“I may have filled him in,” she admits. “Just the basics.”
Zayden leans in, his expression shifting to something more serious. “So, the guys are giving you a hard time?”
“That’s one way to put it.” I reach for my wine. “Your teammates are acting like teenagers who’ve never seen a woman before.”
“To be fair,” Tori cuts in, “you are drop-dead gorgeous. That’s not an excuse—it’s just a fact.”
“It shouldn’t matter what I look like. I’m there to do a job.”
“No, you’re right. It shouldn’t.” Zayden runs a hand through his hair. “Grayson, especially, from what Tori told me. He’s… a lot.”
“He’s a pig,” Tori says flatly.
“He’s young and dumb, with too much money and not enough supervision.” Zayden sighs. “I’m not defending him; what he said was out of line. But the rest of them…”
He trails off, looking uncomfortable. I can tell he’s trying to find a way to express his thoughts without making it worse.
“Just say it,” I urgehim. “I can handle honesty.”
“Okay.” He leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Look, hockey culture is… different. We joke about everything. We tease each other constantly. Chirping is basically its own language—and it’s not just on the ice. It’s in the locker room, the gym, even the showers. Nothing is off-limits. Your gear, your haircut, your girlfriend, your mom—everything gets roasted.”
“Okay… So they’re treating me like one of the guys?”
“Kind of? In a really misguided way?” He grimaces. “It’s not an excuse. I’m not trying to make excuses. But most of them aren’t trying to be disrespectful; they just don’t know how to act normally. They see someone new, someone who—” He stops, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Someone who doesn’t look like the usual trainers, and their brains short-circuit.”
“So it’s my fault for being attractive?” I raise one eyebrow.
“No! God, no.” He holds up his hands. “It’s their fault for being immature idiots who can’t function like adults. I’m just saying… most of them are harmless. They’re not trying to make you uncomfortable; they just genuinely don’t know how to act. And they like turning everything into a joke.”
I never wanted to be someone’s joke. “That doesn’t make it easier for me to do my job.”
“No. It doesn’t.” He sighs. “I can talk to some of them if you want. Pull the veteran card. Remind them you’re a professional who deserves respect.”
“Would that help?”
“Honestly? Maybe for a day or two. Then they’d forget and go back to normal.” He pops a grape in his mouth, then looks at Tori. “Babe, should I…?”
“Go.” She waves him off. “We need to brainstorm, and you have an early practice.”
He stands, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t stay up too late scheming.”
“No promises.”
He squeezes my shoulder as he passes. “It’ll get better, Winnie. I promise.”
“Thanks, Zay.”
Then he’s gone, footsteps retreating up the stairs, leaving just me, Tori, and the wine.
She immediately refills both our glasses.
“The worst part is, Dana has actual metrics for this program,” I say. “Flexibility improvements. Injury reduction. If the guys aren’t taking the sessions seriously, I’ll never hit those goals. And if I don’t hit those goals…”
“You lose the job.”
“I can’t take another hit like that. Not after everything.”
Tori nods slowly. “Okay. Let’s problem-solve. What are our options?”
