My Icy Hot Rebound - Book 1 Boys of Winter series (Sample only)

Chapter 1

"Never trust these boys. They're all a bunch of whiners. Always looking to get a few extra bucks out of me. The minute they start any trouble, I ship them off. No use keeping them around. One bad apple . . . well, you know how that turns out."

Allie scanned the ice and watched as the Falcons leisurely skated around the rink, warming up for an hour-long practice. A few shot at imaginary pucks while others conversed, playfully slapping each other's legs with their sticks, oblivious to their absentee boss sitting ten rows up.

"You see Baker standing near the bench all alone? He is the biggest a-hole. He had the audacity to tell me the boys wanted hot food after practice. What's wrong with sandwiches? They want hot food, they can go buy it. I pay some of these bums millions of dollars for what? To hear them bellyache about soup? They want soup? Go to a soup kitchen."

Allie listened, squirming in her seat and wishing she could evaporate, thankful none of the players could hear her uncle. She'd been on the job less than a week and already knew about the notoriously low Falcon morale. Hearing her uncle bitch about his players, the reason people came to games in the first place, said a lot. She loved Eddie like the father she'd never had, but working for him was like navigating a minefield. Sure, she was his niece and he loved her, but she didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of his tirades. To her, Uncle Eddie was the man who used to dress up as Santa, but Eddie Stewart, owner of the Falcons, was a jerk—a cheap, insensitive one at that.

"Who's the best player on the team?" she asked in hopes of diverting his attention.

Eddie grunted. "I like Glaser, he's not bad. He's a shit-disturber on the ice, so maybe that's why I like him so much. The only other one is Cavallo. Good Italian boy, tough as nails. Doesn't take shit from anyone. The others are useless."

"How could twenty other guys be useless? There must be a few more you like."

"Nope. None of them. Zero. Zilch. Nada."

Allie tapped a finger against her lip. "Really?"

"Really," he said without a doubt.

The best part of the job was how little her uncle would be around. He had his real business to worry about, and the Falcons were only a drop in the Stewart Empire bucket. Her role in the Falcons organization was that of a mole, to see what was going on when he wasn't around. Why he thought she'd be privy to anything baffled her. The head of hockey operations had already relegated her to an arm of the charitable division where there was only one other employee.

At first, she wanted to ask Eddie to find her another job, or gently persuade Dick Johnson, Director of Hockey Operations, to find her something more suitable, but the last thing she wanted or needed was for her uncle to do her bidding. No, she'd prove herself, work her way up and show Dick Johnson she wasn't hired because of her last name.

"Eddie, if you hate the team so much, why don't you sell it?"

Eddie's cocoa-colored eyes opened wide. "Sell it? I love this bloody team. It's the only business venture that I enjoy. It just needs some life. I haven't figured out where the problem is, and that's where you come in. I want you to see what these bozos are up to. I want to know why we put a shitty team on the ice year after year."

Allie smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles on her black slacks. She had a pretty good idea why the team couldn't put together a decent season, and he was sitting right next to her. "They've got me overseeing Falcon Foundation charity events with team wives and girlfriends. It's hardly a place to gather any intel."

"I can fix that with one phone call. What position do you want? VP of Operations? How about an HR VP? Nothing would get past you in that job."

"I'll keep the one I have. No patronage, please."