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“Great. Looking forward to connecting,” I called after him, giving a little finger wave.

Two strong hands clamped onto my shoulders and spun me around.

“What the hell do you think⁠—”

An enthusiastic clap cut him off.

"Well, that was fantastic." The newcomer's bespeckled gaze flicked between us. "I was headed over to step in myself. Worried Josh might say something unsavory, but it looks like I had nothing to worry about.” He held out a hand for a shake, a friendly smile plastered on his face. “Tommy Schwartz, I’m the General Manager for the Stars, and you are…”

Monroe went rigid.

Huh, I’d thought the GM of a hockey team would be a little more…athletic looking? I’d have pegged him for someone’s accountant, not the man holding Monroe’s future—and mine—in his hands.

“Graciella Barrera,” I replied, taking the slightly clammy hand, surprised by his firm shake. “And I was just doing my job.” I smiled through the lie.

Tommy looked over at Monroe, brows lifted. “Oh, I…I didn’t know we had you on staff.” His cheeks reddened.

“We don’t,” Monroe bit out, crossing his arms.

I slapped a hand on his shoulder, hard enough to move him forward half an inch.

“Oh, stop it, Monroe. You’re so literal.” I shot him a look, hoping it properly expressed the importance of him shutting up.

He didn’t.

“She doesn’t work for the Stars.”

I needed to find him a muzzle.

“What he means,” I blurted, “is I don’t yet work for the team. But Monroe here was on his way to make an introduction. He would like to hire me as his publicist.” My smile was so wide my face hurt.

“No, Tommy, I⁠—”

“Oh, thank goodness, Monroe.” The GM pressed a hand to his chest, letting out a little laugh. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you’re taking this kind of initiative.”

Monroe hesitated, brows pinched. “You are…?”

“Gosh, yes,” he laughed. “When I saw you walking in, I was sure you were about to tell me something like, ‘I can do this all on my own.’ Which we both know is ridiculous.” Tommy’s smile spread from ear to ear.

Now wasn’t the time to shoot Monroe an “I told you so,” but he would definitely hear it from me later.

“We’ve already started outlining a strategy.” Ideas were stacking up in my head in case he asked for an example. “All we need is your blessing.”

Monroe turned his head toward me so fast I thought I heard a crack.

I ignored him, attention pinned on Tommy.

The guy’s eyes widened, brows peaking up over the tortoiseshell rim. “I’ll be honest, I was really worried there about how we were going to turn this all around. Our board is concerned that the bad press will affect our bottom line, and then, well, you know, we’d have to replace you if that was the case.”

Monroe’s jaw popped, knuckles whitening where they hung down by his side. The air shifted, growing tense.

I stepped in, hating the worried look on his face. Monroe was hot to the touch under my palm, and I had the oddest urge to press more of my skin to his.

“That won’t be necessary. We’ll have a full PR proposal ready for how we’re going to turn this around quickly.”

Tommy’s gaze slid back to me. “How soon?”

“Monday.”