Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
For a moment, he says nothing, but when he looks my way, I see it in his expression. A sizzle of excitement rushes through me. “This is a good team. I mean, it’s a damn good team.”
I let out a slow breath, my gaze returning to the ice. Callum and I are watching the scrimmages underway on the last day of training camp. We’re at the end of the tunnel that leads from the locker rooms out onto the ice.
At day’s end, the coaches will decide who stays and who goes.
They’ll have a good idea of which lines the players will land on, although that’ll shake out in the preseason.
I’ve purposely avoided asking Callum this question all week, afraid to get my hopes up. It’s not just a matter of me building a team that has playoff and Cup potential, because that equals money and this organization is a money-making business. It’s also about giving this city a team they deserve. The fans have been so loyal and dedicated following the crash, I want to reward them with the best.
“Ms. Norcross.” I turn toward my assistant, Tina. “Eddie Olmstead is ready for you.”
“Shit,” I mutter, looking down at my watch. “I totally forgot.”
I promised an interview with the local sports reporter. While I’ve given interviews to the national sports entertainment shows, I like giving the little guys access too.
“Want me to handle it for you?” Callum asks.
“No, I’ve got it.” I glance past Tina and see the reporter, his videographer right behind him.
Bringing forth my most welcoming smile, I move toward them and hold out my hand to Eddie. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Olmstead. May I call you Eddie?”
“Absolutely,” he gushes, accepting my handshake. He throws his thumb over his shoulder. “This is Deebo, my cameraman.”
I nod at Deebo, who smiles. His camera is situated on his shoulder, a tripod in his other hand.
“Would you like to go up to my offices?” I ask.
“Actually,” Eddie says as he glances toward the ice, “mind if we set up right here so we can capture the scrimmaging behind you?”
I look at the ice, my eyes drifting briefly over Drake in net. He’s such an impossibly big man, but you add the pads, and he’s a giant.
Admittedly, I’m dying to know how he’s been doing, but I can’t bring myself to ask about him specifically. I’m afraid Callum will see right through me, because what he’d see is a woman who, just yesterday in the workout facility, would’ve probably let Drake McGinn do anything he wanted.
The memory of it makes me flush, and I force those thoughts away.
Swiveling back to Eddie, I smile brightly. “No, I don’t mind at all.”
“Give us just a few minutes to set up,” he replies, and Deebo gets to work.
Callum moves off to the side so as not to get in the shot, and when I’m positioned perfectly a few feet from the glass, Deebo starts rolling.
I’m asked the usual questions—feelings about the crash, rebuilding the team, how we got knocked out of the playoffs. I get these questions so often, I’m on autopilot when I answer.
Except if anyone focuses on Adam. If I’m asked about my brother, I still get almost too choked up to speak about him, but luckily Eddie doesn’t push in that direction.
“Today’s the last day of scrimmages,” Eddie says and glances at the ice behind me. I look back over my shoulder briefly for a fond scan of my team, then back to the reporter. “What can the fans expect?”
I beam at the camera. “We’ve brought together an amazing array of talent. Many of the players who came up to form our new team from last season, and some prime trades we made over the summer. It’s always a good problem to have—it will be difficult making our cuts.”
“Do you see playoff potential?” Eddie asks.
“You saw us make the playoffs last season.” I give him a chastising look. “What do you think?”
Eddie laughs, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “I don’t think I’d bet against you at all. Now, you’ve made some bold decisions in the past by bringing a few veterans out of retirement. Gage Heyward was pivotal last year, and now he’s on the coaching staff. But talk to us about Drake McGinn. He’s been off the ice for a year… does he have what it takes?”
He tips the microphone for my answer. “I’ve not been watching camp closely, and that’s a question better suited for Coach Oulett or Coach West, but I can tell you he was one of our acquisitions we worked hard to get. We have faith in him.”
The low door to the ice opens behind me, and I glance back to see the players coming off. I’m guessing scrimmages are over.
I use this as a good escape point. I step to the side to let the players move past us and hold my hand out to Eddie. “Thank you for the interview.”