23. Emma

Chapter 23

Emma

" W hat is it?" Anna asks, falling into step beside me as I climb the stairs to my office.

"Fucking Highland Spirits want to reconsider turning down my meeting for a sponsorship."

Anna makes that face again, and I sigh. "But this is good news!" she says. "Why so glum?"

"Because they're dicks who made me feel like a pile of shit. Because they listened when Colin told them I was useless and a slut. Do I need to go on?"

She chews her lip. "Well, when you put it like that, no… but hear me out… with this leaked transfer news all over the local press still, and the plan to get small businesses on our side on hold, shouldn't you, maybe, consider going down there to hear what they have to say? Maybe?"

I throw her a death stare, which she doesn't even flinch at. "No," I spit out. "No, I shouldn't consider going down there." But even as I say the words, I know I'm cutting my nose off to spite my face and potentially hurting the team in the process.

"Did they say why they'd reconsidered?" Anna ventures.

"Yeah, because of Taran coming here. They were after sponsoring him at the Arrows and were in talks with Jeff Crooks for months. He was holding out for more money."

"Fuck," Anna whistles and glances down at the ice where Taran is enjoying his moment in front of the camera. "Fuck."

"Yeah. Like I don't have enough shit to deal with because of this transfer, now I've got to tell the team that the noob is bagging himself one hell of a sponsorship deal. Ads, the works."

"Jesus," Anna moans.

"I know."

We share a pursed-lips exchange where words aren't necessary to convey what a clusterfuck this is.

"You have to go down there," she says eventually.

"I know."

"Want me to come with you?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Now. I'll call them back."

She nods. "I'll go and tell Rebecca we've got something urgent to do, but she doesn't need us here. She knows what she's doing."

"Okay, thanks, Anna." I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze.

She shoots me a grin. "Always, bitch."

I watch her take the stairs quickly, and I heave a world-weary sigh and get those Bridge Jones' on while baking myself a humble pie. Dialling the number that called me minutes ago, I start talking.

"Hello. This is Emma Thornton. I apologise for my abrupt response earlier. I'd like to set a meeting to discuss the sponsorship," I say, trying not to choke on the words.

"Absolutely, Miss Thornton. We're pleased you reconsidered," Grant McCrae says, his smooth voice grating on my frazzled nerves.

"We'll be there within the hour."

"We'll be waiting."

I hang up and make my way downstairs, where Keir is waiting in the foyer. "Everything okay?"

"No," I murmur. "But I'll fill you in later, okay?"

He gives me a concerned look but nods, accepting my decision to deal with this on my own. Or with Anna, at least.

"We're good here. Let's go." Anna says as she hurries over.

Keir bends down to give me a quick kiss and then Anna and I make our way out of the rink and head to my car. Sliding into the driver's seat, I take a moment to collect myself. The excitement from earlier already feels like a distant memory.

"Don't worry, Emma. We've got this," Anna says as she buckles her seatbelt.

I shoot her a grateful look before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

As we drive towards Highland Spirits' headquarters, my mind races with everything that could go wrong—or right—during this meeting. By the time we arrive, I've cycled through every possible outcome at least a dozen times.

Inside, we're greeted by Gillian, their overly perky receptionist, who ushers us into their boardroom, where half a dozen executives wait with polished smiles and practiced handshakes. My heart pounds in my chest as I step forward, not having expected this turnout but another meeting with smug Grant.

"Miss Thornton, it's so good to see you again," Grant says, almost as if our last meeting hadn't gone about as badly as a business meeting can go.

"Mr McCrae," I murmur. "This is my assistant, Anna Ford."

"Please sit." He indicates a chair for me and has someone hurriedly bring one for Anna.

We sit stiffly as Grant gives me a schmoozing smile and launches into his spiel. I find it absurd that he is pitching me when, a few days ago, it was meant to be the other way around. I sit back and let him talk while Anna listens intently beside me. I catch her rolling her eyes at a particularly embellished claim about their brand's "synergistic alignment with the wholesome spirit of ice hockey."

Grant leans forward with an eager expression. "We believe that Taran's move to your team presents an excellent opportunity for both of us. We'd like to sponsor not just him, but the entire team."

I nearly choke on my own tongue at that. "The entire team?" I repeat, unable to keep the scepticism out of my voice.

Grant nods enthusiastically. "Absolutely. We want to focus on a community-driven approach. Your team has a lot of potential, and we want to be part of its growth."

I glance at Anna, who gives me a subtle nod. It's clear we're both thinking the same thing: this sounds too good to be true.

"So you're telling me," I say slowly, "that after turning me down flat last week and calling me—well, we both know what was said—you've had a sudden change of heart because you see potential in our team now?"

Grant's smile falters for a split second before he recovers. "Miss Thornton, business is about making smart decisions based on evolving circumstances. The arrival of Taran Fraser is certainly one such circumstance."

I resist the urge to tell him exactly where he can stick his ‘evolving circumstances.' "I think we should get everything in writing and have our legal team go over it thoroughly before we proceed."

Grant's fake smile tightens slightly, but he nods. "Of course, we anticipated that and have the preliminary contract ready for you to review."

He motions to one of the executives, who hands over a thick binder. I take it and flip through the first few pages, scanning for any obvious red flags.

"This is quite a lengthy document," I say, closing it again. "We'll need some time to go through it with our legal team."

Grant's eyes flash with impatience, but he keeps his voice smooth. "Naturally, Miss Thornton. We wouldn't expect anything less."

Anna says, "We'll get back to you within a week. If everything checks out, we can move forward from there."

Grant nods, though it's clear he's not thrilled about the delay. "That sounds reasonable. We look forward to your response."

I stand up and extend my hand. "Thank you for setting up this meeting with us today, Mr McCrae. We'll be in touch."

He shakes my hand firmly. "Thank you, Miss Thornton. We hope to hear good news soon."

Anna and I make our exit with the binder of gold clutched in my chubby fist. I may not have seen any red flags, but I did spot a figure that had more zeroes than I could count with just my eyes. Once we're back in the car, I mutter, "That was intense."

Anna grins at me. "You handled it like a pro. Now let's get this to our legal team and see if there are any traps hidden in there."

As we drive back to the arena, I can't help but think about what this sponsorship could mean for the team. Sure, it's a risky move given the history with Grant McCrae, but the potential funding could transform the Warriors in ways I've only dreamed of.

Once we are back at the arena and ensconced in my office, Anna contacts the legal team, who work off-site in a local law firm down the road.

While we wait for them to come over, I find myself pacing the office like a caged animal. Anna sits at my desk, calmly checking emails as if we didn't just sit through a nerve-wracking meeting with a bunch of corporate snobs.

"Emma, relax. We've done our part. Let's see what the legal team says before you start stressing out about it," she advises without looking up from her screen.

I sigh and flop onto the couch. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who might've just made a deal with the devil."

Anna chuckles. "True, but if it works out, you'll be a legend around here."

"A legend," I murmur. Like my dad. Yeah, that's what dreams are made of. And that's why I'm taking this entire deal with a grain of salt until someone can tell me otherwise.