The locker room doors open, and Aiden comes out with Cory. They’re dressed and about to go to talk to the press.
“Mom and Dad, please stop fighting,” Aiden says.
I flip them off while Jana completely ignores them.
“I wasn’t jealous. I thought it was in bad taste. And why were you flirting with the Make-A-Wish mommy anyway?”
“I wasn’t flirting. I was talking.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, like I care.”
A door slams at the end of the hallway, startling us both, and we turn to find Mr. Gerhardt standing there.
“You two!” He points at us. “In my office. Now!”
We both huff out a breath.
“You mean my office?”
Jana really can’t help herself, can she?
“Careful, I might just take that office back.” He turns and heads back through the door he came from.
“Look what you did!” She narrows her eyes at me. “You got us in trouble.”
“What are you, ten?”
Her fists clench on either side of her body and she groans. “You’re so… just… uggghhh!”
She walks ahead first, and I follow her through the hallways to the elevator that will take us to the offices. There’re still a few stragglers taking their time leaving the arena and I hear them voicing their displeasure about my coaching, the players, and the entire Fury organization.
“I knew it would be like this when Gerhardt let his daughter take over. What a joke. All these years and we’re gonna lose the Cup again,” one fan says.
“They can still turn it around. I bet they do.”
“Are you kidding me? Did you see Petrov? He’s the entire reason we lost. He couldn’t run defense tonight to save his life.”
Being a player, I’m used to the criticism. The way they’re your biggest fans when you’re playing well and your worst enemies when you’re not.
“And what the hell was with Burrows? Get rid of McIntosh and put Burrows back in the net. The kid is useless. I knew it when they drafted him.”
Jana doesn’t turn around, as if she doesn’t hear them, but it’s impossible not to.
“It’s the chick, I tell you. Rich trust fund girl. Her daddy gives her a team to make his little girl happy. I call bullshit. They have a responsibility to us.”
I wince. That was harsh.
“If she worried about wins half as much as she worries about their damn uniforms, maybe we’d be somewhere. I saw her on that News Today show talking about the retro uniforms. Who the hell gives a shit about those if you aren’t winning?”
Jana’s shoulders falter, but she’ll never let me know how much hearing those insults affect her. That might actually make her vulnerable and Lord knows there’s nothing worse to Jana Gerhardt than that.
“Just go to the country club, sweetheart, and find yourself a rich husband, pop a few kids out to make daddy happy.” Both the fans laugh.
Finally, we press the button for the elevator that will take us up to the executive offices. Once we’re secure inside the small space, I decide I can’t let those words go.
“They’re just angry. People aren’t on our side when we lose. You can’t let them get to you.”
She straightens her shoulders. “I’m not. I know that.”
But there was a hitch in her tone, so I run my thumb over the inside of her wrist. “Jana, they’re just assholes.”
A tear slips down, but she turns away from me, quickly brushing it away. “I’m fine, Kane.” She slides her arm out of my hold and walks out of the elevator.
My stomach clenches at the sight of that tear and her refusal to take any comfort from me. For the millionth time, I wonder what it will take for her to tear down the wall she’s built around herself. I fear I’ll never be able to climb or crack it.
My dad is waiting in my new office—his old one—looking around. The fact he still has a key is a reminder that my position very well may be temporary.
Kane walks in behind me, but my dad is busy inspecting the space and doesn’t address us right away. The room looks completely different. The furniture is either all white or a light wood. Gold and black accents permeate the space.
“It’s definitely you,” my dad says, sitting behind my desk. “Have a seat, you two.”
I fold myself into one of the guest chairs I didn’t think I’d ever be sitting in. I’m a fool for not realizing my dad would tug this away from me. Kane sits next to me and the energy coming off him is so strong, I’m desperate to agree to whatever my dad says just to get out of here.
“I like to think I’m a patient guy,” my dad says, leaning back in my chair before remembering it’s not his enormous chair anymore. “You’ve had months to figure this out together, and disappointed doesn’t even begin to convey how I feel about this situation.” He rises out of the chair and comes around the desk to pace behind us. Neither of us turns toward him. “There’s no camaraderie, no team, no chemistry between you two or out on that ice with the players.”
“Dad, I—”
He’s quick to stop me. “I heard you never had a team outing this season.”
“I—”
“It’s critical to start every season with a team-bonding event. The more they know one another, the more they work as a team toward the common goal. I realize there are friend groups within the team, but they all need to feel a part of things. Jana, you didn’t even know one of your players was injured.”
Kane raises his hand. “That’s on me. I came up yesterday and Jana was busy. I should’ve sent her an email.”
“Are you even having weekly meetings? Have either of you agreed on trades that might need to happen?”
“Well, we were—”
Again, Dad cuts me off. “I’ll take that as a no.” He rounds the desk and sits in my chair, his back straight, hands linked together. “Things change now.”
I’m not sure Kane has ever heard the tone in my dad’s voice right now, but I have. Many times, when I was an out-of-control teenager. Once I took five of my friends to New York City on his plane and his dime. I guess I deserved his wrath that time.
I feel myself closing up like I always do when my dad gets this way. My dad’s going to tell me what needs to happen and I’m going to allow it because I’m a complete and utter failure at this job he entrusted to me.
“With all due respect—” Kane says.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Kane, but this is my show now. I bought this team when no one wanted hockey in Florida. I’ve nurtured it and thought I was leaving it in capable hands. I don’t know why you two can’t put your differences aside to run this team.”
I open my mouth, but Dad raises his hand for me to stop.
“This is what we’re going to do.” He tears a piece of paper off the notepad sitting to his right and takes my favorite gold pen, the one Paisley got me when he gave me the position, and starts scribbling on the sheet. “First thing, we’re planning a team-building event.” He looks up. “And you will both attend. I can’t be clearer that the players have to trust everyone in the organization, including the people in these offices.”