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At eleven-thirty, I left Whittaker, got my notes from the Observer office, and trudged over to the arena, psyching myself up with deep, steady breaths and an internal mantra.
Everything will be fine. He can’t do anything to hurt you.
One of the assistant coaches—Jeremy Packer—met me in the lobby. Over the last several weeks, he’d become my main contact in the Blades staff. He was eager to provide any information I needed, and he was always happy to show me around before and after games or interviews.
“You know, I think your features have been working,” he said, grinning at me as we stepped through the passage on our right. “Ticket sales are way up compared to last year.”
“I think your social media team might have something to do with that,” I said, returning his smile. “They’re great.”
“Yeah, they are, but everything helps. Your newspaper has definitely contributed.”
“Well, you know what they say. It takes a village to raise a young hockey team,” I replied, raising my brows.
Jeremy chuckled. “You’re funny. I can see why they like having you at the paper.”
“Thanks.” I paused and tilted my head. “Er, are we going to the rink?”
We usually turned left toward the offices when I visited, but Jeremy was currently taking me in the opposite direction.
He nodded and glanced at his watch. “You’re a little early, so the guys are still out on the ice,” he said. “They have a morning training session every Friday. But they should be done soon. It’s almost lunchtime.”
The enormous ice rink appeared in front of us at the end of the passage, and I rubbed my arms as the air grew frostier. When I spotted Paxton messing around with some of his teammates on the far right side, a shiver ran down my spine; one which had nothing to do with the cold.
“Cole!” Jeremy shrilled his whistle. “Get over here!”
Paxton skated over and trudged off the ice, blue eyes locked on me. The chill of his stare went straight to my core.
“This is Sienna McConville from the college paper,” Jeremy said, motioning to me. “She’s here for your interview.”
Paxton’s lips curved into a smile. His eyes remained cold. “Nice to meet you, Sierra.”
Anger rose in me, so fast and volcanic that it felt as if it might lift me right off the floor. Was this asshole seriously pretending he didn’t know who I was?
“It’s Sienna,” I said, staring up at him. I refused to be the first one to look away. “We’ve met before.”
I knew I probably shouldn’t have admitted that in front of Jeremy, because I didn’t want anyone to figure out my true identity, but I couldn’t stop myself. I just hated Paxton so much. How dare he act like he couldn’t even remember my name after everything he’d done to me?
Jeremy grinned. “Why am I not surprised to hear that?” he said. “This guy probably meets a hundred girls a day.”
An unfamiliar pang gnawed at my insides. Jealousy?
No, of course not. I had no reason to be jealous. Paxton was obviously free to see and sleep with whoever he wanted. I just hoped none of those girls ever had to witness or experience the same side of him that I once did.
“I hope he didn’t sleep with you and never call you again,” Jeremy went on, lifting a brow. “That would make this whole thing pretty damn awkward.”
Well, he did penetrate me, I thought, inwardly grimacing. Five times with a hunting knife.
“No, nothing like that,” I said stiffly. “We met a long time ago.”
“Ah, right.” Jeremy clapped Paxton on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve set aside my office for you two. Let’s go.”
We headed away from the ice, down the lengthy passage that led to the arena offices. Jeremy unlocked his door and ushered us inside. “Here you go,” he said, giving me an amiable smile. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be right next door.”
He left the room, closing the door behind him, and I quickly pulled my notes and phone out of my bag. Paxton had already settled in the chair behind the desk, fingers laced behind his head.
“This interview will be recorded, and the data from the app uploads straight to my cloud account,” I said stiffly, holding up my phone. “So the only person who can permanently delete it is me.”
I always had to tell subjects about the recording for journalistic purposes, but in this case, it was more of a warning. There’ll be evidence if you try anything, and you can’t get rid of it.
