Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“How were you with Oskar? With your interactions.”
“Ah …” He folds his arms. “Professional, I’d say. Why? Did he mention something?”
“No, nothing like that. Did you ever—I don’t know—ask how his day was?”
“I tried to talk to him as little as possible. The less I talked, the less he talked, and a quiet Oskar is the only kind I want to deal with.”
I completely understand where he’s coming from and feel like shit because of it.
“Why?” he asks.
“I get the feeling he’s lonely.”
Keerson lets out a skeptical choking sound. “Lonely? That guy? I’d ask if you’ve seen all the same footage I have, but you’re the one who showed it to me. He’s rich, reasonably famous, and gets as much dick as he likes. Where’s this coming from?”
“Maybe lonely isn’t the right word. Isolated? He doesn’t have a safe space to be himself? Just a feeling I get.” And if he’s playing a part every day, I can only imagine how exhausting that must get.
“Nah, no way. He’s manipulating you. It’s what he does. Everything you see is all that man is.” He lowers his voice to a mock whisper. “Don’t let him sense weakness. He’ll devour you.”
My immediate thought is how much I’d like to devour him, but I push it away. It’s not helpful, and I’m trying not to think of Oskar that way.
I thank Keerson for his help but decline lunch. “I need to be done here by the time they finish practice to pick Oskar up.”
“You his chauffeur now too?”
“Every good babysitter knows you don’t allow children to drive themselves.”
“Fair point. Okay, well, will you be around tomorrow? I’ll pick something up, and we can eat here.”
“I’ll text you.”
Keerson nods, then taps the doorframe on the way out.
I turn back to my computer and the emails I’m quickly falling behind on. Who would have thought that trailing around a hockey star you want to sleep with would be detrimental to productivity?
My lips twitch as I remember Oskar’s ridiculous bathroom show. After buying the headphones, he did away with the theatrics pretty fast, and the sounds he makes when he’s not focused on performing are criminal. I only made the mistake of shifting my headphones to listen in once before I worked out very quickly what a terrible idea it was.
And if I want to switch to full-on professional mode, I need to do better than that.
As I’m skimming the subject lines to check for anything urgent, an email arrives from the team owner himself. With the subject Oskar Voyjik.
I know I’m not going to like whatever it says before I even open it, and when I see the words “progress report,” my suspicions are confirmed.
I take my now lukewarm coffee with me and head for his office.
Technically, I’m doing my job. Oskar hasn’t been in a single scandal since I took over, but assigning him a babysitter isn’t a sustainable option when I have a whole team of players I need to keep my eye on. No. For this to work, Oskar has to actually want to change, and even after getting a peek at that softer side of him, I’m not convinced it’s something that will ever happen.
Mick Alcott, child star turned business mogul turned hockey team owner, is perched in his office on the top floor. San Jose has a huge redevelopment plan in the works for a new arena and management offices that should be coming in the next year or two. I can only hope I’ll be around to see it built.
“Mick,” I say, forcing a relaxed tone. “Got a minute?”
He gestures to the chair across from him, so I enter and close the door behind me. “I assume you’re here about Voyjik?”
“Who else?” We share a short laugh, and while that twinge of guilt tugs at me for joking at Oskar’s expense, the last thing I want is Mick thinking I’m getting close to him. “I thought it would be easier to go over it in person than in an email.”
“I can’t believe you stepped in yourself.”
“I know.” I drop down into the offered chair. “But he’s a handful, and my guys couldn’t stay on top of him.” It’s almost painful to get that much innuendo out with a straight face.
Mick makes a thinking noise, clearly hesitating over something.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, yes … Well, it’s unorthodox for you to be living with him, isn’t it?”
“Highly. Believe me, it wasn’t my first choice.” We share another of those short laughs. “Unfortunately, Voyjik being left unsupervised is like a red flag to a bull. I’ve already caught him sneaking out and had to literally drag him back home again.”
Mick runs a hand through his thinning hair. “What do we do here? He’s our best player, and between us, we can’t afford to get rid of him. With where we’re sitting on the table, we have a good chance at playoffs, but without Voyjik, we can kiss that goodbye.”