Power Pucking Play (Chicago Blades)

6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Lexi

T wo days. Two long days pass and not a word from Gio.

I've texted the man enough times to be in stalker territory.

I'd tried everything from "Hey, are you alive?" to "If you don't answer in the next ten minutes, I'll have to assume you've been kidnapped by aliens."

Nothing. Zero. Zilch.

It's not like I expected Gio to suddenly want to sit on the phone and gab and gossip like besties. But I sure as hell didn't expect complete radio silence either.

I've been doing some digging on my own since our conversation at the bar, trying to find any information, any piece of intel about his life outside of hockey that I can use for this damn feature.

But it's like he's a ghost. There are no social media accounts, no public appearances or interviews, not even any paparazzi shots.

In some ways, it's almost as if Gio De Luca doesn't exist outside of the rink.

And yet, here I am, still determined to get this story done. Because let's face it, my boss hasn't given me an extension and I'm not about to lose my job over this prickly asshole of a hockey player.

I take another sip of my coffee, staring at the blank document on my laptop screen. It's just not coming together. I have bits and pieces, but nothing that ties them all together into a cohesive story.

As if sensing my frustration, my desk phone rings. I pick it up and, sure enough, it's my boss’ voice on the other end of the line.

"Brookes. Can I see you in my office in five minutes?"

"Sure thing, Charlie." I put the phone down and let out a deep sigh.

This can't be good. I've been dreading this conversation for the last two days of no reply from Gio.

Smoothing down my skirt and grabbing my notebook, I walk down the hallway to Charlie's office. As expected, he's sitting behind his enormous desk with a stern look on his face.

My carefully prepared speech dies on my lips when I see Gio himself sitting across from my boss, looking annoyingly comfortable in a designer suit.

I stop in the doorway, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell is he doing here?

"Ah, Brookes," my boss says, grinning. "Glad you could join us. De Luca here was just telling me about Sal Carmine's event."

I blink, caught off guard. "He was?"

Gio turns, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips. "Don't look so surprised, Brookes. I can play nice when I want to."

"Could've fooled me," I mutter.

"Have a seat, Brookes," Charlie says, gesturing to the chair next to Gio.

I reluctantly take a seat, feeling like I'm walking into a trap. "What's this all about?"

Gio gives me a small nod before turning back to Charlie.

Charlie glances at Gio briefly before answering. "Gio has agreed to do the televised feature. He was just telling me how impressed he was with your handling of the situation at the event."

My jaw drops. "He what?"

Gio smirks, clearly enjoying my reaction. "It was a great save, Brookes. I have to admit, you impressed me."

I'm speechless, my brain trying to process this unexpected turn of events.

"So," Charlie continues. "I think it's only fair that Gio has a say in how his story is told on the show. And since you two seem to make a good team..."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Is this really happening?

"Wait, so it's really happening?" I ask, still in shock.

Gio shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"Like a box of poisoned chocolates," I mutter under my breath.

Charlie ignores my comment and continues, "I thought it would be a great opportunity for both of you to work together on something positive. And who knows, maybe this will lead to more collaborations in the future."

I can feel Gio's eyes on me, waiting for my response. I know I should say yes, take this opportunity and run with it. But there's still that part of me that doesn't trust him, that wonders what his true intentions are.

In the end, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. "Of course," I say through gritted teeth. "This is a great opportunity and I would be honored to work with Gio."

Charlie smiles, clearly pleased with our response. "Great! We'll start planning the segment tomorrow. And Brookes, I'll need you to write a draft for Gio's interview."

Gio raises an eyebrow at me, silently daring me to try and sabotage his segment. But I won't give him the satisfaction. I'll do my job professionally, even if it means working with someone I don't trust as far as I can throw.

As we leave the meeting, Gio falls into step next to me. "Looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together," he says casually.

I keep walking, my high heels thudding against the carpeted floor. "I guess so. Though, it would have been great if you actually told me that we would be working together before springing it on me in front of my boss."

Gio chuckles, a deep warm sound. "Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see your reaction."

"You're lucky my reaction wasn't to 'accidentally' drop a cup of hot coffee on your lap." I glance over. "The thought is still tempting."

"Oh, come on, Brookes. I paid you a compliment by saying yes. Really. I liked your writing style and thought it would be a good fit for what you have planned."

I turn the corner, almost to my office. "And you couldn't just email me or call me back like a normal person?"

"I like to keep things interesting." He pauses. "Plus, doing it this way gave me an opportunity to see your pissed-off face again."

I scoff and open the door to my office. "Well, now you'll be seeing me all the time. Lucky you."

As I sit at my desk, turning on my computer and going through emails, Gio lingers in the doorway. His tall, muscular body nearly fills the frame.

"Can I help you with something?" I ask, not looking up from the screen.

"Just waiting for you to give me whatever I need for this 'project' to begin.”

I pick up my desk phone. "I'm already on it." Hitting a few buttons on the phone, I call down to the intern's cubicle. "Hey, Sophie. Can you bring me the files for the new project on Gio? Thanks."

Gio watches me hang up before taking a few steps into my office. "Impressive."

"What is?"

"How you have everything under control. How you seem prepared for all contingencies. No wonder Charlie thinks highly of you." He leans against my desk, crossing one ankle over the other.

I shrug. "It's just part of the job."

"But you're good at it." His voice lowers, almost a whisper. "You're good at other things too."

My cheeks heat up and I look back down at my computer screen, pretending to be busy. Luckily, Sophie arrives, and I don't have to pretend anymore.

The twenty-three-year-old intern's blue eyes widen when she sees Gio standing in my office. "Oh, um, Miss Brookes, here are the files you asked for."

"Thank you, Sophie." I take the files from her, dismissing her with a smile.

Gio watches Sophie leave before turning back to me. "You have quite the effect on your intern. She practically ran out of here."

"That's because a big 'hunky' hockey player was standing in my office."

Gio chuckles. "So, you think I'm hunky?"

"No. But she does." I open the files and start going through them, trying to focus on work and not on Gio's flirtatious comments.

"So you're not affected by me at all?"

The question has a tone of challenge to it, and I can't resist looking up at him. My eyes glance up to meet his emerald gaze briefly. "Of course not. I'm a professional." I separate the files, extending a few documents his way. "By the way, here are the contracts. I'm sure your agent and lawyer have already been sent copies. Your team will look them over, sign them, and get them back to me by next week."

"Next week?"

"Sure. They've already gotten a copy of the contracts beforehand. I'm sure it'll be an easy decision for them to make." I clear my throat. "Just to remind you, I'll have full access to your games, practices, and personal life these next few weeks. I'll be interviewing you, getting to know your teammates and coaches, and basically shadowing you for the feature."

"Ah, so you'll literally be a bug up my butt." He winks, causing me to roll my eyes.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad."

"Depends on how you define 'bad'."

"Well, you're the one that agreed to this interview, Gio. Just remember that." I finish looking through the files and close the folder, placing it on my desk. "One might be suspicious about how just two days ago, you couldn't wait to get rid of me, and now you're all in."

Gio leans back against my desk, crossing one leg over the other. "I have nothing to hide. Besides, maybe I just realized the benefits of having a top reporter in my corner," he says, his voice neutral.

I snort. "Yeah, right. And I'm the Duchess of Cambridge."

"Well, Your Grace," he says with a mock bow, "I guess you'll just have to trust me."

"Trust you? That's rich coming from the guy who once told me I couldn't be trusted to report on a high school bake sale."

"Okay, that was a low blow. But in my defense, you had just written that scathing article about my 'unnecessary roughness' on the ice."

"It was the truth," I say, crossing my arms.

"Your version of it, maybe."

We stand there for a moment, the tension between us palpable. But then Gio breaks into a grin, his dimples appearing. "Relax, doll. I'm just messing with you."

I sigh out loud. "Look, if we're going to do this, we need to at least try to get along. I'm willing to call a truce if you are."

Gio considers this for a moment, then nods. "Truce. But don't expect me to start sharing my deep, dark secrets or anything."

I roll my eyes. "Please. I've seen your rookie photos. There's nothing you could tell me that's more embarrassing than that haircut."

"Aww, now you're just upset that I likely won't consent to braiding each other's hair and talking about our crushes."

"Yeah. As if I'd let those caveman hands anywhere near my hair."

"You already have." He grins, and for a second, I'm reminded of why half the women in Chicago lose their minds over him.

I'm reminded of that night —the way his hands felt tangled in my hair, the heat of his body against mine.

The calculated roughness of his touch and the surprising softness of his lips...

It's easy to remember all those enticing qualities about Gio De Luca. Until the second he opens his mouth and ruins it all.

I shake my head, banishing the thought. "So, five a.m. next Monday?"

"Don't be late, Brookes. I won't wait for you" He shakes a few dark strands of hair out of his eyes and turns to leave.

"Wouldn't dream of it, De Luca," I call after him. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't trip over your own ego."

As I watch him leave, I wonder what I've gotten myself into.

Two weeks with Gio De Luca. Two weeks of pretending that night never happened.

Two weeks of trying to see past the bad boy image to the man underneath.

This is either going to be the best story of my career or it will kill me.

Guess I better stock up on coffee. And maybe a helmet.

Something tells me I'm gonna need both.