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"Hmm." She places the phone face down on the sofa next to her. "You jealous?"
I scoff. "Not likely."
"You sure?"
I roll my eyes. "Of course, doofus. It's just—" I pop a shoulder. "I don’t want to be reminded of that photo, which is all over the internet. The worst thing is, Priest showed us the pic, and I threw a fit; and that douchebag looked all smug at having been proven right."
"Hmm." She places the tips of her fingers together.
"Okay enough, hmm-ing. If you have something to say, come out and say it."
She pretends to zip up her lips and throw away the key.
I scowl. "That’s not helping at all."
She widens her gaze.
"Spit it out already. You look like you’re about to burst."
"The two of you look mighty cozy together."
I scowl. "I already told you, it’s not like that."
"Okay."
"That’s it? Okay?"
"Sure. You can convince yourself it means nothing. I’ll go along with what you’re saying. For now."
"Okay, enough. Let’s not talk about this. I have a more pressing issue. I’m going to have to move."
"You’re moving?’
"I’ve been staying in a hotel paid for by the team, but Priest thinks it’s best all the team stays together in a shared accommodation."
She blinks slowly. "You’re moving into a house with a bunch of hockey players?"
"I know, right?”
“All the players under one roof?” She tilts her head. “Isn’t that a recipe for disaster? Won’t they get on each other nerves spending so much time together?”
“It’s not unheard of.” I purse my lips. “They’re a new team playing together for the first time. Other teams have had the benefit of playing together for years, while the London Ice Kings have only recently been formed. It’s important for them to bond together off-ice to strengthen their teamwork on the ice. And if there are any differences, it’s best for them to come out off the ice so they bond better on the ice. So, in a way, Priest is accelerating the situation, by putting them under one roof. Any differences will emerge very quickly and have to be ironed out before they get to the finals.”
“You think they’re good enough to make it to the finals?” Her expression is curious.
I choose my words with care. “I’m not a big fan of Rick, but from what I've heard on the circuit, while he’s been off the professional playing field, he’s still seen as a canny appointment for the post of captain.”
“So youdothink they’ll make it to the finals?” she asks with a smile.
“They’d better. My career depends on it.” I begin to rake my fingers through my hair before remembering that will destroy the bun I’ve put it up into. It’s important I appear neat and well-groomed. Only, it hurts my head when I use hair pins. It’s why I use hair ties instead. My hair looks tidy enough and it doesn’t hurt as much. Appearance is everything and the last thing I need is to look as frazzled as I feel inside. My stomach seems to have caught a permanent state of butterflies since I met that horrible man. All the more reason to pretend I have everything together.
Her features take on a considering look. “I understand the players living under the same roof to foster team spirit, but you’re the PR manager—”
“And I'm from out of the country, so it’s cheaper to provide me with lodgings in the same house as the players. Even the physical therapist is staying in the house. It’s helpful to have them on hand to supervise the gym workouts, as well as work on after-practice and after-game injuries.” I tap my fingers on my bag. “The coaches have been put in a house separate from the one the team shares, so they can talk strategy.”
“All that makes sense, but why do you have to be under the same roof as the players?” A wrinkle furrows her forehead.
“I have a very limited time to get to know the players well enough to be able to pitch them and build their profiles in the media. And Knight, the owner of the team, owns the building the players are going to be housed in, so I suppose it makes it economical. As long as I have my own room, I guess it’s going to be okay.” I raise a shoulder.
