Chapter 27
HILLARY
The first Monday back, Hillary dropped into her chair and opened her inbox.
Right at the top sat a flagged message from Sasha. Just an update on the state of things.
Hillary clicked it open.
Her screen filled with screenshots with comments, gifs, even fan accounts that had popped up over the last week. All centered on one person.
Murphy.
Her pulse kicked up as she scrolled.
Some were playful, like clips of him dancing at the concert, edits of his big grin with sparkles added in.
So many of the damn shirt raises showing his abs.
Fan accounts were calling him “hockey’s golden retriever.
” But many of them had an edge. Threads about his dimples, his thighs, his purity.
Comments dripping with innuendo, how badly they wanted to “ruin him,” how many women were wanting to ‘corrupt him’.
Hillary’s throat went dry.
Because the worst part was that she agreed.
Murphy was that good. Too good. Earnest, open, uncomplicated in a way that made people fall in love with him instantly. It wasn’t just the internet seeing him as pure, bright, and unspoiled. That was who he was.
The thought made her stomach twist. She pictured the way he looked at her when they were alone, how easily he laughed, how warm he was when he touched her. She pictured that same light dimming because of her. Because she was older, jaded, too serious, too much of a weight for him to carry.
What if she were the one who clipped his wings?
She pressed her hands to her temples, shutting her eyes.
Murphy deserved to be all the things the world saw in him. He was joyful, uncomplicated, a golden retriever in human form.
And the last thing she wanted was to be the one who taught him otherwise.
There was a knock at her door before it opened, and Sasha poked her head in.
“Did you get my email?”
“I did,” Hillary said as she took a sip from her coffee.
“I asked Murphy to come and talk to us about this. He says he’s okay, but I would really like to formulate a strategy to maybe keep him out of the spotlight for a while. Maybe the break will be good and let all this die down.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” and there he was.
He took in Sasha and Hillary and the general sense of unease in the room as he entered. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Hillary about the internet stuff.”
He bit his lip and looked between them.
“I’m okay. I mostly just ignore it. As long as it’s not an issue for the organization . . . or umm, you guys,” he said, flicking his gaze over to Hillary. “I'm good.”
“Okay, we are thinking we might pull you back from media for a few games,” Sasha said.
“I’ll try my best to be as boring as possible.”
Sasha gave an amused chuckle, “It’s appreciated.”
“Did you guys need anything else?” he asked.
“Not at the moment, but please, if anything out of the ordinary happens, please check in,” Sasha answered.
“Of course,” he said as he turned to head out the door.
“Murphy,” his name was out of her mouth before she even knew she said it.
He turned, and their eyes locked. She needed to say something, but no words would come out. She cleared her throat, digging for any level of professionalism. “If you need any help dealing with this, please reach out.”
That was what she said. After all, it was her idea of a North Star crossover that had put him in this situation. She wasn’t really sure what was her place to say. The lines were blurred, and her walls were down.
“I will.”
He turned to leave, and a part of her wanted to call him back just to hug him. But Sasha was here, and this was her job. What a mess.
Once she was alone in her office, she closed her eyes, pulling in a deep breath. This needed to end. It had been a bad idea at the gala, a bad idea at the farmer’s market, and in Calgary. She needed to put a stop to the Murphy roller coaster once and for all.