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Fuck.
Now it was more important than ever to make this work. I couldn't let my dad and the Hawks get phased out by some rich assholes. Even as I followed her inside, I was on my phone, searching for the New York Ghosts and what unraveled there.
Apparently, it wasn't a buried secret. The players that remained were all over social media calling the others sellouts and traitors. The new arena was now one of the biggest non-NHL rinks in the country, and the other had recently been turned into a kids’ fun zone, no ice to be found.
My heart broke at the thought of our family's legacy being stripped down to a glorified playground. I knew damn well that most of the guys here wouldn't leave to go to the bigger rink. They were loyal.
At least I hoped so.
"Macy," Tate hissed. I looked up to see my three guys standing at the end of a line. The entire team was now shirtless, just wearing pants and she was slowly oiling their abs and chest one by one. Not one of them looked like they were enjoying it but her.
"Oh hell no," I growled, walking up and sticking my hands in her oil tub without asking. She gave me a horrified look that I didn't bother to give attention to and went to Brock, Elias, and Tate who were grinning like fools. I smudged a bit on each before taking my time spreading it around their broad shoulders, pecs, and abs. My cheeks burned and I tried to keep as professional as possible.
"I'm done over here, I can help," she tried to offer, heading for Tate but I moved in front of him.
"Don't touch them," I said. My voice wasn't rude, but stern. She let out a fake laugh and stepped away, hands up.
"Guess those rumors are also true," she said, looking down her nose at me. She reminded me more ofProfessor Umbridgein that moment than the cheerful woman she was when she arrived.
"They are," we all said at once, making the rest of the team laugh.
I finished with them quickly and let her take back over, directing them through a variety of poses. At least in the end she was doing her job and not spreading more rumors and gossip.
Until she wasn't.
She was getting more bold with each player, her touches no longer innocent.
"That's not necessary," I told her as she grabbed Adams by the hips and turned his body, nearly making him trip. If he did, his ass would be pressed right into her front. What the actual fuck? She reined it in a bit now but didn't bother to even look my way.
When she got the front line in place, it got even worse. She was being overly touchy with Tate, Brock, and Elias as she got them into poses. It wasn't just me being a jealous girlfriend, the smirk she threw my way made it obvious this was her putting on a show for me. She'd cooled it with the team but was using them to rile me up.
Brock removed her hand from his pec and glared.
"I don't think that's necessary. I can follow instructions," he said. She was unfazed, continuing to put her hands on them to pose despite being told to stop several times.
As she finished the solos and started to pose the group, she put her hand on Tate's hip. I saw the way he froze, flinched, and gritted his teeth.
That was it for me.
"If you can't keep this professional and keep your hands to yourself, I will have no issues spreading around to our local teams that you are unprofessional and not afraid to sexually harass the players. We have a job to protect our team," I said. Heavy footsteps sounded behind me and I turned to see Dad walking up. She plastered on a smile and waved me off.
"Oh, you know this is all part of the job, no matter how the girlfriends feel," she said. It came off condescending and I narrowed my eyes, ready to bitchslap this lady right into the ice. Before I could step forward, Dad did, his eyes holding an equal amount of fury. She tried to continue to play innocent even with him. "You know how these young girls get."
Her fake laughter was cut off as he spoke.
"Don't touch my players. If you can't communicate properly with your words, maybe you shouldn't hold this particular job," he said evenly. Her mouth fell open, apparently expecting to get away with it. How many times had she done this? Fucking creep.
Dad stood vigil as she finished her job. It took her two hours from start to finish to photograph all of the guys on the team, some in groups and others as solo. When she finally declared the end, the guys practically ran to the locker room.
"I'll have the calendar shots set up and sent off to the printer within a week. Expect a package then," she said, not making eye contact with me as she loaded her stuff. Dad nodded once before leaving her on her own to carry the crates back to her van. She didn't protest, cleaning up and leaving the rink quickly.
I was still standing there in shock when the team made their way out of the rink to head home.
"Thanks for that," Adams said. "She did a shoot for me when I was in the AHL and she was the same. Guys warn each other about her."
"She won't be back again," I promised him with a weak smile. The entire day left me stressed, tense, and sick to my stomach.
"Hey, you okay?" Elias's arms went around my middle and he pulled me against his hard chest. "She's gone now."
