Chapter 6
Grace
My hands shook as Sebastian disappeared into the crowd, leaving a faint trace of cologne in his wake.
The delicious mixture of pine and citrus filled my head with thoughts that were undoubtedly foolish to be having about him.
For a few seconds, I seemed to forget where I was and the reason I was here.
Focus on the plan, I reminded myself, eyes surveying the room for my teammate.
Pearson’s boyfriend had pulled her away to discuss something with his parents nearly twenty minutes ago.
Slowly, I headed toward the other end of the ballroom, searching for a hint of dark purple amongst the many gowns.
After another few sweeps of the crowd, I landed on her familiar form.
Pearson was already watching me, and, when our eyes connected, she gave me a firm nod.
It was now or never.
There was a long booth to the right of the stage covered in computer monitors and cords.
As I approached it, someone clinked their glass with a utensil, effectively hushing all conversations.
A guy wearing large headphones and thick glasses looked up from behind the screen of a laptop.
I gave him a shy smile and nodded toward the stage.
“I know they have a little presentation planned, but I have a few extra slides. I’m the honoree’s niece, and we wanted to surprise him with some special feedback about how much his generous donation has helped the children of this community. ”
Glasses guy looked down at his computer, then back up to me. To our right, Coach Dawson was clambering onto the stage with a drink in his hand.
“Do you have the slides with you?” he asked.
I nodded my head and reached into my cleavage to pull out the flash drive, holding eye contact with him the entire time. He gulped slowly as he accepted the small device.
“I’ll let you know when to share it, okay?”
After a few slow blinks he nodded and then dragged his attention back to the screen. The Ravens’ coach cleared his throat and started speaking.
“Hi, everyone. I need a few moments of your time before we get back to the drinking and dancing. First, thank you for attending another Ravens Gala. We’re here to raise money for this incredible team of young men and to honor the man responsible for bringing this program to new heights.
As a reminder, please don’t forget to check out the silent auction items at the back of the room.
And now, I’d like to give a special thanks to the man of the hour himself, Jerome DuLane. ”
The screen behind Coach Dawson lit up with a beautiful shot of DuLane Arena. As he continued to sing praises for DuLane’s donation, the presentation filtered through different photos of the facility.
“Sir, your generous support for this team cannot be understated. DuLane Arena is one of the best hockey facilities in this country, and in the last five years, it’s helped bring some of the best hockey players to this school.”
Dawson droned on for another five minutes, eventually pulling an elderly Mr. DuLane up on the stage to share his own words.
My pulse raced as the presentation continued, flashing through photos of the facility, showing off all the resources the men had access to.
Finally, after another reminder for people to participate in the silent auction, Dawson wished the group a good night.
The moment he stepped off the stage, I swooped in.
My only shot was the element of surprise.
A bright light beamed down on me as I nodded toward the booth, signaling to the AV guy to load my slides. I made my way slowly to the podium and gripped the microphone tightly between my hands. Not everyone was paying attention, so I cleared my throat into the microphone.
“Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt. This will be quick. My name is Grace, and I play for the women’s hockey team at Dallard University.”
Thankfully, the stage lights made it impossible for me to see most of the faces in the crowd.
Hands shaking, I glanced back at the screen to check that my slides were up.
With that final confirmation, I took a deep breath, turned back around, secured the slide advancer in my right hand, and started speaking.
“I’m so impressed with the resources this program has to offer, and I wanted to take this opportunity to praise Mr. DuLane and the other generous supporters who helped make this life-changing facility possible.”
I clicked through several slides of the arena that had already been shown in the previous presentation.
“Hockey is an incredible sport, and everyone competing at this level deserves access to a safe environment that helps foster great athletes. DuLane Arena offers this and more to the men who play for the Dallard Ravens.”
I paused for a moment, heart thumping against my chest in anticipation. Somewhere out in the crowd, Pearson was doing her best to inconspicuously record my speech.
“Meanwhile, the female hockey players at DU are forced to play in a run-down, out-of-date facility that is nearly falling apart.”
My words rang out, and an even deeper silence fell over the crowd. I advanced the slide again, bringing up photos of our current practice facility.
“The training equipment is old, the facility can barely regulate temperature enough to keep the rink frozen, and it’s located inconveniently far from the student athlete housing.”
I could see someone making their way to the stage and knew my time was up. With a deep breath, I gripped the microphone tightly and shared my parting statement.
“So again, please take a moment to honor Jerome DuLane for his generous donation to the men’s hockey team. As we women work under worse conditions to gain our fourth national title, the men have all the resources they need to acquire their second.”
A man was at my side, pulling me away from the podium while simultaneously apologizing into the microphone.
Adrenaline pumped through my body as I was escorted off the stage.
The ballroom and the lobby passed by in a blur, and before I knew it, I was being pushed out the front door and into the hotel parking lot.
Triumph pulsed through my veins, even as I stumbled forward and nearly face-planted into the pavement.
“What in the hell were you thinking, Ms. Gillman?” The words were spat with utter fury.
I righted myself and turned to face my aggressive escort. DU’s athletic director loomed over me in a tall wall of muscle and hardened features. Mr. Castillo looked just about ready to flay me alive, though the fact that he knew my last name—knew exactly who I was—was far more concerning.
“Yes, I know who you are. I’m the one who approved your full-ride here,” he said, “and I’m the one who has the power to take it away.”
A small voice in the back of my head warned me to be cautious, but my heart was leading tonight. There was still too much adrenaline pumping through my veins to act rationally.
“Nothing I said up there was a lie,” I told him. “I didn’t exaggerate the situation or spread any false information.”
I waited for him to set me straight, to tell me right then and there that I was being kicked out, but he didn’t.
Instead, a loud, shrill sound came from his pocket.
Castillo extracted his phone from his dress pants and answered the call with a gruff “What?” before swinging around and stomping toward the entrance.
He paused in the threshold to look over his shoulder.
“You will go home and not speak a word about this to anyone. Tomorrow, you’ll receive an email with the date and time for a meeting with me where we will discuss your future at this school. Right now, I have to clean up your mess.”
All the fight left my body as he disappeared into the hotel.
I stood in silence, the truth of what I’d done settling over me slowly, my adrenaline waning.
Move, I commanded, eventually managing to shake myself out of a stupor.
I stumbled through the parking lot with only one goal: get the hell away from here as fast as I could.
A wave of changing emotions washed over me like fleeting dream: there one moment, gone the next.
Disbelief shifted to elation, which quickly morphed into an overwhelming sense of dread.
I made it nearly four blocks before the pain in my feet could no longer be ignored.
All at once the shock wore off, a penetrating cold settling over me.
I only managed a few more steps before I had to lean against a lamppost to remove my heels.
After another couple of blocks, my feet were numb.
Why didn’t I call Lydia to pick me up? It was the first sane thought I’d had in the last half hour, one that brought me to an abrupt stop as I pulled my phone from the small clutch in my left hand.
At the same moment, a pair of blinding headlights flooded the street.
I squinted against the light as a car came to a screeching stop beside me, stumbling back several steps as the door swung open and a tall figure exited the vehicle.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” demanded a whiskey-smooth voice.
Sebastian Evans ate up the space between us in three long strides, the light from his car casting shadows along the side of his jaw and under his cheekbones. He was beautiful and terrifying, all intensity and sharp lines.
“I can’t do this with you right now.” I tried to move around Sebastian, but he stepped into my path and placed both of his hands on my shoulders. The shock of his touch was like a volcanic eruption, heat rushing over my skin and spreading down my arms in a blazing trail of fire.
“You’re freezing.” There was a touch of concern in his voice, which was surprising enough to jolt my brain into gear, and I flinched away from the contact.
That was when I realized how cold I really was. Have my teeth been chattering this whole time?