1. Cleanup Crew

Chapter One

CLEANUP CREW

~~Muri~~

I 'm a one-woman cleanup crew after a social media disaster, and I'm not sure I'm up to it. The previous group exploited the team's hockey players to get social media likes and attention. They posted inappropriate images and suggestive descriptions of the guys to attract a large female following. Everything imploded shortly after the season ended, and the entire social media team was fired.

I've been on the job for about a week. While most of the players have left Portland for the summer, there are still several who live here full time, but they're avoiding me like I have a contagious disease for which there is no known cure.

Even my brother, the team captain, is avoiding me.

I've been recycling old images, but I crave new content.

Earlier today, I had a meeting with my boss, Addison Barlowe, who also happens to be the owner's granddaughter. She scares the crap out of me, and I'm not easily intimidated. After telling her my woes, she promised she'd get cooperation from the guys still in town, starting with our upcoming rookie star, Nolan Bellanger.

Now I'm waiting for Nolan to meet me to go over a series of media posts I have planned, interviews featuring our Icehawks Gold Partners, bars that pledge to show each Icehawk game on their televisions and as a result, are listed on the team's website as places to go to watch the games.

A guy walks in, and I instantly recognize him. Not only do I follow this team because of my brother, but I did my research. Nolan has an easy confidence in his stride and a ready smile. He's younger than my brother, Dash, but then Dash is a dinosaur when it comes to professional hockey players.

He's tall and muscled, but most defensemen are. His dark-blond hair is sun-streaked and in that faux messy style that probably took a half hour to get just right. His perfect face is accentuated by a striking pair of green eyes. Simply put—he's hot AF.

He pauses and surveys the room before his gaze lands on me. Those green eyes slide down my body and back up before he pins me with the full impact of his gaze.

I give him a little wave, and he nods, altering his course and heading for my table.

"Mary?" he asks.

"Muri, short for Muriel," I correct.

"Sorry, Muri." He grins and displays two rows of perfect white teeth. I briefly wonder how many of those teeth are original, not that it matters. Pulling out a chair next to mine, he sits down.

"I'm Nolan. Nolan Bellanger." He waits for my reaction, as if his name means something, and it does. Anyone familiar with hockey knows of the Bellangers. Nolan's dad is a Hall of Famer. His grandfather is the GM of a contending team, and his mom coaches college hockey. Nolan is the heir-apparent to the family dynasty. He was called up mid-season after an injury and played well enough he's considered a shoo-in for a slot on the team next season.

Addison selected him since he's still new enough to the team to cooperate with whatever we want, and she promised he has the personality to carry this off.

"Thank you for agreeing to take part in our project. My goal is for Portland to get to know you and your teammates better, while showcasing our Gold Partners."

"You're new," he says, ignoring my previous comments.

"I am."

"You're better looking than the last bunch we had."

"So my plan is—" He's irritating me, but I'm not going to let him know that.

"Yeah, I heard the entire social media team got canned," he interrupts again.

"It was pretty ugly," I agree, not wanting to talk about my predecessors. "But this is a whole new day. My mission is to build interest for the team within Portland and the surrounding area."

"I won't have to take off my shirt or do groin stretches for the camera?"

"No, you won't."

"Got it." He seems disappointed.

"Is that a problem?"

"I'm game for anything. I don't mind women drooling over my abs or enjoying my warm-up routine."

"That's nice, but we're keeping this PG."

"For the interviews, you mean?" His green eyes dance with mischief, and I realize he doesn't know my brother is the team captain. He's in for a surprise.

"Are you coming on to me?" I challenge him, and his eyes sparkle with mirth. Like most hockey players, he loves a good competition.

"Should I be?" He cocks his head and grins.

"Probably not, but don't stop now," I shoot back. His cockiness fades, and his eyes widen in astonishment. I laugh, loving that I got the best of him. "I'm joking. Just seeing how serious you are."

"I'm never serious. I'm all about the fun."

"I can see that."

"Personally, I liked the stuff the previous social media team was doing. I'm all about gaining more female fans. I'm not sure what some of the guys were so upset about. I thought it was fun."

"It stopped being fun when those female fans harassed the wives and girlfriends and subjected the players' families to sexually explicit remarks in private messages."

"Yeah, well, their big mistake was not asking permission. I'd have given it."

"Well, aren't you a good sport." Sarcasm seeps into my tone, but Nolan isn't discouraged.

"You're awfully young to be working for a professional hockey team."

"I didn't know age was a requirement. You can't be much older than I am."

"I'm twenty-four. You?" He shrugs and shoots me another brilliant grin. I almost need sunglasses in the bright light of his presence. Addison is right. This guy is perfect for rebuilding our image and flipping the negative attention into positive. Working off Nolan's blinding charisma, we might be able to keep some of those female followers without exploiting our players.

"Twenty-three, not that it matters." I look down at my notes, wanting to get this conversation back on track and out of the personal zone. "Let's get back to business."

"Aw, man, we were having so much fun." He gifts me with another five-alarm smile. I grimace even as my body purrs like a satisfied tabby cat.

"My plan is to have you interview one player a week at a different Gold Partner bar. I want the interviews to be fun and personal without being prying. I have a list of questions you can ask."

"I can't make up my own?" He makes a big show of pouting by jutting out his lower lip. I laugh in spite of myself. Nolan is impossible to resist.

"Certainly, but I'll need to approve any questions you come up with."

For the first time since we've met, the smile drops off his handsome face, but his frown doesn't extinguish his brilliance. If anything, it highlights his face in a different, but just as profound, way. Social media is going to eat this guy up, and all I have to do is showcase his beautiful face and cocky personality. He's practically a one-man resurrection crew when it comes to repairing the Icehawks' social media reputation and pulling it out of the gutter.

This guy is tailor-made for what I have planned. He's also easy on the eyes. If I don't watch myself, he'll pull me into his magnetic field, and I'll be one more of the fawning women orbiting his sun.

I don't fawn, nor do I kneel at any man's feet. Well, not in supplication anyway, which presents an interesting visual. An image of getting down on my knees in front of this magnificent specimen of male hotness sends desires rushing through my veins.

I mentally shake myself. This is business, not pleasure. Besides, if I hook up with an Icehawk, my brother will mess up that pretty face of Nolan's.

"How'd you get this job?" Nolan asks.

"I applied for it." Defensiveness came across in my tone. I've dreaded this question ever since I started working for the organization. Everyone automatically assumes I was hired because of my brother. Even I wonder at times if that isn't how I landed a plumb position with a professional hockey team right out of college.

"Here's a list of interview questions."

Nolan scratches his head and narrows his gaze slightly, as if trying to figure me out. Within a second, his cocky smile returns. I push a piece of paper across the table. He reaches for it, and his fingers brush mine. A jolt of electricity flows through my body, and the chemistry between us sizzles like a steak on a hot grill.

"You can pick and choose which ones you prefer to ask," I stammer before I manage to spit out the words. This guy has me discombobulated with one random touch.

He winks, and my face flares with heat, knowing I've given myself away. He knows he affects me, and he loves it. I study the notes in front of me as if they hold the key to world peace.

Nolan clears his throat, and I look up. His green eyes meet mine, and an involuntary shiver slides through me. He cocks a brow, as if he's noticed the chemistry between us, too.

"These questions are…lame. Like what's your favorite place to vacation? Boring. Who cares?"

"Lots of people care." I'm slightly insulted. I'm the social media person with degrees and all that crap. He should be listening to me.

"I think they're lame. Let's ask stuff no one else ever does. I'll come up with better questions."

"You'll need to run them by me first."

"Sure. Whatever."

I read between the lines. He's going to ask his own questions and not get my blessing. At least the episodes will be recorded, and I'll edit out the bad stuff, whatever that might be.

Nolan's phone buzzes, and he looks down at it. Standing, he smiles and reaches out a hand. "I gotta go. Contact me with the deets, and we'll do this thing. And don't worry, with me at the helm, the interviews will be a resounding success."

This guy doesn't have a humble bone in his body.

I stand and take his hand to shake it, but he holds it and gazes into my eyes. I want to pull away, but I can't. I'm mesmerized and completely under his spell—the last place I want to be.

"Good, uh, bye," I say as he releases my hand, which drops uselessly to my side.

"Later." He winks and saunters off.

I stare after him, unable to take my eyes off his backside with his nice ass and broad shoulders. He glances back and catches me gaping at him. Grinning, he blows me a kiss before the door closes behind him.