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He frowned and nodded once. "They're good guys. Just be careful, Mace."
"I will. Promise," I said, giving him a quick hug to end this terrible conversation then rushed inside. He'd found someone to come in and clean, so the rink was practically shining as I wound my way to the office to tuck my bag away behind lock and key. There were two hours before the game and I groaned, disappointment flooding me at the thought I'd have to be running the concession stand again.
A knock on the door had me turning.
Brock poked his head in, giving me a smirk before waving his phone.
"My friend came through, she's on her way. Keep an eye out for Sam," he said excitedly.
"Sam?" I questioned, my voice sounding off. Inside, I was dying a little. Who was Sam?
He let out a dark chuckle and came toward me, his hand resting on his hip as he dipped down to meet my gaze.
"You're jealous. Why don't you give in so I can remind you every day how much I want you?"
He was begging at this point and I swallowed hard, finding it impossible to find the words to push him away again.
Thankfully, footsteps in the hall did it for me. He closed his eyes for a second and stepped away before walking out.
"Hey, Coach, just telling Macy I'm sending a prospect for the chef position your way," he said easily before slipping into the locker room. Dad rounded the corner, eyebrows raised.
"I'm getting you your own office," he grumbled, dropping into his seat. "Is this person a good candidate?"
"Not sure yet, she's on her way. I'm heading up now to meet her. Maybe a miracle will happen and she'll start right now," I said with false hopefulness. He gave me a salute before I turned and left the office like there was someone chasing me. This was getting more awkward by the minute. Getting me my own office was a dangerous prospect but one I would welcome with open arms.
Fuck, now all I could think about was three sexy hockey players fucking me on my desk. I needed to rent a hotel room and bring my vibrators at this point.
Or just give in.
ChapterTen
Macy
Adamn miracle occurred. Sam had waltzed through the front doors and handed me a business plan on a silver platter. She had everything outlined from overhead costs, menu changes starting next week, ideas for promotional items we could look into such as signature cups and refills, and themed nights.
Dad loved her the moment he met her, handing over his own budget outline and melding the two together for something that worked. I watched, taking notes as Dad was in his element.
Sam and he shot ideas back and forth, amending the contract when necessary. She didn't even flinch that leftover food for the night automatically went to the team. Hell, she even offered to make sure there was enough to go around at the end of the game. Dad was more than happy when he shook her hand and they signed the contract. She even knocked her paperwork out.
She was ready to dive in headfirst.
Sam was adorable. She was taller than me, rocked her curves, and had this sexy, witchy aesthetic that drew attention.
I still wanted to know how Brock knew her, though.
When everything was hashed out, she turned to me.
"You have a game in an hour and a half, if you come with me to pick up emergency rations, we can make this work tonight."
Dad and I gaped at her.
"Tonight?" he clarified.
"That's when Brock said you needed me," she said, looking nervous now.
"I'm just shocked you can work that fast but we definitely need you," I admitted. "I've got an inventory list. Let's do this."
"Here's the company card," Dad told me, handing it over. "You're authorized on it. I added you when you came back."
