and huffs. “What do you want me to say? I clearly don’t have the same relationship with her that you do.”
My forehead wrinkles. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I wouldn’t bulldoze my way into her office without an appointment.” Her eyebrows rise and a curl falls into her line of vision. She blows it out of the way as if it would take too much time for her to move it with her fingers.
The phone rings, which is for the best, because I’m so angry I’m about to say something I’ll regret. Then I consider the fact that here I am waiting on Jana—again.
“You know what?” I stand and walk over to Barbara’s desk.
She scribbles a handwritten note on a pad of paper and holds up her index finger.
“She can come find me.” I walk out and back through the maze of offices to the elevators, then go down to where I feel comfortable.
The guys are starting to show up for practice. They all greet me, and I mumble hellos, heading to my office. The small space is still pretty bare. All of Coach Vittner’s plaques, awards, and pictures with players are gone, leaving the walls a beat-up, stark white. I haven’t had the time, nor do I have the personal effects, to make this my space. The whiteboard in the corner is all I need for now.
I go over a new play I’ve been working on. We have our powerhouses on the wings. Ford and Warner are unstoppable, but they’re becoming a little too predictable. Oregon proved that yesterday when they seemed to know what play we were going to run before we even did it.
A half hour later, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I look up from my notes to find Jana in my doorway.
“What is your problem? Maybe I need to remind you how the hierarchy works around here.” She steps in and shuts the door.
I lean back in my chair. This would be a helluva lot easier if I wasn’t so fucking attracted to her. “Have a seat, Jana, but you can leave the attitude at the door. I’ve seen you come around my cock, my fingers, and my tongue. You’re not going to intimidate me.”
She remains standing. No surprise there. “You can’t just barge into my office. Whether you like it or not, there is a hierarchy here.”
“You made it clear how that works last night.”
“I stand by what I said.” She crosses her arms. All it does is push up her breasts, something I do my best to ignore.
“And I’m going to say it again. You cannot tell me what to do on the ice. That’s my job.”
“I’m the owner.”
“So you’ve played hockey? You want me to use a play you’ve been working on in our next game? How about you get out there and do some drills, show the guys some things.”
She narrows her eyes, and they pierce into me.
Jesus, angry Jana gets me hot. It’s childish, but when she gets like this, I want to see her bend to my will. I want to kiss her until she gives up the fight and lets me in, even if it’s only her bed and not her heart.