13. Sonya
Sonya
I felt good. Really, really good.
But it wasn’t just that I felt good. I was giddy.
Light. The kind of light that made me want to have a dance party in my apartment like Grey and Yang.
I hadn’t felt this good in ages, not when I was in Boston and living what I thought was my best life.
I realized that as much as I loved my life in the city, happiness came laced with anxiety about the ever-increasing cost of rent, the constantly changing face of social media, the bad behavior of the players that grew more difficult to conceal when everyone walked around with a camera shoved in their back pockets.
Here in Seville, though? Here life was just plain good. I was happy with my home, my job and even my love life. And I was even starting to form friendships based on something other than my proximity to basketball. Or rising fame.
Life was simpler in Seville but in that condescending way city folk usually meant it when they used that word.
Nobody here was looking past you for someone more interesting or influential; they weren’t looking down on you for wearing last season’s designs or opting for something without a designer label at all.
It was that kind of simplicity that shaved off the edges of anxiety that city living came with.
That didn’t mean there was no stress because there was.
Social media management wasn’t a nine-to-five job and Canada was one big country packed to the brim with hockey fans.
It was a lot of work but I found it rewarding and coming up with new strategies kept things fresh, and as long as I produced results, my boss was satisfied.
So yeah, I was happy.
Downright giddy, in fact.
Someone knocked on my door and I gasped as if I’d been caught doing something wrong, and then I laughed to myself for being so ridiculous. “Come in.”
Jade peeked her head in, looking around the room as if she was expecting someone else in my office and pushed open the door.
“Expecting someone else?”
She arched one brow and that one move had my breath catching in my throat. “Not at all. Should I be?”
Yep, she definitely suspected something. “Nope. Did you need something?”
“Yes.” Jade stepped inside my office where her fire engine red suit made everything look dull and lifeless by comparison.
Everyone called her The Dragon but I thought she was just plain cool with a wardrobe so droolworthy I considered losing twenty pounds and gaining four inches just to borrow some of her clothes.
“Two things. We have a new scheduler starting this week. Her name is Luisa and she’s going to need someone to show her the ropes, since your jobs are somewhat related and you’re friendly, I thought of you. ”
“No problem. I’ll find out when she starts and roll out the welcome wagon. What’s the second thing?”
She clutched a disposable coffee cup in her hand like it was her only lifeline, still scanning my office in search of…something. “I just wanted to come in and let you know that you’re doing a much better job than I expected.”
“You mean because Dad begged you to hire me?” It stung but I knew what I was getting myself into when he told me about the job.
“Yes, but not just the nepo baby aspect. The guys hate social media and they’ve run off the last couple of managers, yet you’ve gotten them to post at least semi-regularly and engagement is up thirty percent over the past two weeks.
The main page is witty and snappy, fresh with crisp photos and pithy captions.
The behind-the-scenes videos are getting tons of play, and I don’t know what magic spell you’ve cast, but Blaze is suddenly everybody’s favorite cowboy. ”
I bit back a smile. “The local thing really helps. Despite how small Seville is, half the surrounding towns consider him a local boy . And he’s just being himself, only in front of a bigger audience.”
“Whatever it is,” Jade began without a hint that I said too much about Nick, “keep it up. It’s working and that’s what matters.”
I preened at her praise, knowing she didn’t dish it out easily.
Not only that but it was her opinion that mattered most. “Actually,” I hesitated but then I realized there was no need to hesitate.
Jade was the decision maker and I had her ear right now.
“We have nosebleed seats that don’t sell out despite the discounted ticket prices, and I was thinking if we had any extra merch I could use for giveaways, we could randomly pick a few giveaway winners during home games who will get their merch signed by their favorite Thunderhawk. ”
Jade thought it over, nodding as she did. “So they win but the only way to get it signed is to be at the game?”
“Exactly, and it doesn’t have to be big items, just hats, pucks and plushie Thunderhawks, things like that.”
“Go nuts,” she said with a dismissive hand wave. “I’ll have my assistant send some down to you. Fans love free stuff, but I like the idea of getting them into the arena. Good thinking, Sonya.”
“Thank you.” God, was I so starved for praise that her words made me feel so good?
She studied me for a long minute as if she was trying to figure me out. “Mac said you hated hockey.”
It wasn’t a question or an accusation, but she deserved an answer. My smile froze as I rushed through the most diplomatic answers I could come up with but they all sounded like bullshit—because they were—so I went with the truth. “I do,” I admitted. “Or maybe I did. It’s complicated.”
Jade’s arms folded in front of her. “Complicated how?”
I hesitated again and then opted for the truth.
She was raised on hockey, if anyone understood it was her.
“Hockey stole my dad and most of my childhood from me. He was always gone, always distracted, taking care of his players more than me. Missed birthdays, school events, even all of my graduation ceremonies. I never came first and I blamed hockey.”
She nodded, not in understanding, but in simple acknowledgment. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It did, but it turns out I don’t hate it the way I used to. I guess I’m learning there’s more to the game and the players. And the people here are decent.”
Jade’s lips twitched. “Well hate if you must, just keep doing what you’re doing.”
I laughed. “Deal.” The wall clock caught my eye and my shoulders sagged. “I need to head down to the arena. Kids Skate Hour starts soon and I plan to grab some photos and videos.”
“Right. Watch out for the moms; they are vicious and reek of desperation. Good luck.” With those final words, Jade took off, leaving me to grab my camera and rush down several flights of stairs to make it onto the ice just as the families started to arrive.
I was ready for the moms, at least I thought I was, but when I got down to the ice, I knew I wasn’t ready.
Varying in age from early twenties to late forties, each and every one of the women was dolled up like it was Saturday night, hair fresh from a salon visit, lips plump and glossy, stilettos on point and pants suitably skintight to draw the attention of an almost famous—or locally famous—hockey player.
Other than the moms, the place buzzed with excitement and chaos.
And movement. There were two dozen ten-and-under kids wobbling on skates and squealing in delight as they pushed blades against the ice to propel themselves into motion.
For their part, the players were scattered all around the ice with their helmets off, crouched down as they chatted with the kids, helping them stay upright on the ice.
It was beautiful. The pure joy on the faces of the kids was contagious.
And fun.
I captured so much content in the first twenty minutes; I wasn’t sure how I’d ever use it all. The kids beamed as they talked hockey with their favorite players while the moms cheered each time a player skated by.
“Sonya! Over here, Sonya!” I turned and spotted three women waving me over. I recognized each of them as I grew closer because they were all dating hockey players.
“Hello ladies.”
“I’m Ginger and this is Carrie and Bryn.”
“Right,” I nodded. “Cal. Brock. Simon,” I pointed to each of them, realizing how rude and belittling that sounded. “Sorry, I just meant that’s why you look so familiar. Obviously you’re more than that.”
Ginger waved off my apology. “Welcome to Seville. How are you settling in?”
“Fine,” I sighed. “This is my first time living here but I’ve been here plenty in the past. My dad grew up here.”
“Right,” Carrie said, snapping her fingers. “Coach Mac’s little girl. Not so little anymore.”
“Nope,” I agreed. “Fully grown woman. Are you enjoying the show?”
All three women burst out laughing. “Oh yeah,” Bryn said. “This is some of the best entertainment of the week.” She flicked a gaze to the gaggle of moms, a warm smile on her face. “Never gets old.”
I liked the women instantly. They were easy to talk to with a warmth and familiarity that pulled me right into their circle. “I’m impressed they made such an effort. I feel constantly overdressed and they put me to shame.”
“You look amazing,” Ginger assured me. “If I had those curves, I’d flaunt them too.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “Doesn’t always feel like a gift.”
“That’s because women are so much harder on ourselves than we are on everyone else.” Bryn spoke with such wisdom. I promised myself I’d try to stop judging myself so harshly.
The conversation came to a sudden halt when Nick skated past us, his gaze connecting with mine instantly, that stupidly charming grin light up his face as he did. And then he punctuated the hottest look in the world with a wink.
A wink!
I just barely stopped myself from smiling back.
But Ginger? She squealed like an excited little girl. “Tell me that is not happening,” she whispered in a tone that said she wanted to hear the exact opposite. “Coach’s daughter and a sexy cowboy hockey player? This is rom-com gold.”
“Nothing is happening,” I said quickly.
Ginger only gasped, her eyes wide as they studied me. “Tell us everything!”
“And even if it were,” I began over her excited words. “It would be on the super-duper down low. Feel me?”
“Holy crap,” Carrie whispered. “I picked a good day to emerge from my cave.”
We all fell silent but seconds later we erupted in laughter.
It felt good to be part of this absurd moment, like I was finally in on the joke instead of on the outside wishing I was on the inside.
I thought I’d have to dig in just to survive my time in Seville but these women, the players and even Jade were helping me build a proper life here.
Aside from hiding the dating a hockey player thing. Of course.
“Sonya.” That too familiar, deep baritone filled with annoyance couldn’t belong to anyone other than my father.
I snapped a photo of the women still laughing before I blanked my expression and turned to face him. “Hey, Dad.”
He was, of course, scowling with his big arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t need my players distracted.”
Here we go. “The players are supposed to be here. This, community outreach,” I motioned to the ice. “Is part of their job. The only person who doesn’t need to be here right now is you, so who’s really the distraction?”
His gaze narrowed, but he said nothing.
I turned away from him and got back to work taking photos. Leave it to Dad to make something as simple as doing my job and somehow blaming me for distracting his players. He cared about them and only them.
Still.
Well he can simmer, I have a job to do.
I snapped photos and videos before I talked to some of the kids and parents who were happy to talk up their love of the Thunderhawks. No matter what my dad thought, I was good at my job and that was the only reason I was here.
I took the last shots and I was already posting things before I made it back to my office to grab my bag and my coat.
As I slid behind the steering wheel, my phone buzzed with a text.
From Dad. “Dinner. Sunday. No excuses.”
I rolled my eyes but I typed back one word. “Fine.”