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Chapter 6

Kali

I'm replying to an email at my desk confirming what time I'm meeting my girlfriends tonight for dinner, which we do every weekend, when I hear raised voices from outside my office.

It sounds like Lizzy, my assistant, and another much lower voice, a man maybe, shouting at one another.

What the hell?

Too slow to get up from my desk to find out what is happening, a tornado of rage fills the air as Lizzy yells, "You can't go in without an appointment." At the same time, my office door flies open so hard it ricochets off the wall, swinging back again, threatening to hit the face of the man storming in.

With lightning quick reflexes, he holds his hand out to prevent it from smacking him.

And I was wrong. It isn't a man, it's a man-child.

Wade Collins.

The guy I"ve spent the last two weeks arguing via email about schedules, guest appearances, and charity events.

He's less than flexible.

Impassable.

More like, impossible.

And a complete brat.

He refuses to partake in any of my proposed publicity plans. He's yet to sign off on the positive press releases I've written. He's frustratingly annoying.

Wade has reneged on what we agreed in the boardroom at the Edmonton Eagles head office. I'm so close to telling Marcus where to shove his ‘wild rebellious player' job. But if that's what Wade is hoping for, he clearly hasn't done his research. I'm not a quitter.

Never have been.

I sigh and lean back in my black leather chair, preparing myself for a barrage of abuse I'm sure he's about to unleash. Having been treated like a mannequin for most of my life, I've developed a thick skin. Whatever happens next, I'm ready.

"What the hell is this?" He slams at least a dozen pieces of paper down on my desk.

Here we go.

Arms spread wide, palms down, he lays his hands on my desk, towering over me as I thumb the paperwork, even though I know exactly what it is.

"Oh, great it arrived." I sent it by courier this morning, ensuring he got my message loud and clear. "But you haven't signed it." I thumb through them to find the last page. His tall, broad frame paints a shadow across my desk, filling my office with his exotic cologne that smells a lot like Creed. Got to hand it to him. The boy has taste.

"Don't play dumb, Kali."

I lift my gaze upward and bat my eyelashes, feigning innocence. "I'm not following." I'm way too flippant and he knows it, which makes the skin of his neck flush a deeper shade of red.

"This..." Stabbing the pieces of paper repeatedly, his forehead is lined with dissatisfaction. "… is not fucking funny."

"It's not meant to be." It was more of a threat than anything else.

"So, why did you send it to me?" His brows knit together.

I place my palms on my desk and use them to lift myself from my seat, and copy his stance.

Eyes locked in challenge, I refuse to be railroaded by this guy.

Railed by him would be quite nice though, I imagine.

Where the hell do these stupid thoughts keep coming from when I'm around him?

I push them aside quickly.

"Wade, listen to me carefully." My tone is devoid of emotion to the point of being rude as I go official on his ass. "Following two weeks of emails between both parties, for the record, that's you and me," I clarify. "Where you explicitly outlined your refusal to partake in the calendar of events, guest appearances, interviews, or attend a meeting with me today to discuss what your brand messages will be and by what streams of media we will deliver them, you inadvertently accepted the transfer to another league as proposed by Marcus."

Following a quick telephone conversation with Leon earlier to give me an update on Wade's progress, it turns out he's attended training sessions with Ash as well as sessions with the in-house sports psychologist. Which confirmed my suspicions; he's only interested in doing the sports side of his agreement and none of the grief counseling with Thomas or the publicity work with me.

He's even welcomed Lola into his world, letting her prepare meals for him, sort his admin, laundry; everything to help save him time. He's been very accepting of everyone.

Except Thomas and me.

He's picking and choosing the people he wants to work with, and that's not how this works.

Struggling to lure him into the office, an idea struck me. I had Savanna send me a copy of the contract when Wade declined yet another meeting with me. I also called Thomas, who confirmed Wade had missed this week's session again too.

I knew the only thing that would get Wade's ass down here was the thing he fears the most; the transfer contract.

My little heart does a gleeful hop, skip, and jump at how well my plan worked out.

There's a bigger picture here for me too. I can see so clearly as if a movie is playing out in my mind. If Marcus loves what I do for Wade, he'll hire me for other players. I could possibly become the publicist for their crisis management handling.

Now, that would be life changing.

Studying hockey, watching games, reading blogs to bring myself up to speed with the game, its rules, and the team, my head is full of nothing but hockey. I'm grateful I hired two new publicists to transfer my workload onto, although I was a bit premature on clearing my calendar due to Wade's no shows for two weeks straight.

However, if I can get him to work with me, my schedule will be slammed, and I won't have time for anyone but Wade pain in the ass Collins.

Can't deny, he's got a nice ass, and a handsome face.

Shut up, he's annoying you. Don't say nice things about him.

My mind wanders down a path it knows so well. If he just tilted his head to the right an inch, relaxed his jaw, and looked up a fraction higher, it would be the perfect portrait shot.

Concentrate, Kali.

Nostrils flared, he tightens his lips into a narrow line.

By sending him that contract, I'm screwing with him, and he knows it.

He's pissed.

Same, Wade, same.

I see so much potential in him. He's misguided, but not a lost cause.

He can't see that I'm on his side.

Yet.

"I'm not moving to the AHL. I will not sign that contract." Widening his eyes, he flashes me the whites of them, looking feral.

I lift a brow and keep my cool. "Seems like you already have, given your refusal to attend any of the events I have calendared. Although you somehow have managed to attend training with Ash and have been meeting with Joe and Leon, you reject every calendar request I send you and refuse to work with Thomas. We all come as a package, Wade. It's all or nothing. You don't get to pick and choose what you do. I take my job very seriously and you're making a fool out of what I do. I'm more than offended."

"And you've offended me, thinking I would fall for your little stunt." His words spill from his mouth fast, sounding pissed.

"But it worked, didn't it?" I pause. "You're here, standing in my office, aren't you?"

I bathe in my smugness again, loving every hot minute.

A tiny pulse in his neck throbs silently, and I have to stifle a giggle at how utterly predictable he is. I imagine the sound of his blood racing through his veins is more than likely beating louder than a marching band.

Squaring my shoulders, I tilt my chin in a ready to go to war with him stance as we face off with each other.

"What the hell is going on here?" Leon's voice snaps Wade's neck in his direction.

"Do you know what she did?" Wade points at me as I sit in my chair again and cross my legs. I'm bored now. I would like to get on with Operation Make Wade Great Again, but Wade is getting in the way of Wade and he's really beginning to piss me right off.

Leon casually leans against the doorjamb with an easy smile. "I do." He jerks his chin at me. "Sending the contract worked just like you said it would." Then he claps his hands, applauding me for being so wickedly devious.

Wade looks back and forth between the two of us. "I hate you both." I know he doesn't mean that. Not really.

Or maybe he does.

"So, you keep saying." Leon walks across my office, past Wade's death glares, and makes himself comfortable on my burgundy leather sofa. "You'll love me even more when I tell you the sweet deal I have for you." Laying his ankle on top of his knee, he picks up an old copy of Vogue magazine that's sitting on the seat beside him.

Curiosity gets the better of me. I want to know, no, have to know what Leon pulled off today. I move from behind my desk and sit next to Leon.

"Nice." Leon turns the two-page spread he's looking at in the magazine. It's me in the last ever ad campaign I did for Dolce and Gabbana. I'm wearing nothing but a black corset that covers my intimate bits, and black heels surrounded by five male models all looking at me and me only. I roll my eyes when Leon says, "You look fucking hot, Roth. Don't you agree?" He flips the magazine to show Wade.

Oh, my God. I suddenly feel sweaty and hot. I've been on billboards and strutted the catwalk in less clothes than that advert, but this is different. Wade is a client.

"Give me that." I try to snatch it out of Leon's clutches, making him chuckle.

Wade looks at it quickly before I grab it, slam it shut, and then slap it on top of the glass coffee table in front of me.

When I look up, Wade is staring at Leon and me.

Ping-ponging his eyes back and forth, he asks a question that makes me want to die, "Are you two sleeping together?" He waggles his finger at us.

I cover my face. "Oh, my God, Wade. No," I exclaim.

"Not for lack of trying." Leon laughs, which causes me to remove my hands from my face, give him a playful punch to the top of his arm and then a whack across the back of his head.

He cowers away from me. "Fuck, I'm kidding, sorry." He laughs again.

Prick.

Flustered, I look at Wade. "This is strictly business. He's like a brother." My thumb points at Leon.

"Oh, fuck no, don't ever describe me like that," Leon all but yells at me.

"But you are." I turn to look at him in complete shock. He and I are not a thing, never will be.

"I could ask the same about you guys." Leon points at Wade, then me. "The sexual tension between you two is off the charts. Maybe you should just bang."

This meeting is getting out of control and destroying my attempts at professionalism.

I rub my temples in distress. There is no amount of chamomile tea to calm my annoyance at this conversation. I might have to start taking Ashwagandha again. Order it in bulk to ease the anxiety of working with these two knuckleheads.

Goddamn hockey players.

"Enough." I rise to my feet and make a T shape with my hands calling timeout.

I look down at Leon in disbelief. "What the hell is wrong with you? I'm old enough to be his mother."

"Hardly." Wade scoffs.

Usually unflappable, I'm flapping like a baby penguin about to take its first plunge off an iceberg into treacherous waters.

"You know what I mean, you're just a kid," I counter.

Wade's stunned into silence. He's just standing there, looking at me in complete bafflement, and I know I've offended him.

"You're eight years older than me, Kali. Not old enough to be my mother, and for the record, I'm not a kid. I own a house, have a career. Which, okay, I may have fucked up a bit, but I pay bills like everyone else."

But wait, what?

"If you have a house, why are you living in a hotel?" I ask.

Running his hand down his face, he confesses, "I was kicked out of my last apartment. The neighbors didn't appreciate me playing My Chemical Romance at two in the morning when I came in wasted. Wasn't in the community spirit of things apparently." Eyes busy, he looks everywhere but me as if embarrassed with himself, as he admits, "I was kicked out a couple of months after Gretchen died. I was sort of sofa surfing after that, staying here and there, wherever I could find a place. I haven't been able to find something I like here in the city, and my house is by Caulder Creek. It's too far for me to travel the two hours there and back again every day for training and games." Letting go of the tension I could see building, he screws his face up, his nose scrunching. "And it's the house Gretchen died in. I haven't been back since the day of her funeral."

Well, that explains it.

That's the first thing on the list; find Wade a house to call home. He's unsettled and I know what living in a hotel night after night is like.

It's what I did throughout my modeling career and when Michael and I split up.

I told him he could keep both the house we bought years ago here in Edmonton and the apartment in New York as part of the divorce settlement. I didn't want either. I couldn't sleep in the beds he cheated on me in.

"I'll help you find a house here in the city." I offer.

Hotels are for temporary living and what he needs is roots and a steady place to call home and decompress in. "That's if you agree, again, to work with me, not against me. I can't keep fighting with you, Wade." I tell him straight. "And there is nothing going on between Leon and me. We are business associates, as are you and I." I wave my hand in the spaces between us all. "Leon and I have known each other for years." I let my shoulders drop and flash him a smile, softening my tone a little to show him I'm not as bad as he thinks I am. "I see so much potential in you, Wade. I do genuinely want to help."

It might be me needing the help afterward. I have a feeling this contract will either kill me from having to work so hard, or I will kill Wade, or perhaps Wade might kill me. I'm undecided at this point.

"We both want to help," Leon confirms. "Kali is an incredible publicist, Wade. You need to let her do her job."

Leon always has my back. He's stellar.

"And I have a contract for you to look over with Calvin Klein. That's the exciting news I had to tell you. Your looks fit their brief and style, but they have terms they want you to agree to, and then it's game on."

"You're kidding?" Wade's eyes light up and I can tell he's excited about the news when he smiles. It's the first time I've seen that happen, and holy cow, he's even more handsome like this.

"But." Leon stands shoulder to shoulder with me. "It's only game on if you agree to do everything Kali says. I won't represent you otherwise."

I puff out my chest, feeling proud that I have so much clout. Leon's one of the good guys, taller than a cell phone mast, softer than a big, cuddly teddy bear, but he's also sharp, credible, and appreciates how valuable I am.

"Okay," Wade agrees.

He had better stick to his promise this time, or he's on the first flight out of Edmonton to Bumfuck Hicksville. I'll personally put him on myself and celebrate with fireworks as he flies off into the clouds.

It's going to be long ass days working with Wade. I can feel a session with my therapist coming on. I jot down a mental note to book in Wade Ranting Sessions with Jeremy.

Leon spills more news. "I've approached another three potential hockey-related sponsorships, but none of them will touch you given your track record lately," Leon confirms.

Wade cringes, biting his bottom lip.

I don't want him wallowing like a hippo in shame. "We'll turn it around, but we have work to do. Time to make you shine, Wade Collins." And I know exactly how to do that.

He nods his head in agreement, "Should we go over your proposal now? You know, since I'm here?" Shyness slips into his words.

"For real this time?" I ask.

"For real."

"Great." I walk back to my desk and grab my laptop. "Let's hit the boardroom where I can plug this thing in, and we can all view it on the larger screen."

Leon's out the door and patting Wade on the back, ushering him toward our conference facilities.

I can't help but chuckle when I hear Wade whispering to Leon, but loud enough for me to hear. "If I don't do what she says, she's going to hunt me down and bust my balls, isn't she?"

Leon wraps his arm around Wade's shoulders. "Yeah, she fucking will. You lucky son of a bitch."

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