“We can release him,” I suggest.

“Or tack him onto another deal,” Frank counters. I nod because that’s a good option for sure.

“So we also have Atkinson and Amedee,” I continue, hoping my voice stays neutral. I really had hoped I wouldn’t have to be doing this. I wanted Claude to prove me wrong and not let his bitterness and dislike of me affect his game, but his numbers have plummeted the past three months. I’ve also heard through the grapevine he’s stirring up a lot of shit. Luckily, Coach Pretore also had some misgivings about keeping him around, so at least Frank won’t think I’m targeting him because of Amedee’s attitude toward me.

“Before we make our final decision,” Coach Pretore says, “let’s get Alex Crossman in here and see what he has to say.”

I use the moment to stand up from the table and stretch. I don’t think it really matters what Alex says unless he has some information we don’t know yet, but I’m hoping he’ll at least confirm our choices. Once that’s done, we can start looking at the scouting reports and figure out who we want to try to cut a deal with.

Once Alex is seated and small talk is exchanged, I ask him, “You know we’re getting close to the trade deadline and we are looking at what we can do to make this team stronger. We’ve focused in on three players we are looking to cut, and we want your opinion. Of course this remains confidential.”

Alex nods. “Of course.”

Coach Pretore doesn’t waste any more time and just lays out their names. “Atkinson, Amedee, and Halik.”

There is no surprise on Alex’s face and he nods thoughtfully. “Atkinson I hate because he’s got a great attitude. I just don’t think he’s ready for this level of play. Halik I hate too…good guy but I think he’s done. Amedee is poison and unreliable. If I had to pick one out of the three, it would be him.”

Pretore nods, Frank scribbles on his pad, and I smile at Alex. “Thank you for your candor and for staying behind from practice today to talk to us.”

“No problem,” Alex says as he stands up. He hesitates a moment and then turns back to me. “Amedee…when you let him go…he’s going to react badly. It’s just a feeling I have. No offense, Miss Brannon, but I would suggest you have someone else in the room with you.”

Icy cold prickles break out along my spine over the serious intent in Alex’s voice. I nod at him with a polite but grateful smile. “Noted. Thank you.”

After Alex is gone and the door closes, my father says, “Make sure Frank sits in with you on each meeting.”

I cut a quick glance and smirk at my dad. He hardly ever interferes, but he’s taking Alex seriously, so I put his mind at ease. “Gladly. Now, let’s see who we want to acquire and whose ass we want to kiss to get it done.”

—
It took us the rest of the day to go through the prospects, but we finally came to an internal agreement on who we wanted and in what order we wanted to try to get them. Frank would go back now, make contact with agents for our top picks, and start negotiations for the trades. He was more than qualified to make the deals and set up league approval.

When we’re done, I congratulate everyone on a productive meeting. I was even gracious to Frank when he decided to bring up the goalie situation and hit Pretore directly. I tried and thankfully succeeded in not laughing when Pretore told Frank in no uncertain terms that he felt Ryker was the best choice for starting goalie. It became a little difficult, I’ll admit, not to puff up with ego when Pretore told me he was basing that decision not only on his thirty-plus years in this league, but he was very intrigued by my statistical analysis, and thinks that with Rinne and Reimer trades, Ryker’s stats will stand up much better than Max’s.

I walk back toward my office and my father tags along silently. I know he wants to talk about what just went down, but he knows better than to do it until we’re behind closed doors. I know my dad well…he’s practically ready to burst with pride that I handled my first trade deadline.

Before I even hit my office, I am overwhelmed with a delicious floral scent.

Gardenia, I think.

When I walk into my office, sitting on the corner of my desk is a massive flower arrangement. It has to be at least three feet tall and it’s filled with a variety of pastel colored flowers in pinks, purples, creams, and soft yellows. I see sprigs of gardenia and know my nose was accurate. My father has them all around his house so I know the smell well.

Turning to him, I wrap my arms around his waist and sigh. “You’re like the best dad in the world. But you really shouldn’t have. You had no clue if that meeting was going to turn out the way it did and then that would have been a complete waste of money.”

My father squeezes me and kisses me on top of the head. Chuckling he says, “Well, you’re wrong about a few things. First, I did know that meeting would go that well because my brilliant daughter was running it. And second, those flowers aren’t from me.”

I pull back from my dad and cock an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Ryker.

It has to be.

My dad releases me and gives a nod toward the flowers. “My little girl’s been keeping secrets from me.”

Oh, if only he knew.

I turn away from him and walk up to the massive arrangement. A card peeps out from the top with my name written on it. My father walks over and casually sits in one of my guest chairs. I take the card and walk around my desk as I open it.