Chapter 6
Chapter Six
FRANCESCA
A soft snore fills the air a second before memories of last night flood into my mind.
Shit. I wasn’t supposed to fall into bed with him the night I saw him.
He wasn’t supposed to be caring and sweet and make me dinner, either.
I slowly and carefully climb out of his bed to not disturb him. I need to go downstairs and get the keys to my apartment and head to the arena early.
Grabbing one of Rhett’s oversized Savannah Sharks shirts from his half open dresser drawer, I pick up my clothes from yesterday and head out to his living room.
With the sun shining through the balcony door, his dark apartment doesn’t seem too dark. It looks more elegant and classy than a bachelor pad.
I throw my clothes on the couch before slipping on my bra, Rhett’s shirt, and my jean shorts from yesterday.
Where are my panties? Are they still on his bedroom floor, mixed in with his clothes?
I walk to his bedroom door and listen for any noises.
He lets out a low groan as if he’s starting to wake up, so I rush back to the couch, grab my shirt, and throw it in my backpack before sneaking out of Rhett’s apartment.
There’s no way I can face him this morning with my mind and heart confused and at war with each other because last night was perfect… too perfect.
Following the path from last night, I get to the elevator and press the down button. I hope the office is open because I need to pee, and I need coffee.
Waiting for the elevator, several male voices make their way down the hallway closer to me.
Those could be players, but I don’t want them meeting me like this. I want to look the part of a professional public relations director.
Glancing down at my current attire, I shrug. Well, as professional as I can be without having my luggage here.
The elevator dings open, and I hurry inside before anyone can see me. This morning, the elevator ride seems to drag on, despite it only having to go down one floor.
Thankfully, the office is open and empty when I get there.
An older woman looks up from her desk calendar. This must be Darla, the apartment manager Rhett called last night.
“Good morning. How can I help you?” Her words are friendly, but her tone and scowl are anything but.
“Good morning, I am Francesca Marino, and I’m here to sign my paperwork and officially move in.”
Her eyes narrow at me before she digs around in the top drawer of her desk. “You don’t have to sign any paperwork. It’s all been handled. Here are your keys.”
She hands me the keys and my mouth falls open. “That’s it?”
She seems unaffected by my surprise expression.
If I didn’t have to sign any paperwork, why couldn’t they give Rhett my keys before the office closed? Or at least have someone meet me to hand my keys over.
And what about paying my rent? Or setting up a water and electric account? Where do I bring my trash and recycling?
There’s so many questions left unanswered, but I get the feeling that her job is just to hand me my keys.
I guess I’ll have to ask Rhett all these questions.
As if sensing my barrage of questions in my mind, she sighs and says, “There is a book on your coffee table about the apartment complex with a map of where the pool, gym, and sauna are located. If you have any questions, there is a sheet of contact numbers for you in the book.”
Clearly, she isn’t going to be much help, so I give her a friendly smile. “Thank you.”
Remembering Rhett telling me the far elevator is closer to my apartment, I head in the opposite direction of the lobby in search of the third elevator.
It’s easy to find, and it’s much quicker than the one I took down to the lobby from Rhett’s apartment.
Shit. What is my apartment number ?
I look at the keys Darla handed me and see a tiny 213 written on the key with a Sharpie.
It doesn’t take long for me to find my apartment. When I open the door, I am met with the same views as the pictures online.
Everything is white, bright, and modern. I have the same large balcony door that Rhett has, but there’s less furniture in my apartment than his.
I make my way around the familiar floor plan, dropping my bags at the end of my bed.
The same spot where Rhett threw our clothes last night.
After checking out my bathroom, laundry room, and kitchen, I grab my phone, keys, and wallet from my purse and shove them into my pockets. I lock my apartment door and head back downstairs to make my way to the arena.
As soon as I walk through the doors, memories flood inside. The memories of coming to watch Joey play. The memories of sneaking around with Rhett, trying to find good hiding places for a quickie.
And the memory of sitting behind the players’ bench right before I made the decision to break up with Rhett.
It feels strange to be back, but this time it’s different. I’m not just Joey Marino’s sister or Rhett Montgomery’s girlfriend. Today, I’m the new director of public relations.
I square my shoulders and head upstairs to the offices and am immediately greeted by a younger woman wearing a light gray skirt suit and four inch black heels .
“Hi, you must be Francesca. I’m Alexandra, your father’s assistant.”
I hold out my hand and offer her a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you Alexandra. Sorry I’m so underdressed. The airport still has my luggage, and I couldn’t get into my apartment until this morning.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh! You didn’t have to come in today. You still have a lot to do to get settled into your apartment. I can tell your father that you need an extra day or two to get settled in.”
I wave her off. “My stuff is coming later this week, so I’m only missing a couple of pieces of luggage. It’s no big deal. Really.”
“If you say so.” She looks down at the Savannah Sharks t-shirt that I’m wearing and smiles.
Nodding, I say, “I do. Now onto something more pressing, where can I get a good cup of coffee?”
Her smile grows into a grin. “That I can help you with because I’m a master of caffeine. Follow me.”
She leads me down the long hallway and shows me to the staff break room. It’s a standard break room with a couple of tables and chairs, a refrigerator, microwave, and a sink.
The walls are painted Savannah Shark blue and on one wall is an entire coffee bar set up with several machines and all the additives one could hope for.
“You can use the dual coffee maker and make an individual cup or an entire pot. Or there’s the espresso and cappuccino machine if you’re craving something stronger and fancier. You will probably see me here three to four times a day at the espresso machine.”
“Alexandra, I think you and I are going to be best friends. Will you show me how to use it? I’d hate to be the one responsible for cutting off your caffeine.”
“Oh, you couldn’t break it if you tried. What do you fancy this morning? Plain espresso? Flat white? Cappuccino?”
“A cappuccino sounds amazing.”
Both Mom and Dad would drink cappuccinos together every morning, no matter what was going on. That was their daily routine, and they never let business interfere with their time.
I follow Alexandra over to the machine.
“Alright, let me show you the basics. I’m usually the first one in, so I set it up for the day, but in case I’m late or you’re just really early, you should know how to start it.”
She shows me everything from adding more espresso beans to the hidden water compartment and the milk carafe before making me a fresh cappuccino and making her a flat white.
“Thank you.” I say as we head back down the hallway with our drinks.
She stops in front of a large modern office that is tastefully decorated with a large L-shaped desk and an entire wall of bookshelves. Most of the shelves are bare, but some contain hockey memorabilia as well as tiny succulents.
“This is your office. You can decorate it however you’d like, but I wanted it to be welcoming when you arrived, so I cleaned and brought in some collectibles from the store as well as some greenery. If it’s too much, you can get rid of it and just decorate it to your tastes.”
“No, this is perfect. Thank you so much. Now I just have to figure out what I want to fill the shelves with.”
Alexandra walks over to my desk and pulls out a binder from the top drawer before handing it to me.
“Here’s the team binder, complete with pictures, background checks, and any pertinent information I thought you should know. I have them listed in order of seniority starting with this year’s captain. There’s also a list of the trainers and coaches in the back.”
“Wow, that is a lot of work for you to put together.”
“I actually put one together for myself when I started. I figured it was the easiest way to get to know the guys.”
I nod and flip the cover open, meeting the gaze that I’ve dreamed about more than I care to admit.
Rhett Montgomery.
“Rhett’s the captain now?”
She nods before gasping. “Oh! I forgot the two of you have history together. Is this going to be awkward working here with him?”
I shake my head. “Not as awkward as expecting my father or brother to pick me up from the airport last night and seeing Rhett waiting for me.”
Her eyes widen. “I bet that was really awkward.”
“You have no idea. ”
“Just so you know, I volunteered to pick you up because I’m the only other woman to work here besides the older women in the store downstairs, but your father said he was making other arrangements.”
“Thanks anyway for volunteering.”
She nods and pauses for a few moments. “Well, I’ll let you get settled and give you a chance to look over the binder, but if you need anything, I’m always around. I can give you a tour later, but I’m guessing you know more about the arena than I do.”
She flashes me a smile and winks before leaving me in this large office alone.
Sitting in my brand new leather office chair, I take a sip of my cappuccino and open the binder.
I’ll read the information that Alexandra gathered later, but for now, I just want to put names to faces, so I know who is who.
The first three pages are players I know from years ago. Rhett Montgomery, Spencer Reed, and Gage Roberts. Followed by a picture of Joey.
A few guys walk past the office wearing their practice jerseys and give me a friendly head nod, which I return.
One of the players is Knox Anderson, our team goalie. His picture in the binder doesn’t match the guy that just walked past.
In person, he seems to be friendlier and more approachable. The picture that Alexandra put in the binder resembles a mugshot after a weekend bender.
Is this really the best picture she could find? Maybe this is a mugshot and the only picture she could find at the time.
I’ll have to ask her about it the next time I see her.
As if conjuring her up in my mind, she pops her head through my open door. “Hey, I need you to meet with the head coach and the goalie coach to go over player public relation stuff.”
“What kind of stuff? They do realize today is my first day here, right? I haven’t even been able to go through the binder yet.”
“They want you to have a public relation lesson day with the guys.”
“That sounds pointless. These are grown men, not toddlers.”
They should already know what is good press, and what is bad press. They should know what will reflect negatively on the team, but I am new and don’t have a leg to stand on, so I agree.
“Alright, show me the way.” I close the binder and leave it on my desk before following her down the stairs to the ice.
The air is chilly, and I wish I had a hoodie or something to keep me from freezing. Hopefully, this won’t take too long. My gaze wanders around the ice, looking for the coaches before meeting Rhett’s gaze.
Damn, he looks great in his blue and white practice jersey.
Alexandra nudges my side with her elbow before our phones ding.
“That’s too much of a coincidence, right?” I say as I dig my phone out of my pocket .
“It has to be related to work because no one else would message both of us at the same time. Either that, or it’s a hell of a coincidence.”
Looking down at my phone, I see a message from Dad.
Upper staff meeting in five minutes.
“Upper staff? Like upstairs?”
Alexandra nods as she reads the same message on her phone. She looks across the ice at an older man and yells, “Sorry coach, but there’s a meeting with the boss. We will have to reschedule.”
He nods, looking unaffected by the sudden change of plans.
“Come on, we have to hurry. We can’t keep the boss waiting.”
“Yeah, that would be bad. The last person to make him wait lost their job and had to move away.”
At least that’s the story that was told.
No one keeps Arturo Marino waiting, not if they want to see another day.