The Revolution’s head coach,Bobby O’Doul, is well respected. He’s also a pompous ass with an ego the size of the Liberty Bell. As one of the few men in this league who hold dual GM and head coach titles, he’s earned it... to an extent. It’s more common in professional football than hockey. After fifteen years spent as one of the league’s top defensemen on the ice in California, he retired and switched coasts to work with this organization as one of the assistant coaches. Two decades later, he’s sitting at the top of the food chain.
At least, he thinks he is.
But owner trumps GM.
And while I haven’t spent my life learning hockey the way I’ve learned football, I will not be disrespected in a building I fucking own. “I don’t think you’re hearing me. I wanted to be included in the discussions. I will be included in the decisions. If it’s happening in this organization, I’m the first to know.”
His face reddens like a plump tomato, ready to burst, while I sit back in my chair, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
O’Doul shoves back from his chair and plants his hands on the edge of my desk. “Brenner never needed that.”
“Do I look like Will Brenner to you?” I wait until he straightens, then rise from the chair. Bobby O’Doul doesn’t intimidate me, and respect is earned in my world. So far, he hasn’t earned mine. “I’ve never been a micromanager before, and I don’t intend to become one now, but I’ve always known my organization, inside and out. Every employee hired, every cent spent. If this team fails, it ultimately comes back on me. So for now, you’re stuck with me in your meetings and on certain calls. We’re barely a month away from training camp, and we both know that any changes that need to happen behind the scenes need to be finished by then.”
O’Doul stands there, stoically staring at me. I offer him my hand, hoping he’ll take the olive branch for what it is. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if we were on the same side.”
“Yeah well, we’ll see how it goes. Won’t we?” He begrudgingly shakes my hand, then hurriedly leaves my office, closing the door behind him.
I cross the room to reopen the door only to see he’s stopped to speak with my ever-perky assistant, who has a smile stretching across her face for everyone but me. She always seems to be looking at me with a mix of suspicion and surprise splashed across her beautiful face. She’s asking about his daughter’s game, and O’Doul happily shows her what I’m assuming is a photo on his phone before heading to the elevator. Apparently, pleasantries are given out freely in this office to everyone else.
I’ve never had such a hard time winning over staff.
But the culture of this office is different from the Kings.
And that needs to change. Starting from the top down.
Daphne turns back to her computer and jumps when she sees me standing in the doorframe. She runs her teeth over her plump bottom lip the way I’ve noticed she often does.
The urge to free that lip with my thumb before I suck it into my mouth immediately follows like it’s been doing all week. I’m going to fucking hell.
She’s worked for me for one week, and thoughts I shouldn’t be having invade my brain daily. She’s nothing like the women I’ve been with. All soft curves and smiles, covered in feminine dresses and delicate pearls. Not a power suit or designer handbag in sight.
Daphne Brenner would never date a guy just to be seen.
She’d rather eat at the local food truck than The Four Seasons.
She exudes happiness and laughter for everyone but me. I’m the villain in her fairytale, and for some reason, that bothers me. I didn’t steal this company away from her father. He came to me for a fucking rescue boat.
When she starts packing up for the day, I stop her. “Have you had any thoughts about what we discussed last week?”
Her phone buzzes on her desk before she has a chance to answer me, and she quickly picks it up and glances over the screen before her face falls and her skin pales. “I’m sorry, Max... I’ve got to go.” She logs off her computer and hurries out of the building without a backward glance.
What the fuck was that?
And why am I left with a feeling of loss when she leaves?
* * *
KINGSTON FAMILY GROUP TEXT:
Scarlet: Does anyone need an extra ticket for Crucible’s fundraiser this weekend?
Lenny: Like I would pass up a chance to watch your boyfriend flex his MMA muscles?
Lenny: I’ll take two.
Hudson: Are you sure you’re happily engaged, little sister?
Lenny: Look, but no touch, Huddy. There’s nothing wrong with it. Besides Bash has his own muscles that I touch as much as I want.