Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
LUKE
When I walk into the boardroom, I wince at the sight in front of me. Every fucking chair is filled except for one. Mine. And I’m not even late. It’s just they were here before me.
Hell, they’ve probably been devising plans and going over my contract for hours while I peacefully slept with no fucking clue of the shitstorm that was brewing.
Instead of saying something smart-assed, I walk into the room silently and take the only empty seat. Sinking down, I place my palms on the cool table and wait for the execution. Because there is no way it’s not coming. The vibe in this room is everything I need to know. I’m fucking done for.
I inhale through my nose and exhale out of my mouth, attempting to take cleansing breaths to keep me from telling everyone to fuck themselves before I’ve even heard what the actual verdict is.
“You’re one of our best players,” a voice announces.
Opening my eyes, I glance over to the owner of the team. He’s dressed down today, obviously not in the office for business, in just a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He’s also wearing a Cleveland Vortex ball cap, and I feel guilty as fuck for causing this much chaos.
Holding my breath, I wait for the but before he continues. “I’ve already been updated on the status of the girl in the photo and her relation to you. Seems as though this is something that has been blown completely out of proportion,” he says.
My breath comes out in an audible whoosh at his words. Because that’s exactly what it is. A misunderstanding that’s been blown out of proportion. Grossly out of proportion. I’m glad he sees it that way, unlike the rest of the world at the moment.
“That being said,” he continues.
I know the blood drains from my face because my heart stops beating in my chest. I don’t know what to say, what to do. Whatever control I had over my feelings, it’s fucking gone because I feel absolutely helpless.
If my career is over, so will my life.
Hockey is all I know.
It is who I am.
I barely passed my GED test, and I have zero college education. I have nothing but hockey. If this is taken from me, I don’t know what I’ll do. It’s been the only thing I’ve known since I was a kid.
Nothing exists outside of the rink.
The panic that fills my body is palpable. My leg starts shaking uncontrollably, and my knee bobs up and down beneath the table as a million scenarios race through my head, none of them with a happy ending.
“This is where I come in,” Danica says.
She’s the team’s publicist, and my spine straightens as I wait for her proposal. I’ll do anything to save my career—anything at all.
“You’re going to be seen with another woman publicly. There are some games coming up, and the press will be there. You’ll answer their questions with the new woman on your arm. When you’re asked about your sister, you just say she’s not related to you and brush it off.”
Placing my hands flat on the table, I let the cool, smooth surface warm beneath my touch before I speak. It’s my way of calming myself down, but it doesn’t work. Because this doesn’t work, so I decide to say just that.
“That doesn’t work for me,” I simply state.
She arches a brow in my direction, and I expect her to tell me what I’m going to do and how I’m going to do it, but she doesn’t. At least not directly. Instead, she leans back in her chair and crosses one knee over the other.
“Do tell, Luke, what do you want to do, and how do you think it will play out?”
Fuck.
There’s nothing like feeling you’re trapped in a goddamn corner because that’s exactly how I feel right now.