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“No,” I blurt out, as if I have a say in any of this. But the last thing I need is her stupid, beautiful face in the stands when I’m trying to concentrate on the game.
“Negotiable,” Coach counters.
“Good, because I hate hockey,” Eloise says without a trace of humor.
When she looks up and finds us all glaring at her, she puts on a smile. “Just kidding.”
“You’re not kidding,” Dallas says to her, then to the rest of us, “She’s not kidding. She really does hate hockey. But it’s fine. This job is about people, not hockey.”
“Well, it’s a little about hockey,” Coach Turnrose says. “Maybe watch a game or two.”
“I can do that,” she says.
Coach nods, then slides a folder toward Eloise. “There’s some paperwork in here that you’ll need to fill out to get paid, along with information on how to get your ID badge, that sort of thing. You’ll have to stop by the HR office. Talk to Beverly—”
I tune him out.
I shut my eyes and put my hands on my head. They’re really doing this. They’re hiring this woman to be my . . . what?
“What are we calling her?” I interrupt.
It’s not until everyone looks at me that I realize I’ve asked the question out loud.
Eloise’s eyes seem to be twinkling as she says, “Most people call me Eloise, but I’ll also answer to Your Honor, Princess Eloise, or Lady Hart.” She cracks a smile.
I manage not to, though I admit, I have to work at it. “Her job title? What is she?”
Her smile fades.
“I’m thinking ‘personal assistant’ makes the most sense,” Coach Turnrose says. “Even though your duties aren’t as straightforward as most assistants’.” He gives Eloise an apologetic look.
“And how many other guys on the team have personal assistants?” I ask.
“Several of them, actually.”
“Paid for by the team?”
“Yes. Think of it as a perk,” Coach Turnrose says.
“I’ve never been anyone’s ‘perk’ before.” Eloise wags her eyebrows.
Dallas’s face tightens. “This is a special circumstance.”
“Because I’m a jerk, right?” I scoff. “With a bad reputation?”
She smiles. “Well, that’s a horrible way to talk about yourself.”
“Tell me that’s not what you think,” I say. “And you don’t even know me yet.”
There’s an audible silence as my words hang in the air for a moment.
Dallas clears his throat, and after a pause, he adds, “I was going to say it was because you’re a jerk with a reputation, but I like what she said better.”
“I seem to remember a time you had a reputation too, Burke,” I snap.
“You’re right,” he says.
“Nobody stuck you with an assistant.” I realize as I say this that Eloise is sitting right here, and judging by the drop in her shoulders, I’ve just offended her.
