33. Harbor
HARBOR
I ’ve walked into press rooms full of angry reporters. Handled playoff scandals, trade leaks—even the time a player ‘accidentally’ stole a golf cart. But nothing’s ever rattled me like this team meeting.
This time, it’s not just the team’s reputation on the line—it’s mine too.
Typically, I’m calm. Polished. The woman with a plan.
But not today.
Not after staying up all night, drafting holding statements, press releases, managing the buzzy onslaught of social media.
And especially not after Weston sidelined me with his declaration this morning.
I love you, Hurricane.
Hearing him say those words left me reeling.
Not because I don’t love him back.
I do, with every fiber of my being. But it all feels so risky, with everything on the line.
His voice echoes through my head as I walk into the chilly conference room. Worried eyes trained on me, waiting for my personal brand of slick PR advice. I take my seat toward the front as Coach Keller commands the podium.
“As you all have most likely heard, Bennett Steele’s benched until the legal charges are sorted and the league decides what action, if any, they’ll be taking.
None of that’s under my purview, nor my jurisdiction.
I’m here to coach the team and win games.
We’ll be resuming business as usual, starting with practice Monday morning.
Stay focused on training and stay out of trouble. ”
With that, he stalks back to his seat and Prince takes the floor.
“The last twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind.” His eyes scour the room, fast and frantic. Like he’s had three too many cups of coffee. “We’re working on holding things together, clearing Bennett’s name, and making sure justice prevails. Harbor?”
Prince waves me up to the podium and I rise on shaky legs, trying to hide the tremor in my hands.
You don’t have what it takes to be in this world, Harbor. Get out and let the professionals handle it.
I shove that thought down and step up to the podium, clearing my throat. My vision blurs for a terrifying second and I panic. Everyone’s watching, waiting. My dad’s voice screams in my head. Weston’s love swirls around me, hanging in the air.
What if I screw this up? What if this is the moment everyone realizes I’m a fraud and I don’t belong here?
I blink hard. Once, twice.
“Morning.” I glance around the room at the faces of the team I so desperately believe in and want to save.
The team I royally fucked over last night .
By being in that video in the first place. Being a PR consultant who became the scandal instead of managing it.
I can’t meet Weston’s eye. The way he’s gazing at me from across the room, like I hung the damn moon and polished the freaking stars. When we both know that’s so far from the truth it’s comical.
You’re ruining the Hayes name.
Setting my notes on the conference table, I stare straight ahead and deliver the speech I practiced thirty-four times in my hotel room.
“I know this week’s been a lot. From the successful youth clinic to the events of the weekend. There’s been noise, speculation, and a few headlines we didn’t ask for.”
I take a breath, scanning the room. Prince thrums his fingers on the table and Coach Keller’s scowling at me like I’m a wad of gum stuck to the bottom of his sneaker.
“I won’t sugarcoat it. The footage looks bad. But what’s in the video doesn’t tell the whole story, and I have faith the truth will prevail. We’re working with legal to make certain the context is fully understood.
“What I need from all of you right now is simple: silence. Stay focused. Stay professional. Don’t post, don’t share, don’t comment. If the media asks you any questions, your answer is ‘We’re focused on hockey and supporting our teammates.’ Full stop.”
Ford locks eyes with me and I swallow hard over the lump in my throat before continuing.
“No one wants distractions. Least of all me. My job is to protect this team’s reputation. And that hasn’t changed—not after this weekend, not ever. You’ve worked your asses off this off-season. Let’s not let thirty seconds of negative viral video derail months of preparation.”
Someone in the back mutters, “PR spin. ”
Just loud enough for me to hear. A few heads nod, and my stomach turns. These are my guys—the ones I’ve been working my ass off to protect—and they’re questioning whether I’m the liability Prince warned me about.
“I was there. I saw what happened. I know things got heated, and I know how fast the internet jumps to conclusions. But we’re not going to play that game. We’re going to control the story—not react to it.”
A few of the guys nod, their faces relaxing. Prince stops thrumming and Coach Keller shifts in his seat.
Everything’s under control.
“Questions?” I glance around the room, every eye pinned on me.
Morrison raises his hand. “So what do I tell my sponsors? One of them DM’d me this morning. Do we just act like nothing happened?”
“Great question…” I pause, twisting my bracelets. “You can tell them the matter’s being handled. Nothing to worry about.”
“Cool.” He tips his chin at me, and I shove down the sick feeling in my stomach.
None of these guys deserve this. They’re out there busting their asses and one stupid video could tank everything for them. Their sponsors, their livelihood.
“Anything else?” I glance around the room, checking for questions. No one else raises their hand, so I step away from the podium and Keller takes my spot.
“Practice Monday morning, seven sharp. Don’t be late.” Then he stalks out of the conference room without another word.
Players file out, some of them in hushed conversation. No one stops to talk to me, a few shooting me sideways glances .
Cheeks burning, I act like I don’t notice.
“Harbor—” Tori’s at my side, her French-manicured hand on my elbow. My mouth goes dry, pulse rate instantly skyrocketing.
“Hey…”
“Are you okay?”
Her eyes search mine. Woman to woman, for one brief second, and I nod.
“I’m fine.”
“Good. You did your job. But there’s more to the clean-up, as I’m sure you know.”
I swallow, my lips pinched in a tight line.
“Sponsors are asking Daddy pointed questions. About team leadership and whether management can control the situation. I’d hate to see careers destroyed over poor judgment.”
Straightening my shoulders, I resist the urge to crumple under her pointed stare.
“Understood.”
“Have a great day.”
Then she spins and exits the room, her stilettos clicking on the linoleum floor.
Right behind her is Prince.
“Good speech. Now let’s deliver.”
His tone’s firm, clipped. And I’ve never felt more judged in my entire life.
“Absolutely, sir. I’m on it.”
He smacks my shoulder, shooting me a tight smile. “You’re a Hayes. I’m sure you are.”
I try not to flinch as he brings up my father.
You’re not worthy of the Hayes name.
Once the room’s clear, I gather my notes and bolt for the safety of my office. Anywhere but here .
“Harbor…”
Weston’s leaning against the wall in the hallway. His deep voice echoes off the cinder block walls, stopping me in my tracks. I tighten my grip on the papers in my hand.
“You were incredible in there.” His ocean blue eyes flick over me and my throat constricts.
“Thanks.”
Reaching out, he grips my elbow and I shrink away. I don’t need anyone seeing us like this.
Too close.
Compromised.
“You sure you’re okay? You don’t have to carry all of it alone, you know.” Small crinkles of worry crease around his eyes, and my chest aches. I want to tell him the truth, but there’s too much on the line.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Talk later.”
The lie burns like acid in my mouth. Hurt flashes across his face and my heart aches. I want to be honest with him. To tell him how I feel, that I’m crazy about him.
But I know that’s the best way to burn both of our worlds down to the ground.
Instead, I lock my lips together and stride away.
I’ve already fucked up too many lives as it is. I can’t drag him down with me—not when I’m drowning.
Because the problem with spin is, eventually, it spirals out of control.