Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Why are you so extra? Hire movers? Who are you, the Rockefellers?” she asks and then holds up her hand. “I don’t want to know. What do you think of the office?”
“It’s an office.” I shrug my shoulders. “I’m sure you are going to make it less like a psych ward and more like a welcoming space for people.”
She throws her head back and laughs a full belly laugh. “Yes, I have Ariella coming in tomorrow to go over some plans.”
“That sounds great, and then we need to hire a couple of people,” I tell her and she looks to the side.
“Listen, I think we should start small.” She walks to the other side of the room. “I think we should hire one more person.”
“You think it’ll be enough with just two of you?” I run my hands through my hair. “I don’t want you to bury yourself in your work.”
“One of us can call around and speak to different organizations to see where we can offer help, and the other can call around and see which corporations can donate to our little foundation.” She cocks her hip to the side. “First order of business is a bachelor auction.”
“Fuck that. We know how the last one ended.” I shake my head as the phone in my back pocket rings. “That’s my alarm; I have to get to the rink. It’s the first day back.”
“Okay,” she replies and then claps her hands and shrieks, “How exciting is this!”
I open my eyes and try not to laugh at her. “I couldn’t sleep last night thinking of the excitement.” I pull the phone out of my pocket and turn off the alarm. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow after your meeting with Ariella.”
“Sounds good,” she says, “skate bag.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Still not using it right.” I laugh. “It’s bag skate and it’s a term when the coach is punishing us.”
“Whatever.” She uses her hand to shoo me away. “Go and leave me with my four white walls.”
“You settling in okay at your place?” I ask her of the two-bedroom apartment I rented for her without her knowing. She would never have taken the place if she knew the real price of the apartment.
“It’s gorgeous and it has its own gym and a rooftop pool.” Her voice goes higher. “And I know it’s not twelve hundred dollars a month, jackass.”
I laugh. “I have to go. I don’t want to be late on the first day.”
“Leave me if you must.” She turns and walks into one of the offices. “By the way, I’m taking this as my office.”
I don’t even bother answering her, instead I just walk out and head down to my SUV. I get in and put my phone in the middle of the cupholder as I head straight to the rink. I stop at the black garage door, before pressing the sunglasses holder on top of the rearview mirror. It falls down and I grab the white parking pass, sliding it in front of the scanner. The garage door slowly starts to open and I replace the card before driving in.
Cars are parked everywhere and there is the valet, Clive, waiting for us. He gets off his stool and smiles when he sees it’s me. “Look at who decided to join us,” he jokes with me as he comes over and extends his hand. “You look uglier than you did last season,” he adds when I shake his hand. I can’t help but laugh. “I thought they would have fired you by now.”
“It’s day one and you are already busting my balls.” I shake my head and look around. “Got to say, it’s good to be back.”
“Yeah, I’ll remind you of that when your old ass is limping to your car in December.” I slap his shoulder as I start to walk away.
“I know you will.” I walk toward the black stainless-steel door, pulling it open. Taking a step in, I look into the first office that has the door open, but no one is inside. I turn the corner and see a couple of the offensive coaches in one office. “Hey.” I smile and give a chin up. I walk into the office and extend my hand to each of them. “How’s it going?”
“How it always goes during training camp,” Zane states. He just joined the Warriors, so he’s still green around the collar since he’s so young. “It fucking sucks.” I laugh at them, knowing how hard it has to be to be the one who tells a hockey player that even though they probably gave their all, they are not going to make the final cut for the team.
“See you guys out there.” I turn and walk back out of the office. I stop when I see the equipment manager, Barry, putting out some of the hockey sticks. “You have mine?” I ask him and he nods his head. “I have the new one coming next week.”