But I figured that since I was strong enough to come back from the brink of death, I can absolutely figure out how to be normal again in my interactions with people.
“I’m more than good,” I assure her. “Brienne is amazing to work for, and I really feel like an integral part of this team. I mean, Emory… we’re making history in the sporting world.”
“That you are,” she agrees. “It’s a good thing Jett’s been teaching you about hockey,” she adds impishly.
“No kidding!” Emory’s boyfriend, Jett, had taken me under his wing and made it his mission when I was in Arizona to turn me into a hockey aficionado. I’m now able to converse on a fairly educated level about the sport.
“And have you been going out at all?” she asks with enough insinuation that I know she’s talking about one person.
And I’m not going to give her the satisfaction just yet.
I’ll make her work for it.
“Yeah,” I exclaim joyfully. “Sophie and I have been out to eat a few times.”
“Go anywhere else?”
“Sure… I’ve managed to locate the grocery store, pharmacy, and an amazing little coffee shop all within a few blocks of my apartment.”
Emory growls. “I’m talking about Gage. Has he called you?”
I chuckle and try to play it off, but I’ll admit to the small kernel of disappointment when I have to tell her, “No, he hasn’t called. Why would he?”
“Because there was a connection. A spark. You told me so.”
“I didn’t say that exactly. I told you he was a nice guy who worried that he offended me and told me I had pretty eyes.”
“Whatever,” she dismisses. “I think there’s something there.”
“How can you even say that?” I grouse. “He never even asked for my phone number.”
“Maybe he’s shy,” she suggests.
“Maybe he has a girlfriend.” That’s truly what I think. He was being nice to me and is in no way interested, probably because he’s already involved with someone. A guy that gorgeous and genuine just isn’t single.
I hold back a wistful sigh. It was silly to imagine that there could’ve been something between us. Still, I’m incredibly happy with this first week in Pittsburgh, and I know I’ve made the right choice for my life.
There’s a knock at my door, and Brienne peeks her head in. “Got time for a quick talk?”
“Absolutely,” I reply, and when she disappears, I tell Emory, “I gotta go. I’ll try to call you later tonight.”
“Okay,” she replies. “Love you, Jenna.”
“Love you too.”
After disconnecting from my sister, I set my empty salad container aside intent on rinsing it out for the recycle bin. I get out my small purse mirror and check my teeth to make sure nothing green is hanging about. Satisfied I’m in the clear, I head into Brienne’s office.
She’s hanging up the light coat she’d been wearing over a beautiful formfitting navy dress with matching pumps.
As always, she’s the picture of elegance, style, and grit. The elegance and style are evident in her high-end wardrobe, impeccable makeup and hair, and the expensive jewelry. The grit is in her eyes and posture, underpinning her determination to take over this hockey organization in the wake of her brother’s untimely death, despite not knowing much about it.
I’ve come to admire Brienne Norcross quite a bit the last few days, astounded that this woman runs a massive conglomerate of businesses. The Norcross name is an empire so vast I’m not sure where it starts and if there’s an end.
Brienne sits behind her desk and points to a chair. I settle in with my iPad, ready to take notes. I gave up using a stylus after the first day as Brienne talks way too fast to keep up. The IT department gave me a detachable Bluetooth keyboard, perfect since I can type far faster than I can write.
“Please tell me you took more than ten minutes for lunch today.” The look she levels is one of a mother, not an employer.
I grin at her. “I took twenty. Talked to my sister while I ate a salad at my desk.”
Brienne settles back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other. “You’re an incredibly hard worker. Which is, of course, impressive to one such as me who works a good eighty-plus hours a week. But I don’t want you to wear yourself thin.”
“Not a chance. Because I’m also having fun, and my dad used to always tell me, if you love what you do—”
“—you never work a day in your life,” Brienne finishes. Her eyes sparkle as she says, “My dad taught me the same thing.”
A rush of affection hits me hard because this woman who runs an empire and who’s trying to build a new dynasty—with untold pressures upon her shoulders—is actually an open and genuine soul. It doesn’t mean she can’t be blunt and brutal in business decisions, as I have witnessed from some phone calls, but she’s truly an individual who likes relating to people on a personal level.
Brienne leans forward and clasps her hands on her desk. “I met with Teli Gibson a few days ago. He’s a documentary filmmaker.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “And he wants to do a documentary about the team?”
Brienne smiles. “Very astute. Yes, and I think it’s a great idea. I’ve run this past all the marketing folks, as well as legal, and we’re going to green-light the project. I want you to manage it from our end.”
“Excuse me?” There can be no mistaking the shocked look on my face or within my tone.
“Manage might not be quite the right word, but I want you to be the direct go-to person between the production company and the people they’ll be following and interviewing. The plan is to film for the remainder of the season and maybe the first few weeks of the off-season.”
She looks at me expectantly.
“Um… I’ve never done film work before. Certainly I have no experience with documentaries. My experience is in print news.”
“Yes,” Brienne says dryly and gives me a pointed look. “I’m well aware of your qualifications. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have hired you. But after observing you the last few days, I’m also keenly aware of your potential, and I believe you can do this.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. My pulse hammers in recognition of such a monumental task.
The stress of really putting myself out there to work with filmmakers and professional hockey players—am I about to hyperventilate?
“Jenna,” Brienne says calmly, and I focus on her. “I can pass this off to someone else if you don’t think—”
“No,” I exclaim, sitting up straight and lifting my chin in a burst of bravery. “I can do this.”
She beams at me with pride. “That’s what I want to hear. I’ll shuffle some of the projects you were going to be working on to others so this will be your sole focus, except for handling any media regarding the filming of the documentary. You’ll be in charge of that.”
“In charge of…”
“As in talking to the media,” she affirms, and I try to push down the panic. “Our marketing department will give you talking points, but I doubt it will get much attention. Probably local news and maybe ESPN.”