Rookie Move by Sarina Bowen
One by one conversations died as everyone gave his attention to the men in charge. “We have a change to announce,” Hugh Major said.
Oh. Fuck. Leo braced himself.
“Silas Kelly will head to Hartford tomorrow morning. I would like to personally thank him for his service, and his excellent attitude at every turn. And if we make it to the postseason, we’ll probably see him in Brooklyn again.”
O’Doul began to clap, and Leo joined immediately. But his mind whirled. Silas gone? The last-minute roster changes had begun. Karl obviously wanted to give someone else the backup job going into the play-offs.
Across the room, Silas was already stuffing things into his duffel. They’d probably only told him five minutes ago. Now it was back to the minor leagues. His two-way contract made that an easy decision for the team. But then . . . Leo felt a cold chill crawl up his spine. If Karl went shopping for a goalie, he might trade Leo to get one.
And poor Silas. Leo felt terrible for his roommate of four weeks. This business was rough. Nobody was ever safe.
When Leo came out of the showers a few minutes later, Silas was beside his locker, tossing gear into a hockey bag. He’d have to carry it out himself tonight, and put it on a plane to Hartford tomorrow.
“Man, I’m sorry to lose you,” Leo said. “This should have been the start of a beautiful relationship.”
Silas gave a bark of laughter. “Don’t get all teary on me now. And hey—my buddy thinks he’s getting traded to Anaheim now. You might be off the hook.”
“We’ll see I guess.” Leo wasn’t counting on anything after Coach’s outburst today. At this point, he was probably willing to trade him to a beer league just to get him the hell away from Georgia.
“If you make it through the deadline, would you think about taking over my lease? There’s five months left.”
“Sure I’d take it over,” Leo said quickly. “But that’s a big ‘if.’”
Silas gave him a sad grin. “Let me know. It’s a lot of rent but I’ll miss that place.”
“I sure will.”
They shook hands.
Leo got dressed and wondered where Georgia was. The jet would take them all back to New York tonight on a late flight. Leo was looking forward to going home. He slipped on his shoes and went to find her.
But when he stepped into the hallway, someone stopped him. “Leo. Could you come here a minute, son?”
Leo’s head snapped up with surprise. It was Karl Worthington who stood frowning at him. “Sure,” he said, wondering why Coach’s voice sounded so dire. Here it comes, he thought as he followed him down the hallway. “What’s the problem?”
“No problem.” The coach stopped and crossed his arms. “I just want to apologize to you.”
Leo just blinked for a minute. “You do?”
“Yeah, for being an asshole.” Karl stuck a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. “Georgia’s senior year of high school was really hard on me.”
“No kidding,” Leo said quickly.
But Coach shook his head. “Not just the last part. The whole thing. You two were gonna fly the coop. I helped my little girl pick a college. Then I helped you get onto that D-1 team where I knew you could become great. And everything was fucking over. Georgia was my whole family. No—Georgia and you were my whole family. When I thought you two were going to break up, I was angry at you for leaving both of us. And then . . .” He looked down at the rubber matting on the floor, shaking his head. “I blamed you even though it didn’t make any fucking sense. I just wanted to go back in time to where the two of you were happy, sneaking around boosting Georgia through her bedroom window after curfew.”
Leo’s chest was tight. “We broke a lot of rules. But I loved her.”
Coach’s voice was gravel. “I know you did. I trusted you completely.”
Yikes. “Thing is . . .” Leo rubbed his chin and tried to form words that made sense. “Who knows what would have happened? Maybe Georgia would have gotten sick of the long-distance thing. It happens. Or maybe I would have. We were so fucking young.”
Karl gave him a sad smile. “I know. But I met my wife in high school. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. And you had a good heart and you made her laugh. Meanwhile, I’d just spent a decade coaching some real punks in college. At seventeen, you were twice the man as most of them. I had faith in the two of you. Until I didn’t anymore. I’m sorry.”
Leo leaned back against the wall and tipped his eyes toward the ceiling. What was with his eyes today? They kept getting scratchy and hot. “Apology accepted,” he said.
Karl exhaled. “Now go find my girl and make her happy. You both deserve it.” He held out a hand.
But something—maybe it was his competitive streak, or maybe it was love—made Leo grab him for a hard, back-slapping hug instead. Then he left Coach blinking in the hallway and went to pack up his stuff, so that he could catch up with Georgia on the jet.
THIRTY-THREE
Georgia would have been the first to board the plane, but she was waylaid by Hugh Major. “Can we chat about the PR department for a second?” he asked. “I know it’s late, but here we are . . .”
“Sure,” she said quickly. If he was going to give her bad news, they might as well get it over with.
“You didn’t get back to me about those two candidates,” he said right away. “I liked both of them. But if you’re going to be working with whoever I hire, I really want your opinion.”
She held in her sigh. “I’m sure I could work with either one. They’re both amazingly qualified.” More qualified than I am.
“That’s true. But you and I need to talk about the division of labor.”
Here it comes. Georgia looked square into Hugh’s eyes and waited for him to explain that she’d be working for the new guy. She’d take it like a champ, and maybe he’d see just how professional she really was. “How do you see the division of duties?” she asked calmly.
“I’m going to appoint two coheads of PR. You and a new guy. So—” He spread his hands.
Georgia visibly jerked at this news. Did he really just tell her she’d (mostly) stay in the top chair in PR?
“—You need to tell me whether you’d rather be in charge of player communications—finding and arranging their interviews, handling their scandals, you know. The usual. Or do you want the half of the job that deals with our nonprofit outreach? The hospitals, that women’s shelter, the Brooklyn Arts efforts. My gut says you like that side of it more, but I want to hear it from you.”
For a long moment, she just blinked at him. “Well . . .” Pull yourself together, Worthington. “I enjoy the nonprofit work the most. But I can handle either job.”
“Of course you can. But if you want the nonprofit work, I’m going to hire the one guy, and if you want the player representation piece, I’ll go with the other—the Wharton guy—for the nonprofit work.”
“There will always be some overlap,” Georgia pointed out.
“Absolutely. So what’s it going to be, Miss Worthington?”
“I’ll take the nonprofit piece. We could really do so much more on that front.”
Hugh grinned. “Nathan will love that. He really wants to show the world the Bruisers are good for Brooklyn.”
“They are,” Georgia agreed. “Our next benefit is for a women’s shelter. Fifty kids live there on a temporary basis. I want to have a skating party with some of the players. These kids should know that not all men are awful.”
“I like it.” Hugh held up a fist to bump, and Georgia bumped it. “That’s good outreach without much expense.”
“Ice time on the practice rink and a few refreshments. I’ve already done the math. And I think we could donate ice time to Boys and Girls Clubs of New York, too.” She heard herself start to babble. Hugh didn’t really need an entire business plan at eleven PM. ??
“Glad to hear it, Killer.” He winked. “I think they’re ready for us.” He looked past her at the Jetway door, which had just been opened.
Georgia practically scampered onto the plane. She was incredibly relieved at what Hugh had planned for the HR office. Two coheads was a structure she hadn’t considered, but it made a heck of a lot of sense. It meant that the PR exec working on the nonprofit projects wouldn’t always be yanked into whatever gossip or scandal was brewing with the team.
And there would always be gossip. These were hockey players, after all.
Georgia was one of the first to board the plane. She chose a seat near the rear, scooting all the way in to the window seat for Becca, who came down the row just behind her. But Becca didn’t take it. Instead, she slid into the seat on the opposite side of the aisle, and winked.
It wasn’t long before the cabin filled with players. Leo appeared over her. “Is this seat taken?”
“Nope!” Becca said from behind his backside.
Leo grinned, and Georgia was pleased to see that he looked relaxed and happy. Tired, maybe. But that was just a given in the middle of the season. He stashed his carry-on in the overhead compartment and then sat down. Reaching for her hand, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed it.
Georgia aimed her smile at the window, but since it was dark outside, all she saw was her own reflection. She looked relaxed and happy, too.
“Will you come home with me tonight?” Leo asked quietly. “I’ll probably help Silas pack, so it won’t exactly be a party. But I want you in my bed.”
Georgia squeezed his hand. “Absolutely. I’ve missed you.”
He made a low growl. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, moving a little closer to him. “I heard you might be traded, and I panicked.”
“I know.” He chuckled. “You were in a tight spot.”
“It could still happen.”
“Let’s wait until they shove a plane ticket in my face before we panic. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Most of the seats around them were taken now. But the head honchos hadn’t gotten onto the plane yet. When Silas did, all the other players clapped.
Georgia yawned, wondering whether she could fall asleep during the two hour flight. But Leo fidgeted in his seat. And that really wasn’t like him. “You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. But there’s something I need to get off my chest.”
That woke her up fast. “Really? What?” When she turned her body to face him, she saw Becca do the same thing across the aisle, curiosity on her face. Whatever Leo had to say, Georgia hoped it wasn’t something too private.
He took a deep breath and let it out. “My timing probably sucks. But I just can’t wait.” He unclipped his seatbelt and rose from his seat.
“Where are you going?” Georgia asked. They’d be shutting the plane’s doors in a minute.
Leo turned around to face her in the aisle, then knelt down. Georgia squinted at him, on the verge of asking him if he’d dropped something, when Leo grabbed her hand. “There’s a real spark between us,” he said.
Was he . . . “Oh my God!” She clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Will you marry me this summer?” Leo’s big brown eyes sparkled up at her, waiting for an answer.
Georgia actually replayed his words in her head, trying to be sure she’d heard him correctly.
“I wish I had a ring,” he continued. “I always wanted to do this right. I had it all planned out once. When I was eighteen, I thought I wanted to take you stargazing in my truck and pop the question. But I don’t want to waste any more time . . .”
“YES,” Georgia said, shaking off her shock.
Becca gave a loud, shrieky squeal and Leo grinned widely.
“Holy fuck, what is happening here?” Castro demanded from the row behind them.
Someone started to clap, and then someone else joined in. The sound of applause rose as Leo stood up, then leaned over the seat to kiss her.
Georgia lost herself in the taste of happiness for a moment. Leo cupped the back of her neck and angled his mouth to fit against hers. But he began smiling so hard that he lost focus, and Georgia laughed. “Love you, babe. Always have,” he rumbled.
“Coach!” somebody yelled. “Looks like you’re paying for a wedding.”
“What?” her father’s voice barked, and Georgia stiffened. The plane got quiet.
Leo stood up slowly, his hand still a warm presence on her neck. He cleared his throat. “I should have asked you first. But I’ve always been impulsive.”
Georgia watched her father’s face cycle through the entire range of human emotion in about four seconds. Then it reshaped into its usual crusty visage. “Boys, you’d better make it to the play-offs. I’m gonna need that bonus money to throw a party. If you clear the semis, I’ll spring for the good whiskey.”
The jet erupted with laughter.
Leo sat back down, and pulled her into a hug. “You gonna be a bridezilla?” Leo asked.
“What do you think?”
“My girl doesn’t like a fuss. But I’ve heard that weddings make people crazy.”
She turned and hugged him across the chest. “I’ve sworn off crazy. Let’s hire a wedding planner and let her do everything.”
“Sounds good.”
It felt weird to cuddle Leo in public, but not weird enough that she wanted to stop. Though her phone, its top edge showing from the seat-back pocket, glowed a color she hadn’t seen before. Pink? That was odd. She untangled herself from Leo to take a look.
CONGRATULATIONS, the text read. —Nate.
“How does he do that?” Leo asked.
“No idea. He’s not on the plane, right?”
“Nope,” Leo agreed. “Didn’t see him at all at this game. Where does he live, anyway?”
“In a mansion on the promenade in Brooklyn Heights. He takes the ferry to his midtown office and walks to the Bruisers HQ. It’s a good setup he’s got. Can we stay in Brooklyn?” Georgia asked. “I like it there.”
“Sure, baby.” He tucked an arm around her. “Maybe I’ll take Silas’s apartment for real when the lease is up. I guess I should have thought that through.” He laughed. “I’m kind of impulsive. Should I have waited to propose until I had a ring?”
“No!” She buried her face in his collar. “I’m sick of waiting.”
He gave her a squeeze. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
THIRTY-FOUR
2:45 PM, MONDAY, FEBRUARY 29TH, NHL TRADE DEADLINE DAY
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK
TOP STORY
“Area Teams Make Last-Minute Roster Adjustments Heading Into Play-offs”
—The Daily News
The official trade deadline was three o’clock PM, Eastern Standard Time.
Georgia no longer worried that her father would trade Leo just out of spite. In fact, it looked as though her office wasn’t going to be issuing any big press releases today. Though Hugh, her dad, and Nate were cloistered in Nate’s office, taking any last-minute trade calls from other teams, it didn’t seem that they were making any big adjustments. They’d traded one of their AHL players from Hartford to Anaheim in exchange for a second round draft pick.
She’d sent out that press release an hour ago—the new guy hadn’t started yet, so she was the one on duty. But the trade wouldn’t make the front page of the sports section, as the Rangers and the Devils had more interesting trades to report.
Still, Georgia sat at her desk, keeping up the vigil. Until three o’clock, anything was possible. Even Leo could still be traded if the other team offered something advantageous. That unlikely scenario would not make Georgia happy, but now she knew it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
They’d decided to get married on July 4th, a
Privately, Georgia imagined she might pray for her own death if it took four months to buy an outfit for a single day of her life. But she’d let Becca have her fun, at least for a little while.
She took her ten-millionth glance at the clock today, noting that there were only a few minutes left until Leo’s postseason slot on the Bruisers’ roster was official. When her e-mail dinged a minute later, she leapt on the message. But it wasn’t from Hugh or anyone in the organization. It was from Hockey Hotties.
Dear Miss Worthington, attached please find the proofs from our photo shoot on February 9th. Please have each athlete approve the pictures before March 7th.
She clicked on the attachment and her screen filled with the most amazing photograph. Leo, skin and muscle shimmering in luminous icy light, his powerful thighs outstretched as he skated past the camera.
Georgia just stared at the unforgettable photograph of her fiancé. And she was supposed to let the world have this shot of him? She flipped to the photo of Castro, which was also glorious yet tastefully captured. She closed that picture’s file, though, because it felt weird to gawk at the bare butt of someone she worked with.
Leo, though. He still filled her screen with his beauty. It made her want to run out of the office and find him right now.
“Hey,” someone said from the doorway.
Georgia startled at the sound of her father’s voice. She clicked so hard on the mouse to close the photo that her thumb cracked. Then she turned to face him as casually as possible. Had her dad seen? Did he notice that she’d been staring at Leo’s naked body on her work computer?
“Hey,” she squeaked, and then focused on the real problem at hand. “Why are you here? Is there another trade on the table?” One that he felt the need to tell her about himself? Her heart made the sign of the cross while she waited to hear what he’d say.