3. Eric
Chapter three
Eric
T he morning light filters through the kitchen window, casting a golden glow over the granite countertops. I’m up early, and my mind is in fight mode for my first day with the new team. We’ll scrimmage this morning and then have a real practice and workout session after.
But before that, I have to meet with the team owner. I’m hoping that goes quickly. I’m an athlete, not a business guy, so meetings tend to feel a bit boring to me.
Last night was complicated. I wasn’t expecting to share a house with her , with Jessica, let alone find out she’s one of the attorneys handling my trade. I still can’t decide if the universe is playing some cosmic joke on me or if this is just another twist in my already messed-up career path.
She is gorgeous, though. Her eyes are expressive, and her figure is the perfect blend of curves and leanness.
I take a sip of my coffee and glance toward the hallway. She’s in one wing of the house and I’m upstairs in what I think is a smaller second main bedroom. The place is swanky with luxurious furniture and quality architecture, from what I can tell.
I listen for sounds of life down the hallway. I haven’t seen her this morning, but I figure she’s up. Lawyers probably keep ridiculous hours, right? They’re workaholics, too. I chuckle to myself. Where I’m all muscle and physical power, she’s got to be an intellectual with a brain of steel from so much studying to pass the bar and then so much thinking she has to do each day. I begrudgingly admit to myself that I admire that about her.
I feel a little bad about how things ended between us last night. I wasn’t trying to make a joke out of everything. It’s just something I do when I’m unsettled. And she unsettles me, intrigues me, and… arouses me. Joking is a tactic that has served me well in life, but I have a feeling it won’t work with her.
I hear footsteps coming from the hallway. My heart leaps in my chest. Why am I so excited to see a lawyer? I must have lost my mind. I turn just as Jessica steps into the kitchen, fully dressed in a sleek black blazer and professional skirt, looking like she’s ready to take on the world. Her hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she already has a serious, no-nonsense expression on her face.
I feel my crotch wake up at the sight of her. The gentle scent of floral reaches my nose and every masculine urge I have in me starts to roar to life. I can’t want her. But I do.
“Morning,” I say, trying to sound casual… trying not to smirk as I remember those full lips of hers muttering out “wow” at the sight of me last night. I’d love for her to say that to me again, in a very up close and intimate way.
She nods, but it’s curt. “Hi Eric. I trust you slept well.”
If this is how she is in a negotiation room, I bet she wins every time, likely by just freezing her clients’ opponents to death with the ice in her tone. Or, more likely, maybe she’s still annoyed to have to share the house with me. I lean back against the counter, setting my coffee mug down. “You heading into the city?”
“Yeah,” she says, not offering much else. She opens the fridge, sees nothing she likes, clearly, frowns and then shakes her head. How is she so damn cute doing something so banal? I clear my throat, noticing my casual attire next to her professional clothes. Even though we’re so different, I think we look cute together. I blink twice. Whoa! Where did that come from? She’s my housemate, not my girlfriend. Girlfriend? No. This has to stop.
“I’ve got to go into Denver too. Arena’s not far from your law office, right?” I pause, thinking this is me being friendly, trying to smooth things over with an olive branch of sorts. “I can give you a ride if you want. Save you the trouble of driving. I hear it snows a lot around here, and you wouldn’t have to deal with that.”
She looks at me for a second, like she’s assessing whether I’m serious or not. Finally, she shakes her head. “No thanks. I’ve got my own car. I lived in NYC for years. I’m not afraid of some snow.”
I blink. That was a fast shutdown. “Oh. Right. I was just trying to be nice to my housemate.”
Jessica reaches for her traitor of a computer sleeve, the one that revealed her job to me last night, and tightens her grip on it, not interested in any further conversation. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. Thanks.”
Boss lady. Those words come into my mind again. She’s a force to be reckoned with. Prim. Precise. Decisive. It makes me want to chase after her, pin her on the bed, and do all the wicked things to her body until she comes undone before me.
I gulp on my coffee, shoving the fantasy away.
I watch her turn towards the front door, her back stiff as she walks away. The door closes in a little click behind her.
“Well, that went well. I was just offering a ride, not asking for her life story.” Rebuffed and slightly irritated, I take another sip of coffee and tell myself that I tried to be nice and that’s what matters. I’m supposed to “clean up my act and my image” and part of that is being a nice guy, cutting out the ladies’ man crap.
She said no because she’s probably just one of those super independent types, always needing to do everything themselves.
Still, as I finish getting ready and drive to the arena, I can’t help but feel a bit thrown off. Last night was weird, sure, but I thought maybe offering help would smooth things over. Guess not.
The morning traffic is light as I make my way to the Avalanche’s arena. There’s a knot in my stomach, but it’s not about Jessica. It’s about the meeting with the team owner, Kip Brown. I haven’t even met the guy yet, and I already know this is going to be more than just a “welcome to Denver” chat. There’s always a catch when you’re a new guy and have to prove yourself. And in my case, I’m new to Denver but not new to the league, so there will be some PR stuff to negotiate and work out. There’s always a public relations angle to consider in my line of work. The whole reason I got traded was because Nashville didn’t want to deal with my so-called “image issues,” and I have a feeling Denver is going to be no different.
I pull into the arena parking lot in the back of the bowl, as it is colloquially called due to its shape, the enormous structure towering over me. The cold wind bites at my face as I step out of the car, reminding me I’m not in Nashville any longer.
After making my way inside and up to the top of the building where the executives’ offices are, I’m greeted by one of the staff members who escorts me to the executive conference room. It’s probably just going to be some boring meeting about logistics—contracts, endorsements, all that legal crap. I don’t need to worry. I can handle whatever they throw at me.
Except when the door opens, I see Jessica standing there, along with a guy I don’t recognize, probably another attorney. Her back is to me, and she’s talking with someone who looks important—tall, older guy with a confident presence. That is retired, Hall of Fame, former NHL player and now team owner, Kip Brown. He’s a type-A with a sharp eye for weakness. Once he finds it, he exploits it. It’s what made him so hard to beat on the ice.
My eyes rip off of Kip with his tall, powerful frame and smooth laugh. I focus on her.
What the hell? I thought she was going to her law office. Suddenly, I don’t know how to act—do I pretend I don’t know her? Am I supposed to come clean about us living together?
I walk inside, and everyone turns to look at me. Kip steps forward, a broad smile on his face. “Eric! Glad you could make it. Let’s get this meeting started.”
Jessica’s eyes are unreadable when she sees me, but her expression is the epitome of professionalism. If she’s surprised to see me here, she doesn’t let it show.
“Eric, good to see you,” Kip extends a hand, and I jump out of my Jessica-induced trance.
“Hello, Mr. Brown,” I say.
“Please, let’s be at ease here. It’s Kip. And this is Jason Hayes,” Kip says, gesturing toward the man standing next to Jessica. “He’s the senior attorney managing your contract and trade deal. And of course, you’ve already met Jessica, or so she tells us.” He pauses. “That is, if I understood you right, Jessica?”
She nods, forcing a smile. “Yes. The little housing mix up is just temporary, though.”
I glance at Jessica, who gives me a brief nod, as if all of us being here is the most casual thing in the world. It doesn’t feel that way to me. It feels like a set-up, or maybe that’s just my paranoia kicking in after I was let go from my last team. I knew she was working on my trade, but I didn’t expect to see her here, front and center at this meeting.
We all take our seats at the long table, and Kip starts talking about the team, how excited they are to have me on board, all that usual PR stuff.
Jason flips open a folder in front of him, glancing down at some notes. “Alright, Eric. We’ve reviewed the terms of your trade, and overall, it’s pretty standard. The team is looking forward to having you as a key forward, but there are a few things we need to finish before everything’s official.”
I nod, waiting for the specifics. This part is always boring, but necessary.
Jessica clears her throat, and when she speaks, her tone is all business. “The team’s main concern is making sure your transition to Denver goes smoothly, both on and off the ice. There’s been some… negative press in the past, and we want to ensure that doesn’t follow you here.”
Her words hit me like a slap. Negative press? Yeah, I know I’ve had a few incidents, but the way she says it—like I’m some kind of PR disaster waiting to happen—pisses me off. I glance at Kip, who seems unfazed, nodding along like he’s already bought into whatever Jessica’s selling.
Jessica continues, flipping through some documents. “We’ve outlined a series of community events and appearances that will help integrate you into the local community and present you as a positive role model.”
I can’t stay quiet anymore. “A positive role model?” I interrupt, my voice sharper than I intended. “I play hockey. I’m not trying to be some poster boy for charity events.”
Jessica looks up from her papers, her eyes narrowing slightly as if to warn me to calm down. It doesn’t work. “Eric, it’s important for the team’s image that—”
“I know it’s important for the team’s image,” I cut in, leaning forward. “But I’m not going to jump through hoops just because the media decided to turn me into a headline. I play hockey. That’s what I do. My performance on the ice is what matters.” I knew it. This is a set up. They’re trying to make me pay for the incorrect allegations put against me back in Nashville. I feel trapped in a corner and I have no intentions of sitting there and letting them run my life.
Her jaw tightens, and I can see she’s holding back some retort. “Your performance on the ice is important, but so is how you represent the team off the ice. The Avalanche are investing in you, and they want to make sure that investment pays off in every way.”
I clench my fists under the table. This is ridiculous. She’s making it sound like I’m a flawed person they’re trying to fix. “I understand,” I say more calmly, but my eyes flash at her. “And I want to support the team by presenting a good image.”
I see Kip nodding in approval at that.
“But please remember, I’m not your PR project. I don’t need you or anyone else telling me how to live my life. I’m just requiring that we set boundaries, and I’m requiring this up front.”
We’re practically glaring at each other now with fake smiles on our faces, both of us looking ridiculous. Kip and Jason exchange glances, but neither of them steps in. For me, this isn’t just a meeting anymore—it’s a showdown. If I let this boss lady side of Jessica have her way, I would have no downtime between games and she would be running every part of my off the ice life. I’m not okay with that.
Jessica finally breaks the silence. “Eric, we’re all on the same team here. The sooner you realize that, the easier this part of the trade deal negotiations will be.”
“I get that,” I say, my voice low but firm. Then, a solution comes to mind. The guy next to her is seasoned. He’d know what is reasonable, even if she might not. “But if this is how you’re going to handle things, maybe I’d be better off working with Jason.”
Jessica looks at Jason. Jason clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the way things are going. “Eric, I understand you might feel we are pushing for too much, but Jessica is leading the charge on this. She’s the best person to oversee this part of your team transition.”
Kip nods in agreement. “He’s right, Eric. From what I’ve heard from her last law firm, Jessica knows what she’s doing, and she’s got the team’s best interests in mind. You two need to find a way to work together for the good of the Avalanche.”
I glance at Jessica, who’s watching me with that cool, detached expression of hers. It’s like she doesn’t even care that I’m pissed. I remember then that this is not just my first day on the job—it’s hers, too. We each have a lot to lose. No wonder she is being pushy.
Kip leans forward, his voice deep and his gaze sincere. He is the kind of guy that makes you want to do as he asks. “Look, we brought you here because we believe you can help this team win. But we need you to understand that being part of the Avalanche means more than just scoring goals. It means representing the team in everything you do.”
I grit my teeth, knowing he’s right but still hating every second of this conversation and the way it makes me feel pinned into that corner again, with no way out. Finally, I nod. “Of course, Mr. Brown - Kip. I trust your judgement on this, and I’ll work with Jessica.”
She doesn’t react, just closes her folder and stands up, clearly ready for this meeting to be over. “Good. I think our part in this meeting has concluded.”
I feel my attraction to her soar as she fills in this boss role of hers. Jason stands and, after wishing me well in my one-on-one meeting with Kip, the two leave.
I find myself wishing she would stay.