Page 17 of Hat Trick
“My sweet boy.” Mom pats my cheek and smiles. “Do you look at your father any differently because he lost a limb?”
“No. He’s a hero.”
“Your kids are going to say the same about you one day.”
“Kids.” I snort. “That implies someone is going to want to fall in love with this.” I gesture up and down my body. All of that—dating, friendships—seems like a far-off dream. “I’m a mangled and messed up piece of a human.”
“That’s what love is, Riley. No one ever said it was easy.”
“Easy.” I stare out the window at the people living their lives while I’m over here having an existential crisis. Teetering on the edge of a breakdown. “I don’t think anything is going to be easy for me again.”
NINE
LEXI
I’m so fucking late.
I’m going to blame my alarm I silenced twice this morning.
Goddamn Apple and their nine-minute snooze feature.
Shoving the last bite of bagel in my mouth, I tear into the conference room at the United Airlines Arena where I should’ve been five minutes ago, out of breath, sweaty, and wishing I wasn’t wearing jeans.
“I’m here.” I collapse in the first chair I find and dig through my purse for my water bottle. There’s a stitch in my side, and my lungs hurt. I do Pilates multiple times a week, and I thought I was in better shape than this. That run from the employee parking lot and two flights of stairs kicked my athleticism to the curb, and I’ve been humbled. “Sorry. Traffic.”
Stuart Klein, the Stars’ recently appointed Director of High Performance and my new boss, narrows his eyes.
I don’t like that look.
I know what that look suggests.
If you were a man, I’d laugh and say “no worries.” Since you’re a woman, I’m about to chastise you in front of everyone because no matter how hard you try, it’s not going to be good enough.
Fucking prick.
I’ve worked my ass off for my spot on this team. I’ve fought from the ground up, graduating with a degree in exercise science and kinesiology, then getting my master’s in athletic training.
I’ve outworked my male counterparts time and time again to claw up the ranks from the ECHL to the AHL and, eventually, the NHL. I’ve been knocked down, but I’ve gotten up. I’m proud to be the person in charge after just four years with the Stars. I’m honored to be the one who oversees other titles like Head Physical Therapist, Head Performance Coach, and Manager of Player Rehabilitation.
I deserve to be here, and I’m not going to let some douche who doesn’t know my work ethic think he has me figured out.
Thank god I don’t interact with him on a day-to-day basis.
I might be smiling sweetly on the outside, but inside, I’m hoping he chokes on his breakfast. I’m trying to figure out how to sneak laxatives into his coffee. I’m eager to show him howgoodI am at my job so I can saysee? Anything boys can do, girls can do better.
“Now that everyone is where they should be, we can start,” Stuart draws out.
Instead of rolling my eyes at his insinuation, I glance around the table to see who’s joining us today. This meeting has been canceled and rescheduled so many times, and the fact that it’s actually happening is the biggest surprise of the year.
Our owner and governor, Kirk, is here, along with our CEO, Jared, and the Stars general manager, William.
There are so many white men in this room that I’m worried the New Balance, high-waisted khaki shorts, and white socks stocks might drop while they’re all here.
Coach Saunders is across from me with his arms folded across his chest. The rest of the training staff fills the other seats, which leaves the last spot to…
Riley.
I haven’t seen him since the night of the accident, and my heart skips a beat when his eyes briefly meet mine. I try to give him a smile so he knows I’m here for him, that I’m on his side, but he looks away. He scowls, and the rejection stings.
