Clusterpuck (Vegas Crush #9)

3. There’s a Nonfraternization Policy

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there’s a nonfraternization policy

Lila

Laura, Grant, and I are in a meeting with the public relations team. I’ve met most of them before up in the owner’s box at home games. Fiery redhead, Scarlett, is married to the big defender, Viktor Demoskev. They have a cute toddler and a baby—both boys I think. And the word on the street is that Viktor will retire soon.

My main job today is to take notes on the preseason PR plan, which Scarlett is laying out for Grant and Laura.

“Are there new players we need to onboard in preseason?” Scarlett is asking. “We usually do a deep-dive interview and a photo shoot. We do some teasers on social media and then we use the rest in B-roll and banners throughout the season. The sooner we can get those guys in, the better.”

“We brought two rookies to the taxi squad,” Grant says. “Johnny Marchessault and Axl Smith. Johnny is the son of Nic Marchessault.”

“Nic Marchessault, the NHL super-agent?” Scarlett asks while writing furiously in her planner.

“My super-agent also.” Grant sounds thoughtful, as if he’s choosing his next words carefully. “So, nobody repped by Nic, which includes me and probably a third of the league, wants little Johnny to have a bad experience this season. On his first introduction to the NHL. The whole league will be watching what we do with that kid. We have to do right by him.”

“Of course. But how about those cool names,” Scarlett says, still scribbling in her planner. “Johnny is such a fun hockey name, and when you have a last name like Smith, you might as well go full metal for the first name. Anything interesting about them?”

“They’re both right out of Tier 1 Juniors,” Grant says. “Axl is from New Jersey and Johnny from Quebec. I think the both of them are barely eighteen and won’t be coming off the squad this year, so the main plan is to have them learning from the other guys in practice, see how they grow. We’ve put them in together with a billet family here in Vegas that knows their parents and can keep somewhat of an eye on them.”

“They probably need it being away from home for the first time in a place like Las Vegas,” Scarlett says. “We can do some next-gen stuff with them, assuming they do okay. Anyone else?”

“We’ve also brought in Tripp Blackburn on a one-year contract. He just finished a long one with Anaheim.”

Scarlett raises a single eyebrow. “We don’t usually do that?”

“We’re doing a lot of things we don’t usually do wouldn’t you say?” Grant challenges.

Grant Gerard is stupid-handsome. Like, he could literally be the Dolce they’re so pretty.

“Fair enough,” Scarlett says. “What’s his story?”

“He’s been in the league for like eighteen years,” Laura says. “Solid player. He mostly centered the second line for the majority of his time in Anaheim, played the wings too, in New York and Nashville. A talented forward with a career’s worth of experience.”

“Sixteen years.” Everyone looks at me, and I shrug. “He played two years at Boston College. New York plucked him out of there when he was twenty.”

Laura looks impressed at the data recall, and it makes me feel like a fraud. I mean, I know hockey and I know these kinds of stats and backgrounds for most of our guys, but I obviously know this particular player better than most.

“Has he ever won a cup?” Scarlett asks.

“No,” Grant answers. “He’s hungry for it, though. He planned to retire, but Max suggested we balance the young guys with some maturity and consistency.”

“So, you’ve got this older player out here in the desert trying for his last possible chance at glory,” Scarlett says, again taking notes, talking mostly to herself. “That’s a good story. I can work with that. People will love it.”

For some reason, the idea of Tripp here fantasizing about winning a cup nearly makes me laugh out loud. As it is, I barely conceal my smirk, but my eye roll does not go unnoticed.

“Lila?” Laura asks. “Something we’re missing? You don’t approve of this plan?”

I feel my cheeks go hot. I’m not here to talk or have an opinion. I’m just the intern. “Sorry,” I say quickly, cringing inside. “It’s a good plan. I like it.”

“But?” Scarlett asks.

“No, there’s no but . I grew up around Tripp, and our families go way back. I thought he was retiring, is all.”

“He was,” Grant says. “I’m hoping he can help mentor Marchessault and Smith this year to help jumpstart their development.”

I’m careful to keep my mouth shut and my expression neutral. I’ve already overstepped, and I sure as heck don’t need my new bosses thinking I’m some know-it-all. Or worse, that I’m some wide-eyed little girl with a crush on one of the players.

The meeting breaks a few minutes later. As I’m gathering my laptop and notebook, Grant and Laura head off, but Scarlett hangs back. “So, what’s the situation, Lila?”

I turn to her. “Situation? I’m not sure what you mean.”

She snorts. “Nice try. I can tell there’s more to the story with this Blackburn guy. You have zero poker face.”

“There really isn’t, Scarlett. His family is super close with my family. I’ve known him since I was really young. He’s kind of an ass, if you must know.”

Scarlett grins. “Most of these guys have been colossal asses at some point in their lives or careers. You read the gossip pages, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t think he’s like that. He’s kind of a loner, doesn’t party a lot. He’s just…well, let’s just say his viewpoints about women are old-school.”

“I’m a firm believer that guys grow when they come here.” Scarlett gives a sharp nod at me. “Tripp will, too.”

“He’s pushing forty.” I shake my head right back at her. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Keep the faith, girl,” she chirps with a grin. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. People can change and they can surprise you. And here? It happens more than usual.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” I think of all the stories that have come out of this team. Crush players who’ve found the straight and narrow and really settled into great careers since they’ve been here. “A lot of these guys have notably turned their game around since they’ve been with the Crush.”

“Their games, their lives…” Scarlett is still grinning. “My husband was supposedly quite a piece of work before I met him.”

“They don’t call your husband ‘The Mad Russian’ for nothing.” I can’t help laughing. “He’s still a brick wall, though.”

“Well, he’s a brick wall who doesn’t pick fights anymore. And he’s a brick wall who comes home to his family at night instead of out to a club.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, so I just smile at her and say, “I’m glad for you both.”

“I’m just saying, maybe there’s hope for Tripp yet.”

“Maybe.” I lift a shoulder. “He’s a cowboy. Always been a cowboy and always will be a cowboy forever. And honestly, he’s not one to be out in the clubs a bunch—at least, not that I know of. He mostly keeps to himself. His play is good. Not All-Star team nominations every year good, you know, but solid. Consistent. He’s made some very good money. Things have been working out just fine for Tripp, so why would he bother to change?”

“Maybe he just needs the right woman to help him with that.” Scarlett frowns and cocks her head. “Or man? Maybe he’s not into women?”

“He’s straight.”

“Well? She’s wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“No thanks.” I say it too quickly and feel my cheeks overheating.

“You think he’s cute,” Scarlett singsongs.

“He’s like an annoying older brother. Way older. Too much older.”

“Pssh.” Scarlett waves away my statement with a flick of her wrist. “That stuff barely matters.”

“There’s a nonfraternization policy. I remember signing it earlier.”

She scoffs. “As if that’s stopped anyone from getting together with their person in this place. Your grandfather is a total sucker for a good romance.”

This makes me laugh. My grandfather talks all the time about how he met my grandmother Jayne when he was twenty and knew he’d never love another woman that way again. I thought it was silly and overdramatic, but he never strayed. He doted on her until the day she died of cancer, and despite being very handsome and very wealthy—aka hot property—he has never shown an interest in finding someone new.

“Well, Scarlett, I’m not here for romance. And I don’t know what Tripp is here for. Frankly, I don’t care.”

“I think you do,” Scarlett says with her eyes lowered like she knows all the secrets, “but I’ll leave you alone about it. For now .”

An eye roll is all I can manage for now . I can’t do this conversation with a person I barely know, a person I work with. This is meant to be a professional experience, not a sorority house.

“Well, you let me know what you need for your PR plan, okay?” I change the subject and walk out into the hall.

“Will do,” she says behind me. I’m halfway down the hall before she yells, “Remember, this place is magic. You’ll see.”