Chapter 16 Hillary
HILLARY
Hillary shut Murphy's door and made her way quickly to the elevator. This floor was all players and a couple of the trainers. She was on a different floor with all the coaches and other members of the organization that traveled with the team.
The buzz of anxiety shot through her as she reached the elevator and pushed the call button. She had a reason to come here. She had to return Murphy's jacket, she reminded herself.
She looked up as the numbers climbed, showing the elevator coming up to the floor. There was only one floor left when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Hillary?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to see Sasha making her way to the elevator. "What are you doing on the players' floor?" she asked.
Hillary stuttered before words started spewing out of her mouth, "Oh, well, it was cold earlier, and Murphy gave me his jacket.
I don't know why he did it. He's just that kind of guy .
. . ya know, the type to give you the shirt off his back.
Well, not his shirt, but his jacket. Anyway, I was just returning it.
Now I'm going to bed. That's it. What about you? Why are you here?"
Sasha cocked her head, taking her in with a curious expression. "I just ordered some room service with Conner while I scheduled tomorrow's posts," she said, still giving Hillary a tentative look.
"Didn’t you hire someone to do those things for you?" Hillary asked.
Sasha hummed as the elevator doors slid open. "I did, but I'm just having trouble turning stuff over."
"You should work on that," Hillary said as they stepped into the elevator, glad for the subject change.
"Hello pot, this is kettle," Sasha joked.
“What? I let people do their job,” Hillary protested.
“Yes. After they have proven themselves. And even then, you are very . . . ummm hands on, shall we say.”
Hillary felt the glare covering her face as they got on the elevator.
Sasha put her hands in the air. “You’re a great boss. I’m just saying you should understand I’m having trouble turning over the reins.”
Hillary took a deep sigh. She did understand that.
"And you hired a team to help enable your vision. You should use them."
"Have you been talking to Conner?"
Hillary chuckled. "No, but I gathered he's encouraging you to turn over the reins a little, too?"
"He is. And I will, I was just so used to doing everything on my own when I was an influencer."
"Well, we’re a team here, in more ways than one."
Sasha nodded. "I know, you’re right."
Her phone dinged in her pocket as she took it out. "Wow, it's already midnight. That's a little late to be taking Murphy his jacket back."
"Oh, this is me," Hillary said as she came to her door. "Goodnight, Sasha. I'll see you tomorrow. Remember to utilize your team," she said quickly as she slid her key card into the door.
Before Sasha could say anything else, she slid into her room and shut the door behind her. She thought she had been in the clear after Sasha didn't ask any questions about her rambling answer as to why she'd been on the player's floor, but of course, Sasha had picked up on it.
When Murphy brought up the idea of being in a committed relationship at the moment, she had almost considered it.
There was something about him that felt comforting, which is probably why she'd been a blubbering idiot in his room, but there was no way they could be in a relationship. What would they even have in common?
Sasha and Conner, they made sense. Sasha was a glamorous former influencer, and Conner was a steady, confident man.
Murphy was . . . Well, just thinking about him brought a smile to her face, which she quickly pushed away.
Murphy was golden. He deserved an equally golden life.
He deserved a doting partner with lots of golden children. He’d be a great father.
Hillary, on the other hand, was a prickly perfectionist. It served her well in her role of head of PR. She managed to make players behave and keep a positive spin on the organization. What could she possibly have in common with a golden retriever on ice ten years younger than her?
She needed to put a stop to it. She would put a stop to it. Yet as she settled into bed, his smile was the last thought she had.
The next morning, she woke up to her phone ringing. Sasha's contact lit up her screen.
"Hello," she said, trying to shake the sleep from her voice.
"Look outside."
Hillary got out of bed and pulled back the curtains. Everything was blanketed in what looked to be a good 10-12 inches of snow, and it was still coming down.
"I knew we should have left last night," she grumbled.
"The airports are closed down. We have an extra day in the schedule since we don't play Vancouver until the day after tomorrow, but it looks like we are grounded here."
"It's only November," Hillary groaned. "I'm not prepared for this level of snow yet."
"It's November in Calgary," Sasha reminded her.
"The players and the coaching staff are meeting after breakfast to figure out what to do. But it looks like we are snowed in, at least for the night."
"Yeah, let's meet at breakfast and game plan."
"Good," Sasha said. "I think this is a really great chance for some behind-the-scenes footage, maybe filming some get to know the player's video, or day in the life—" Sasha continued listing content ideas. All of which Hillary was sure would be fantastic ideas, but she had stopped listening.
There was a part of her that loved the snow.
A tiny part called to her and wanted to go play in the snow, but that was silly.
And honestly, that part was overshadowed by the part of her that hated disruptions to the schedule.
This would be a headache for the travel manager and the meetings they had scheduled in Vancouver.
She pulled up her calendar to see what needed to be moved around. But then something caught her eye against the backdrop of white. There was a blue hat and coat, followed by another. She would recognize it anywhere. She'd had the jacket last night.
A smile grew across her face as she watched Murphy and Wes out in the snow.
They threw snowballs at each other, and before she knew it, they were joined by two other players.
She knew Sasha would be sad to miss this, but then she saw a head of red hair out there with his phone trained on them.
It looked like Conner had it taken care of.
She should go get in the shower and get ready for the day. Yet she couldn't stop watching the guys out there in the snow. When was the last time she did something like that? She couldn't remember the last time she just let go and gave over to the joy of it all.
The gala.
That night, she had let herself live in the moment. She had let herself live her best life, repercussions be damned.
There was a blur of movement and laughter with the other players. He’d tackled Sven into a drift, white flakes dusting his dark hair, his grin wide and unguarded. Something inside her had cracked—bittersweet and dangerous.
They were too different. He was all beginnings and open roads. She was . . . not.
She stayed at the window until Murphy had gone in. There was a part of her that wondered what it would look like to give things a go with him. One thing she knew was that she would smile every single day.
After getting ready, she made her way to the banquet hall. The organization had turned it into a makeshift meeting room with tables pushed together, staff and players scattered in little groups, and a half-hearted buffet steaming against one wall.
Hillary tucked her phone into her blazer pocket, her call about snow-day filming opportunities still buzzing in her mind. She’d been efficient, all business, just the way she liked it.
“Morning,” Sasha said as Hillary slid into a seat next to her with her camera already out to film some behind-the-scenes content.
“Morning. Let’s keep the players engaged—snow or no snow, we can spin this as bonding content,” Hillary replied. Crisp. Controlled.
And then Murphy walked in.
He was still a little damp from outside, cheeks pink from the cold, hair messy in a way that made him look even younger.
He carried two plates from the buffet, balancing them like he’d done it a hundred times, and scanned the room.
His eyes found hers instantly, brightening in a way that was entirely too obvious.
Hillary’s stomach twisted. She looked away, focusing on her muffin as if it required all her concentration.
“What a wonderful morning,” Murphy said as he made his way over to her table. He plopped into the chair beside her, already stealing one of the sausages off his own plate. Around them, conversation buzzed, but it felt like everyone had gone quiet, watching.
Hillary cleared her throat. “We’ll be filming some team content later. Snowball fights, maybe a sledding challenge. Sasha will organize it.”
Murphy leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered. “Sounds fun. Want me to pull you on a sled?”
Her eyes snapped to him. Teasing, warm, just between them. Hillary’s pulse jumped. She forced her lips into a tight smile. “I’m clearly not included in player bonding.”
When Hillary's gaze met Sasha's, she would swear she could see the gears turning. Murphy was getting way too comfortable around her.
As the afternoon went on, some of the players relaxed and played poker while others had been filmed doing snow activities. Sasha was thrilled. This was going to make fantastic content. When everyone was finishing up lunch, Coach Wagner and Conner came into the room and got everyone's attention.
"I hope you all enjoyed a little downtime today. We’re leaving in the morning and headed to Vancouver, but we thought we might have a nice team dinner at the restaurant a block down the road," said Coach Wagner.
"And after that," Conner said, grinning ear to ear. "Karaoke."
Half the team groaned, and the other half cheered.
"Haven't we all seen you sing 'Simply the Best' enough?" Cash groaned.
Conner made his way over to their table as the low din of voices got back to their conversations after the announcement.
"You must be Happy," Sasha said as Conner joined them and kissed her on the cheek.
"A fancy steak dinner followed by Karaoke? Is there anything better? You guys are coming, right?" he asked.
"Oh, I—"
"Of course, we wouldn't miss it," Sasha said before Hillary could protest.
Once Conner and Sasha were lost in conversation, Hillary scanned the room. She was not looking for Murphy, but still her gaze zeroed in on him. He was already looking at her with a grin.
What was she going to do? She would be lying if she said there wasn't a small part of her that thought about what it would be like to be with someone like Murphy. She knew he would keep her laughing and orgasming, but she also knew he would take care of her.
That thought pulled her up short. How could she be so certain that he would take care of her?
Shouldn't she be worried that she would have to take care of him?
Don't most women end up taking care of the men of appropriate age they dated?
That was why she didn't date much. She didn't have the time or desire to take care of anyone.
Her phone dinged on the table.
Sydney - Grandma's coming home today
Hillary - That's good. I told you it would all work out.
She slipped her phone back into her pocket and stood. "If you'll excuse me. I think I'm going to head back up to my room for a bit."
Sasha's all too perceptive eyes gave her a questioning look. "Okay, I'll see you at dinner if I don't before."
Hillary stepped into the elevator lobby, smoothing her blazer and pressing the call button. A burst of laughter echoed down the hallway, and a second later Murphy appeared with two of the younger players at his side.
“Man, I haven’t played outside like that in years,” one of them said.
“Snowball MVP right here,” the other added, jerking his thumb toward Murphy.
Murphy only grinned, easy and bright, but Hillary felt the weight of his gaze land squarely on her. Her pulse jumped. She clasped her hands in front of her, careful to keep her expression smooth.
The group reached the elevator just as the doors slid open.
They all stepped inside together, shoulder to shoulder.
The guys chattered about sledding clips Sasha had filmed, about how funny Conner was going to be at karaoke tonight.
Murphy laughed along with them, his voice warm and playful, but his attention kept circling back to her.
Hillary felt it like a touch. Something about it felt steady, right, like gravity pulling her closer. But she shoved that thought down hard.
“You coming tonight?” Murphy asked suddenly, looking straight at her.
Hillary gave him a polite smile, the kind she wore at every press conference. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
The elevator dinged at her floor. She stepped forward as the doors opened. Behind her, the guys were still talking, their laughter spilling into the hall. She glanced back just once—just enough to catch Murphy’s grin. And then, as the doors slid shut between them, he winked.
Hillary’s breath caught. She turned briskly on her heel, heels sinking into the carpeted hall. Professional. Untouchable. Absolutely fine.
So why did she feel anything but?