Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Unexpectantly winded, Sig coughed into his fist. “I thought you weren’t going to beat around the bush.”
Amusement briefly crossed her face. “Thank you is the response you’re looking for.”
“I’m not sure if I’m thanking you yet.” Sig looked her dead in the eye. “Are you going to trade me or give me a better contract?”
The fact that she appeared to be conflicted did nothing to settle his stomach. “I’m sure you can appreciate my position. I’m new. I’m going to be under the microscope. And let’s be honest, everyone will want me to fail, whether they say it out loud or not. Because of that, I have to be an exceptional general manager. I’m either the best or I’ll be considered the worst.”
“I hear you. I’m just not sure what this has to do with me.”
“It was my intention to elevate you to captain and pay you the kind of eight-figure salary you deserve. That’s what I want to do, because it’s the best move for the team. And while I’m under a microscope . . .” She paused. “I’m not sure that’s where you want to be.”
Sig’s blood rapidly started to drop in temperature.
His conversation with Burgess in the smoothie shop earlier that day came back to him in snippets. What’s the story with you and Chloe? Just get it out in the open so we can figure out how to keep it from biting you in the ass.
He’d blown off his friend’s concern. Was it being proven valid? Already?
“I’m sorry,” Sig managed. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
One of Reese’s eyebrows ticked up. She didn’t appreciate him playing dumb, but he didn’t know what else to do. Not until he heard the extent of the problem.
“There has been a lot of chatter on the Bearcats message boards about the girl in the pink Gauthier jersey. She’s in the front row at every game, sits with the fiancée of Burgess Abraham, so naturally fans are making assumptions that Pink Jersey is your girlfriend, since your name is on her back.” He remained stone-faced, but his pulse was going a thousand miles an hour. Message boards? What the fuck? “Obviously, we had to do our due diligence on this. It was easy to find out her name, because the tickets have been left at the box office under Chloe Clifford every week since the start of the season. She’s your stepsister.”
“Not yet,” he managed. “Not for two months.”
“Forgive me, Sig, but I don’t think people are going to make that distinction. Furthermore, they don’t want to.” He read the hint of sympathy on her face, but he didn’t care for it. Didn’t want to see it or acknowledge it. Sympathy wasn’t called for. He hadn’t lost Chloe. Hadn’t ruined her. Not yet. “And after the article that came out this afternoon in the Globe’s late edition, I can only imagine how the gossip is going to proliferate. Because it doesn’t appear to be gossip. Does it?”
Sig could barely hear Reese over the pounding in his skull. “What article?”
Reese didn’t move right away, but when she did, she opened the laptop in front of her, tapped a few keys, and turned the device around.
The pictures drew his attention first. Him and Chloe walking Pierre that morning, before sunrise. Shoulder to shoulder, smiling at each other, like they were the only two people in the world, his hand resting on the small of her back. Beside that snapshot, there was another one of Chloe at a recent game, her palms pressed to the glass as he skated by.
The headline reached out and sucker punched him—“Stepsister Goes Above and Beyond?”—and . . . Christ, he couldn’t read anymore. Not without getting sick.
“Right now, it’s only a small clipping in the entertainment section, but I don’t anticipate the story remaining quiet for long. Not after your agent demanded they remove your name as one of Boston’s more eligible bachelors . . . and now? This secret relationship appears to be why. The chatter only gets worse if we name you as the next captain.”
This was his future being discussed. Eight figures. The captainship of an NHL franchise.
Everything he’d ever dreamed of.
But Sig could only think about getting to Chloe. Fast. Did she know about the article? Worse, had her mother caught wind of it? Perhaps been informed by her lawyers? Was he simultaneously losing the income he’d need to provide for Chloe and sawing off her financial pipeline, as well? Jesus, he needed to get to Chloe’s apartment. Now. Or . . .
Fuck. Was that going to make things worse?
“I can’t have the public questioning whether our captain is in a romantic relationship with his stepsister. And looking at these pictures, I don’t even think they would question it.”
Sig opened his mouth to deny he and Chloe were . . . more.