Chapter 14
. . .
Drew
On a yawn, I sit up in bed and switch off the alarm, reminding me that I have to be in the office in less than an hour.
Next, I grab my cell from its charging pad on the nightstand and begin scrolling. Like so many people these days, I have a bad habit of checking my phone before I’ve tuned in to my immediate surroundings.
With nothing of note on Instagram, I close the app and check my emails, sitting up straighter when I find one marked as urgent from my boss and sent over an hour ago.
From: Colton Davis
To: Drew Callaghan
Subject: URGENT
Drew,
Have you spoken with Will? What the hell did he post on X last night?!
Colton
Opening Will’s account, I’m hit with thousands of notifications, more rolling in every few seconds.
The first thing my tired brain can register is the comments replying to whatever he posted, and nearly all of them ask the same thing: Spill the tea, Will. Which teammate is the dick?
Shaky fingers navigate to Will’s profile, and when I see the idiotic post he made around eight hours ago, the comments make sense.
I want to thank everyone who was involved in making tonight’s gala so successful, apart from my dickhead teammate.
All the blood drains from my face. I know precisely which teammate he’s referring to. The one who kindly gave me a ride home last night.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
The first thing I do is delete the post, even though I know it’ll make no difference since hundreds—maybe even thousands—of screenshots have been taken by now. Still, I hold out a sliver of hope that Repeet hasn’t seen it yet, along with Tristan.
Taking a deep breath, I hit Call on Will’s contact, anger rolling through me with every ring that goes unanswered.
Eventually, I’m connected to his voicemail, and I close my eyes and swallow when the beep sounds, knowing if I don’t maintain a modicum of professionalism, then we’re both totally fucked.
“So, I just woke up to an absolute shitstorm on social media and a panicked email from Colton. You should know that I have deleted the post you made last night, and now I’ll be heading into the office to embark on what will likely be the worst day of my working life to date.
Call me so we can go over our crisis management plan.
” I pull the phone from my ear and can’t help adding the next sentence, which I’ll likely regret in a few hours.
“And for the record, the only dick I see around here is you.”
A half hour later, with zero caffeine running through my veins and a headache pounding in my ears, I sit across from a stony-faced Colton.
Reading him has never been an issue for me since he always wears his heart on his sleeve, but today, he’s giving nothing away.
“Have you spoken with Will yet?” he asks in a voice that matches his demeanor.
I shake my head and flip my cell over on the table.
Still no response to my call.
“I think he has morning skate, so he’ll probably get back to me after that. He was likely already on the ice when I called.”
Colton’s lips twist in thought. “Did you have any idea that he planned to make that post last night?”
I almost feel insulted that he would think there was a world where I’d ever be okay with what Will said.
“No,” I simply reply. “But when he listens to my voicemail, he’ll be in zero doubt over my thoughts on it. Especially after Repeet reopened discussions last night.”
He hangs his head and groans out a disbelieving sound. “How long was the post active before you deleted it?”
“Eight hours.”
I watch the top of his head as he nods once. “And do you have any idea which teammate he was referring to?”
I’m going to throttle William Jones when I next see him. Not only has he thrown us both into the metaphorical equivalent of a PR lion’s den, but I also now have to explain why—and likely how—I know the teammate in question is Tristan Vaughn.
“Drew?” Colton presses.
I cross my legs under the table and draw a deep breath into my lungs. Tristan isn’t a client of First Line PR, but I know Colton is keen to get him on board. The last thing I want is for my boss to think that I’m involved with the Rogues forward.
“The atmosphere between Will and Tristan appeared frosty last night.”
Colton looks perplexed. “Do you know why?”
The temptation to shrug and deny any knowledge is strong. However, lying has never been in my wheelhouse and especially not when it comes to the guy who granted me my first big career break.
I give Colton a tentative glance, still unable to get a read on his overall mood.
“After the auction, Tristan asked me to dance. And after that, I spoke with Kevin Rogers from Repeet, and Will offered to drop me home when the night was almost over.”
Colton’s body language turns uneasy.
“I’d already accepted a ride from Tristan, and for some reason, that didn’t sit well with Will. It felt like he didn’t trust him, and when I pointed out that Tristan seemed like a nice guy …” I trail off, feeling like this whole thing is ridiculous.
“Keep going,” Colton drawls.
I sigh and add, “Will cut me off, insisting that Tristan wasn’t a decent person.
I couldn’t understand why he was in a shitty mood, especially after the conversation we just had with Kevin, but I didn’t hang around to find out.
I was tired, and that’s all Tristan’s offer was—a ride home and nothing more. ”
My boss visibly deflates, and I feel my cheeks heat.
“Rule number one, Drew: Never leave a disgruntled client unattended, especially not a trigger-happy one like Will Jones.”
I nod my understanding, something tugging in my chest when I think about the list of rules I handed Will back when we weren’t in the middle of a shitstorm.
“I’m going to work on a statement—it will be simple and to the point—and you can post it on Will’s social media.”
“I can put something together myself,” I offer.
Colton shakes his head and points to my cell. “Your priority is getting ahold of your client and figuring out his motivations behind the original post.”
The headache I was nursing begins to throb harder. “I’m sorry if I’ve let you down.”
A warm chuckle vibrates in his chest, and hope blooms in mine. Maybe I haven’t totally screwed everything up.
“We all make mistakes, Drew, and I’m willing to bet that Will is regretting his own right about now. I know you have a good working relationship with him.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “Did Will make any donations to the charity?”
The unexpected tingles I felt when Will took my hand in the car resurface. “Yes. A very large donation before the gala began.”
Colton smiles. “All right, that’s good news at least. Leave the statement with me, and let’s try and keep this whole thing as low profile as possible.
The dust will settle quickly on this one, I’m sure.
It’s important that Tristan’s name is never revealed as the teammate Will took issue with.
The team’s general manager is leaving this one solely in our hands to sort out. ”
I stand from my chair and close my laptop, picking up my phone and pocketing it into the black dress pants I threw on in a hurry this morning. “Other than the statement, I plan to halt all posts on Will’s socials for at least a few days.”
He nods, and I make my way to the door, not stopping to look back at Colton. The last thing I need is for him to see the tears forming in my eyes.
I’m more than capable of doing this job, and I’m going to prove it to him over the next twenty-four hours.