12. Monroe
TWELVE
MONROE
THE MAN IS SO DOWNBAD.
The puck snapped loose from Hogan’s stick, cutting clean across the ice to where Jimenez muscled through two Nashville players. He sent it Thatcher’s way, who was positioned in front of the cage.
Only seconds passed, but it felt like time stood still.
The puck launched off Thatcher’s stick, grazing past the goalie’s glove, and slammed into the back of the net. Upper left corner.
The game tape stopped on the screen. The other three still played sports news and highlights.
One even mentioned the dinner in two days.
I scrubbed a hand down my face as I leaned back in my chair.
I didn’t need to watch the film. Not really.
That moment had burned into my psyche. We’d clutched the win with ten seconds to the final buzzer.
Fucking Stanley Cup winners.
“If you let people see more of that smile, you’d make both our lives easier.”
I sat up at the sound of Graciella’s voice. She leaned against the frame of my office doorway, arms crossed under her chest.
Hot pink.
That was today’s nail color. Hadn’t quite figured out if there was a pattern to when they changed or if the determining factor was how much polish she’d chipped off.
“There a reason you’re here?”
The question came out harsher than intended.
“Truth is…”
She crossed the room, her steps quiet on the short carpet.
Those hot-pink nails splayed across the wooden desk top, a hint of tawny skin teasing where her shirt hung open at her collarbone from bending over.
The position had me imagining what she’d look like from behind, and I blinked to try to chase the image away.
“I’m obsessed with you, Monroe,” Graciella said, looking at me with doe eyes and a pouty mouth.
What the hell? My heart thrashed in my chest so hard I was sure she’d hear it.
“I…uh…” No, words came to mind, my brain broken from her confession.
Her sinful mouth broke out into a huge smile. Pale pink tongue wetting the pillowy cushions. Fuck.
“God, I wish you could see your face right now.” She laughed, the sound vivid and bright in my normally quiet office.
She plopped into the armchair behind her, pulling her legging-clad legs up onto the cushion with her.
“Although I’m a little insulted that you looked like you were about to throw up. ”
Joke. She was joking.
My chest tightened, my mouth struggling to create enough moisture to respond verbally. The relief I should have felt was decidedly absent. Instead, it was like a rock dropped into my stomach.
“You came to my work just to annoy me?” I finally bit out, ignoring the pang of disappointment.
“Not the only reason. I also came because we start operation ‘Monroe speaks in sentences to the public’ today.” She looked at her phone, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.
The overhead lighting shone off where she twirled the gold ring on her pointer with her thumb.
“Right now, actually. So come on, out of your chair.”
“What do you mean right now?” I still stood for some reason, despite everything in my mind screaming at me not to give in to her demands. “What kind of PR person are you? Aren’t you supposed to give your client a heads-up? Or, I don’t know, run this shit by me?”
Graciella was already halfway to the door, a smug smirk on her far-too-distracting face. “Not when your client is a stubborn man who does so much better at following directions when you spring things on him.”
“Oh, you mean when you manipulate him?”
She winked. “Does it matter, Monroe? We both know you’re going to follow me anyway,” she called, disappearing down the hall.
Fuck.
She was right.
The air shifted, turning cold and crisp the closer we got to the practice rink. Skates slicing against ice melded with the occasional whistle and chatter from the youth practices happening at one of the five rinks our facility had.
“Where are you going?” I called after Graciella’s retreating back, but all she did was shoot a smile over her shoulder as I chased after her.
Up ahead, I could hear commotion, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.
“Graciella.” I lunged forward, gripping her shoulder before we reached the end of the hall. “I don’t like not knowing things. If we’re going to work together, then you need to talk to me,” I said, spinning her around.
I couldn’t decipher the look she gave me.
“Okay, you’re right.” Her throat bobbed, and annoyingly, I found myself transfixed by the pulse pounding at her collarbone. “You’re going to be speaking to San Jose State’s hockey team.” She dragged her lip between her teeth, eyes darting away. “Their women’s team.”
I reared back, surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because that was the reaction I was hoping to avoid.” She threw her arms in the air.
“These girls deserve to be looked at as serious athletes, too. What better way to get eyes on their program than an article about their time with a Stanley Cup-winning coach? They are underfunded and overlooked and—”
“Graciella.” I tipped her chin, keeping my fingers there a second longer than needed before dropping my hand to my side. “Of course they’re serious athletes who deserve attention.”
Her brows pulled together in the middle. “Wait, that growl wasn’t because it’s the women’s team and not the men’s?”
Unable to resist, I rubbed away the two little lines marring her forehead. “No, Graciella. The growl was because you didn’t just tell me about it. I’d have liked to be more prepared to speak with them.”
Her cheeks deepened in color, an “Oh” falling from her lips.
Apparently, I was shit at getting my point across with my tone of voice and words.
“Listen, as a dad to a little girl, I want nothin’ more than to see women kick ass at everything.
” My chest tightened, the same way it did every time I thought about the shit Goldie would deal with that I never had to as a man.
“You forget, I hired the first female Strength and Conditioning Coach, and it was because your cousin was fucking good at her job. Gender had nothin’ to do with it.
Hockey is for everyone, regardless of background. ”
I stepped back, realizing how close we’d drifted.
How my hands wanted to reach for hers.
The corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re a good man, you know that, Monroe?”
I shrugged, like I was unaffected by the affection in her words, but they’d zapped straight to my chest, making it puff out with pride.
I needed to get out of this hallway with her before I showed her how much they affected me.
“Let’s go give those ladies the time and resources they deserve.”