Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
CHELSEY
My phone rang as I was sitting at my desk in the office, and when I glanced down at it, I saw the name of a journalist from a winter sports magazine I’d reached out to. Heart racing, I answered the phone and raised it to my ear.
“Hi, is this Chelsey Fields?” It was a brisk, female voice.
“It is,” I replied. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Tia Lopez from Winter Sports Monthly.
I know it’s short notice, but we had to cancel an article in our upcoming issue and when we were brainstorming what we could replace it with, I remembered our conversation.
Is there any chance we could come in this afternoon to interview the team, coaches, and owner? ”
My jaw dropped, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to reply.
For one thing, this was an incredible opportunity that I hadn’t expected to arise so quickly.
When I’d put out feelers to relevant magazines, I thought it might take a while to hear anything back.
Secondly, I imagined I could make sure most of the team and the coaches were here in the afternoon, but getting Joseph Trent on site might prove more challenging.
“Can I get back to you in a few minutes?” I asked, hating that I couldn’t give an immediate yes. “We’d love to have you here, but I need to ensure that everyone is available first.”
“Of course,” Tia replied. “I’ll need an answer within the hour, though, so I can make arrangements.”
“You’ll have it.” We said our goodbyes and ended the call.
I looked around for Stella, but she was nowhere in sight, so I lurched to my feet, already searching for her number on my phone, and limped across the office and into the corridor.
I walked the length, checking each room I passed to make sure she wasn’t inside.
She must have gone out for a meeting or an early lunch.
Stella’s phone rang, and fortunately, the call connected. “What’s up?”
“You won’t believe this.” I pushed the door and reentered the open-plan office area, making a beeline for my desk.
“That journalist I contacted from Winter Sports Monthly just called. They’ve had a last-minute cancellation and want to interview the team, the coaches, and Joseph Trent this afternoon. ”
Stella squealed. “Oh my God, that’s amazing! Wait—today?”
“Today,” I confirmed. “I know it’s super short notice, but this is an incredible opportunity. I really want to make it work. Do you think we can get Trent on board?”
She made a thoughtful sound. “He’s very concerned with improving the team’s reputation, so I think if there’s any way we can make it happen, he’ll be there. Just give me a moment and I’ll get in touch with him.”
“Okay, but we’ve only got an hour to get back to them,” I warned her.
“I’m on it.” Less than five minutes later, she called me back.
“We’re good to go. Trent will be there, so you just have to make sure they’ve got everything they need and that the coaches and the team know to stay behind.
A lot of them won’t have suits or clean gear with them, so you’ll want to check with the magazine to find out what they’d like them dressed in so we can make arrangements. ”
“Got it.” I made a note so I wouldn’t forget that. “I’ll go and talk to Coach and the players and then call her to get the details.”
“Excellent. I should be back within an hour.”
She hung up and I hobbled downstairs and over to the edge of the rink. Coach Dunn was near the center of the ice, but Assistant Coach Willets was nearby, so I called out to him.
He made his way over to me, smiling in welcome. “What can I do for you, Chelsey?”
I relayed the news to him and waited as he went over to discuss the matter with Coach Dunn.
As I hovered, eager for a response, Coach Dunn gathered the players around and asked how many would be able to remain after training and whether any had suits on hand or someone who would be able to bring them if needed.
In the end, the coach, the assistant coach, and almost every member of the team promised to be there. Honestly, that didn’t surprise me. It was a huge opportunity for them and even those who had prior commitments would no doubt do everything they could to shuffle them around.
I called Tia back to confirm and was relieved when she told me they wanted to start taking photos on the ice before moving elsewhere. That would give us longer to make sure the players had the correct clothing for later.
She also advised me that they wanted to focus on the team’s new leadership. That worked well for us since Mr. Trent was all about showing people the ways in which we were changing for the better, and it surely wouldn’t go amiss in the eyes of the NHL commissioner.
The handful of hours between locking in the interview and the arrival of the magazine team at the stadium passed far too quickly.
I raced around as fast as my injured ankle would allow, getting in touch with the players’ family members to have suitable outfits delivered, making sure we had someone around who could operate lighting equipment in case that was needed, and liaising with basically anyone who might have to be involved in any way.
It was a lot.
Ten minutes before they were due to arrive, Stella and I met with Mr. Trent in his office. The team owner looked as debonair as usual, clad in a designer suit, clean-shaven, and—if I wasn’t mistaken—fresh from a hairstylist.
He looked up from his computer and grinned. “Congratulations on getting the team this wonderful opportunity.” He nodded to me and then to Stella. “I’ve been really impressed by your work so far and then you go and pull this out of the hat? Amazing.”
My heart lifted and I smiled back but tried not to let it show just how pleased I was by his words. “Thank you, sir.”
It meant a lot to be praised by someone so successful—especially when he’d brought me in to help with what was essentially a pet project for him.
“Chelsey has been invaluable,” Stella said, making me grateful once again that she was my boss.
“Are you ready to go down?” I asked him, redirecting attention from me onto the matter at hand.
“In a minute.” He refocused on the computer and tapped at the keyboard a little bit, then clicked on the mouse and stood up. “All done.”
I wondered what he was doing. I honestly didn’t have much of an idea what the day-to-day responsibilities of a sports team owner were.
I had to imagine he spent most of his time running his company rather than doing work related to the team.
This was a side gig for him, but one he was passionate about.
We walked downstairs together—him patiently waiting on me and my sore ankle—and out the front just as a black sedan pulled into one of the parking spaces nearest the entrance. A curvy woman with golden brown skin and a well-fitted pantsuit got out and looked around.
When she spotted us, she walked over, her hand extended. “I’m Tia Lopez. Thanks so much for making this work.”
I shook her hand. “Chelsey Fields, and this is my boss, Stella Smith, and the team’s owner, Joseph Trent.”
Tia greeted each of my companions and gestured to the tall Black man behind her, who was toting a pair of duffel bags. “This is our incredible photographer, Warren Coolidge.”
I repeated our names for Warren’s benefit.
“We appreciate your interest in the Chaos and thank you for fitting us into your schedule,” Mr. Trent said to them both.
Tia tucked her hair behind her ear. “Things are changing with the Chaos, and we’re eager to hear what’s going on behind the scenes.”
“Shall we go in then?” he suggested, motioning toward the stadium entrance.
Mr. Trent led the way inside, and I showed Warren where he could set up the camera to take photographs of the players while they were still on the ice.
They were running drills, but it seemed half-hearted, and I suspected that they would have finished already but were lingering for the photo op.
The team was not-so-covertly casting glances at Warren and Tia, obviously curious.
Coach Dunn left Assistant Coach Willets in charge of the players and made his way over. He greeted the newcomers and they discussed what kind of action shots they wanted, then he returned to the team and got the players organized.
For a quarter of an hour, I made small talk with Tia and Stella while Warren photographed the practice. When he decided that he had enough footage, he asked for Austin, Nick, and Matt to remain on the ice while the rest of the team went to change for the second portion of the session.
He had the captain and two alternate captains pose together, separately, and with the coaches. I tried not to notice the way Matt’s gaze flicked to me regularly or how well he filled out his uniform.
Once they were finished, the three players were sent to shower and change while Stella and I escorted Tia and Warren to the team meeting room, which we’d decided would be the best location for the other photos and the interviews.
I really wanted to sit down and put my foot up, but it didn’t seem like I’d get the opportunity to do that anytime soon.
Tia crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the current setup disapprovingly.
“We’ll need to rearrange the furniture. I’d like to conduct the interviews on a sofa, and we can use that for photographs too, except for the full team photograph because not everyone will fit. Which sofa is the most stylish?”
“Uh…” I wandered around the room and exchanged a glance with Stella. The sofas here were meant for comfort. “This one isn’t bad.”
Tia came over and studied it. The sofa was pale gray and, fortunately, unstained. “It’ll do. Let’s set it up in front of the side wall, where the tables currently are. We want a plain background so it doesn’t detract attention from the players.”
Together, Stella and Warren moved one table while Tia and Mr. Trent moved the other, then Warren set up the camera on a tripod, with a standing flash to help with lighting. He was just getting the angle right when Stephen Robertson wandered in.