3. Emma

The audacity of this man. How dare he pay for my dinner. Who does he think he is?

Offering me a job at the rink? Is he mental? That rink is mine and I'm going to get it back.

The ice rink looms ahead, its glass fa?ade reflecting the cold determination in my eyes. Drake took it away from me, and I won"t let him get away with it. I push through the heavy glass door, feeling the familiar cold blast of air as I step onto the ice.

The chill of the ice seeping through my bones is always good to clear my head and fill me with the peace I desperately seek. I inhale, exhale, close my eyes, and take in the grounding experience.

I grew up on this rink. I grew up on this ice. It's where I learned to skate, it's where I found my love of ice skating.

My memories of my grandparents were everywhere in this building. Every holiday, and every happy memory I had is in this building.

I'm not about to let some douchebag, entitled rich boy take my childhood and future from me without a fight.

I leave the ice and go back out to the main part of the rink. The lobby is quiet, the usual buzz of hockey enthusiasts absent. My heels click against the tiled floor as I approach Drake"s office. My mind races with the words I"ll use, and the arguments I"ll make. I can"t let him win. My grandparents worked so hard to build this place, and I won"t let it crumble because of my dad's alcohol-induced mess.

I stand in front of the office door, taking a deep breath before knocking. The muffled sounds from inside tell me he"s there, probably drowning in paperwork or scheming on some new way to exploit people for profit.

I don"t care about hockey. I never did. I only played because my dad loved it, and by playing I thought it would make him love me too.

No such luck.

But I care about my grandparent's legacy, and I won"t let Drake or anyone else tarnish it.

I can hear Drake answer the phone. Someone is yelling on the other end of the line.

A gorgeous, shapely blonde walks up to the desk outside Drake's office.

She's new. She wasn't here yesterday.

He's probably sleeping with her.

The blonde cocks an eyebrow and looks back at me questioningly. I put a finger up to my lips and gesture to the voice.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest, but as the yelling gets louder, she scurries to stand next to me.

Damn it, she even smells really good.

"I"ve had enough, Drake. Your antics are ruining this team, ruining that town. If you don"t clean up your act, we"re pulling the hockey team out of Willow Creek for good."

My heart skips a beat. Who is this man, and why is he threatening Drake? I press closer to the door, straining to hear their conversation.

Drake"s voice is smooth and calm. "You can"t do that. The team is everything to this town."

The mystery man laughs a bitter sound. "The team was everything until you turned it into a circus. If you don"t want us to pull the plug, you better shape up, and fast."

I can practically feel the tension in the room, the weight of consequences hanging in the air. My mind races, trying to process what I"m hearing. If this man has the power to take the team away, maybe he"s the key to getting the ice rink back.

"Attacking an innocent bystander? Using our players to gang up on people? This man was a fan and now he has nothing nice to say. We offered him season tickets and merchandise, and he wants none of it."

"You offered him season tickets? You've got to be kidding me. You didn't even bother to ask me what happened before you started throwing shit at this man?"

"It's all over the media right now, people are jumping on board with his accusations. There's a police report and hospital …"

"There are no police reports because no charges were filed. He couldn't press charges because there was nothing done to him by us. A quick phone call to the local police department would have validated that. The man attacked Zane and then went after me. I de-escalated the situation and kept Zane out of trouble. This man is fabricating everything. I guarantee if you offered him money, he'd have taken it in a heartbeat."

"You can't even admit when you're wrong," the man growls. "There are witnesses. Are you really willing to die on this hill?"

"Witnesses? Yes, I'll bring you the witnesses to corroborate mine and Zane's story. The owners of the restaurant, the patrons, even the Chief of Police himself. The restaurant has security cameras in place, will that appease you?"

"We thought Zane was the wild card, turns out it's you. It's always been you. I knew partnering with you was a mistake. I ignored my gut because my wife thought it was a good idea, that you reminded her of me. I wanted to give you a chance, lot of good that did me."

"How was partnering with me a mistake? I've turned this team around. We're winning, we're performing, we're holding our own against the bigger teams."

"We're not beating the bigger teams. You're a nobody, Drake, and you always have been."

"Daniel, you're not even listening to what I tell you. You don't want proof. You want to publicly hang me for your benefit."

As the conversation inside the office continues to intensify, I realize that maybe there"s a way to turn this situation to my advantage. I"ll confront Drake, not as a desperate girl begging for the rink, but as someone who holds the key to his precious hockey team.

I pull away from the door, my mind buzzing with a new plan. I need to find out who this mystery man is, what he wants, and how I can use it to my advantage. My determination burns brighter, and a small smirk plays on my lips. Drake may have thought he had me backed into a corner, but little does he know, I"m about to turn the tables.

Drake slams the phone down just as I'm about to walk away. The secretary shoves me into the room.

"Miss Emma Matthews is here to see you, Drake," she says with a deep southern drawl.

She winks at me before turning on her heel and sashaying away. Drake's eyes bore into me and I almost wilt under the pressure.

I raise my chin defiantly before I inhale and exhale slowly.

"I want the ice rink back, Drake. This was my grandparent's dream, and you can"t just steal that legacy from me."

Drake chuckles a low sound that rumbles through me.

Oof, why is that sexy?

"I assure you I haven't stolen anything. I paid for the rink and the team."

"You can't buy something that wasn't being sold. It was mine and I was never even consulted in any of this."

"I'm not going to waste my precious time arguing with you about something that's clearly a family matter. The rink is mine, end of story."

"End of story? No, it's not. You will give me this rink back."

He chuckles again before he stands up and moves in front of me. He sits on the edge of the desk and crosses his arms in front of his chest. His black shirt tightens and reveals his muscled physique underneath.

Hello, muscles. I bet you could lift me over your head and spin me with such precision.

Jeez, I can't get figure skating out of my head.

"You know, Emma, I"ve offered you a chance to be a part of something big. The team could benefit from your experience."

I scoff, my anger bubbling to the surface. "I don"t care about the team. I played hockey to make my dad happy, not to be your pawn in some game."

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think he"s going to kick me out. But then he smirks, the kind of smirk that makes my blood boil. "Think about my offer, Emma. It"s not every day you get a chance like this."

"What's in it for me, if I take your offer?"

"A job," he chuckles. "Seems you were forced to retire from skating, you seem to like expensive things, you probably need a job."

His eyes roam up and down me slowly, taking in my designer clothing. He cocks an eyebrow.

"I don't need a job," I laugh uncomfortably. "Seems like you need a little help yourself, though."

I put a manicured finger up to my chin and tap it gently.

"Seems like you've gotten yourself into a little trouble though. Was that the president of the league threatening you?"

His eyes widen, then narrow as he gazes back at me. "You were eavesdropping?"

"I happened to be walking by and overheard the verbal lashing you received. Seems like you haven't made a very good impression on him. That's a shame. I wonder how interested he'd be to learn that you stole the rink out from under America's Sweetheart."

He throws his head back and laughs. "America's Sweetheart?"

"Give me my rink back and I won't make the phone call."

"Your threats are baseless. The president of the league couldn't care less about this rink. That's all me. You'd just be giving him more reason to take the team out of Willow Creek. Do you know what happens when the team leaves, Em?"

"You leave?"

"No," he chuckles drily. "The rink dies, the new businesses, the revenue, all of it goes away. Your family's gorgeous, successful restaurant goes bankrupt. Do you want to be responsible for Willow Creek becoming a ghost town?"

"That wouldn't be on me," I snap. "Your audacity is at all time high. How dare you! You're just like my father, trying to put the blame on me rather than accepting the part you played in the downfall. I will not be anyone's scapegoat."

"If you make a baseless phone call, yes it will be."

I narrow my eyes and glare at this impossibly obtuse man.

Will anyone care if I throttle him right now?

"It seems more like it's on you for being a hothead, a wild card who uses his players to gang up on innocent fans."

His smile is tight as he glares back at me. He stands up and walks back around his desk.

"You know, Em, I think you and I could help each other out a lot. We could do good for this town as well."

"I don't care …"

"About this town? I'm aware. Most of the town is aware too. You probably expected a big fanfare when America's Sweetheart returned home, and you got nothing."

I narrow my eyes at him again. What's he playing at?

"What do you want?"

"Pretend to be engaged to me so that my senior co-owner Daniel Loughlin and the rest of the league get off my back."

I throw my head back and laugh.

Has he lost his damn mind?

He's quietly standing there staring back at me.

"Wait, you're serious? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life."

"Loughlin told me that I needed to turn my image around. Right now, they all think I'm a wild card. Loughlin has a lot of old school values and believe that my lack of personal stability, the fact that I'm not in a serious relationship with anyone means I'm not focused on leading the team. Being engaged to you, my high school sweetheart would do it."

"High school sweetheart?" I laugh drily. "We slept together one time. No one even knew that we hooked up."

"You went to college for public relations and marketing, didn't you?"

"Yes," I sigh.

It's all starting to make sense now. We can spin a story to make him suddenly see the light and settle down, while also using my expertise to market the team better.

"You can use your degree, you'll also be able to teach the guys on the team with your expertise in competitive skating and …"

"Listen, you're the one who will be reaping all of the benefits here, what do I get in return?"

"I will give you the ice rink back only when my team wins a championship and secures its spot in Willow Creek. As soon as Loughlin relents this ridiculous threat, I will sell the rink back to you."

"I don't have that kind of money. I shouldn't have to buy back something that was sold without my knowledge."

"That's business, Doll," he shrugs.

My mouth drops open. "That's manipulation."

"Tell you want, we'll work out a deal in which you pay me back in profits monthly or yearly, until you pay it off."

I stare back at him trying to find his tell, the little hint that he's lying right through his teeth to me. I see nothing but honesty staring back at me.

I exhale slowly.

"Deal, but I need this in writing."

I should have paused more. I agreed way too quickly.

I can't get him out of my head though.

I need to feel him inside me again. His mouth on mine.

Whoa! Slow down!

"I'll have my lawyers work up a contract and email it over to you. Why don't you write down your information for me?"

"Why do I feel like I just signed a deal with the devil?"

"Listen, I'm the only one who stands to lose anything here."

"Says you."

"I knew you wouldn't let me down, doll," he chuckles.

I roll my eyes and walk out of the office. "Whatever, douchebag."

He laughs again and follows me out. "I'll pick you up for dinner tonight at seven, fiancée.

Details to follow."