Page 129 of Top Shelf

Now that the event is over, guests start heading for the exit while stalls are broken down, and players around us take last-minute photos with some of the kids or are huddled up talking to one another.

The entire arena hums with the aftermath of a successful event.

A successful eventIran.

Several members of Valehurst administration approach from across the rink.

Oh God. Professional people. My favorite.

Dean Carver trails behind them, looking like he’d rather voluntarily skate into traffic than participate in this conversation. Which honestly boosts my mood considerably.

“Miss Winslow,” the dean of Valehurst greets warmly as the group approaches. “I wanted to personally congratulate you.”

I blink in surprise.

He gestures broadly toward the arena around us. “This weekend exceeded every expectation we had. Attendance numbers nearly doubled projections.”

“And the sponsors are thrilled,” another administrator adds. “We’ve already had three separate inquiries about expanding the event next year.”

“You handled the coordination beautifully,” the dean continues. “The organization alone was impressive, but the atmosphere you created?” He smiles slightly. “That’s much harder to teach.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “Thank you.”

“And securing participation from the Serpents organization?”One of the board members shakes his head appreciatively. “That kind of networking ability is invaluable in this industry.”

Behind them, Dean Carver’s jaw tightens hard enough that I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack.

Good.

The dean glances briefly toward Wexler across the rink before returning his attention to me. “I appreciate that, given who your family is, you’re probably destined to work in ice hockey, but in case you aren’t planning to, I wanted to encourage you to reconsider. All I have heard are glowing reviews about your work here.”

His remark catches me off guard.

“I…”

For a second, words fail me entirely.

Until recently, I’ve only been on this path because I was forced onto it. I neverwantedto do any of this. Work with a hockey team.Ownone. Not because it was something I thought I wouldn’t enjoy or because I thought I couldn’t do it, but because doing it meant surrendering. Letting my parents dictate my future all over again. Letting them shove me into the role they carved out for me before I was old enough to decide whether I even wanted it.

But standing here now?

Watching the aftermath of something I built from the ground up?

The answer doesn’t feel so simple anymore.

Before I can figure out how to respond, another familiar voice cuts in behind me.

“She’d be stupid not to.”

I glance over my shoulder to find Ronan approaching alongside Silas. They come to a stop beside Lucian and Carson, all four of them still partially geared up from the exhibition game.

Lucian hooks an arm over my shoulders without hesitation. “This woman bullied an entire NHL organization into rearranging travel schedules for a charity game on two weeks’ notice.”

“I did not bully anyone.”

“You absolutely did,” Carson says dryly.

Giving me an assessing once over, the dean remarks, “Something to consider, perhaps,” before shaking my hand a final time. Then he and his merry band of administrators move away to talk with some of the team’s senior management.