Penalty for Boarding (Curves on Ice #3)

14. Olivia

OLIVIA

T he article and accompanying photos stare back at me from the GM's desk, each lurid detail and grainy image a punch to the gut. Humiliation burns through me as I take in the intimate shots of Calvin and I in his truck, our passion laid bare for the world to gawk at. Even with the blurred lines and fogged windows, it's painfully clear what we were doing. What should have been a beautiful, private moment between us has been twisted into cheap tabloid fodder.

And then there are the other pictures, ones of us outside the Pilates studio. Smiling, lost in each other. The captions speculate wildly about the nature of our relationship, painting it as something sordid and scandalous. Anger surges hot and bright in my veins at the blatant invasion of privacy.

But what stings most is the betrayal. The article cites an anonymous ‘source close to the couple’ who leaked details of our ‘obvious closeness’ during Pilates sessions. Someone in that class sold us out, and the knowledge sits like a lead weight in my stomach. Bitches.

“Dr. Angelo,” my GM's sharp voice cuts through the fog of emotions swirling inside me. “You want to explain what the hell is going on here?”

I force myself to meet his hard gaze, lifting my chin in defiance even as my insides quiver. “It's my personal life, sir. It has no bearing on my work with the Fury.”

“Personal life?” He scoffs, jabbing a finger at the offending tablet. “You're screwing a player from our biggest rival team! How can you not see how wildly unethical and unprofessional that is?”

“Calvin and I aren't just...” I swallow hard, hating the way he's reduced our relationship to something crude. “What I mean is, yes, we're together. But I would never let that compromise my integrity or dedication to the Fury. I resent the insinuation that I would ever breach the trust placed in me.”

“And I resent having my team dragged into your little soap opera,” he fires back. “Do you have any idea the shitstorm this is going to cause? The questions it raises about your loyalty, your judgment?”

I feel my temper spike, hands clenching in my lap. “My loyalty? Are we really going to question that after everything I've given to this organization? The countless hours, the sacrifices, the damn good work I've done patching up our guys and keeping them at the top of their game?”

I tick off examples on my fingers, the words pouring out in an impassioned torrent. “I've rehabbed career-ending injuries. I've improvised emergency surgeries in the middle of away games. I've poured my blood, sweat and tears into this team. And now, after all that, you're going to let one gossip piece make you doubt my professionalism? My ethics?”

The GM holds up a hand, jaw tight. “Nobody is questioning your medical skills, Dr. Angelo. You're an excellent doctor. The best we've ever had. But this...” He shakes his head, disappointment etched in the lines of his weathered face. “It shows a serious lapse in judgment. It's a conflict of interest that we simply can't tolerate.”

An icy fist of dread clenches around my heart. “What are you saying?”

He levels me with a look, his meaning clear. “I'm saying you have a choice to make. You can have your job, or you can have your little fling with Barrett. But you can't have both. The Fury won't be tainted by this tabloid nonsense.”

Tears sting my eyes, a potent mix of anger, hurt and heartbreak. How dare he force me into this impossible position, to choose between my hard-earned career and the man I love?

“It's not a fling,” I manage through gritted teeth. “What Calvin and I have is real. It's the farthest thing from nonsense.”

“Regardless, it's him or us, Dr. Angelo. You'll need to make a choice.”