Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“But it’s Maxim’s?” Jansen retorted as he stood. I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze.
“Seriously?” I lifted my chin. “The next time you want to act all pissy that I show up with Maxim, remind yourself that you could have asked first.” I’d given him every opportunity, and he was pushing me away over something I barely understood.
A muscle ticked in Jansen’s jaw. “Fine. I will.”
Guess what? He didn’t.
“Were you sitting on this juicy intel?” Langley Pierce placed her palms on the mahogany that separated us, her dark brown eyes practically glowing.
“No,” I said, slightly flabbergasted. “I just figured you knew.”
“Axel doesn’t really talk about the guys’ private business.”
It had been a month since everyone had found out about Maxim and Jansen being biological brothers, but we were all still reeling.
I should’ve known.
Maxim Zolotov had been my brother Caspian’s best friend for years. And for the past two, I’d seen more than plenty of him since he tagged along with Caspian on breaks versus going home to Minnesota. We’d become friendly, as one does when your brother and his friend are constantly raiding your fridge on visits.
Maxim never once mentioned that Jansen fucking Sterling was his brother. Sure, he’d talked about Sterling being an asshole, but not in a brotherly way.
Jansen, the same man whose scent had filled that elevator—all rugged and invigorating with hints of mandarin and sage. God, that memory—being stuck in the elevator with him—both haunted and excited me, if that was possible. The walls had threatened to close in, to suffocate me. I’d been close to choking on my own panic, and I likely would have if he hadn’t properly distracted me. Heat flushed over my skin at the memory of his teasing words, his scent, the way electricity had crackled in those small inches between us.
“Interesting,” Langley said, glancing at Persephone Price with a secret look I couldn’t decipher. The petite blonde looked like a fairytale Barbie, definitely not someone I’d picture as Cannon freaking Price’s wife. The guy was ruthless on the ice and grumbly off of it.
Though, to be fair, I wouldn’t go anywhere near Langley’s Viking of a husband either. These women had serious guts to be able to wrangle those two. Either way, it was only my first month on the job, and while they’d been more than welcoming, we hadn’t reached the stage of silent conversations yet.
I really hoped I earned the chance to make it to that level.
Being a game day event coordinator was an all-time high, and doing it for the Reapers? One of the hottest NHL teams to take the ice? Beyond a dream come true, even if my brother had been traded to the team I now worked for. I swear Caspian was more overprotective than our parents, and I had thought graduating college would give me some distance to stand on my own. Him being on the team…well, that was a problem for later. Right now…
“But you have a history with them, right?” Persephone asked from where she leaned against the wall in Langley’s office.
“Maxim is Caz’s best friend. I’ve known him for around two years. And Sterling…” Another warm shiver danced over my skin as our heated argument at Scythe last week raced through my mind.
“I only recently met Sterling,” I finally answered Langley.
Langley nodded, settling into the leather chair behind her desk. “This could be a great angle,” she said, the gears churning behind her eyes. “As you know, this year’s main charity organization is Ronald McDonald House. We’ve been mapping out strategies to ensure we uphold their family-oriented mission statement and how the Reapers can represent that image off the ice. Having brothers on the team and running promo spots to showcase that would go a long way to showing the nation what the Carolina Reapers truly stand for.”
“They didn’t look like the kind of brothers that knock back beers on Saturdays,” Persephone said, gracefully taking a seat in the empty chair next to mine.
I barely held back a laugh. Whenever they were within ten feet of each other, they looked one wrong blink away from an eruption. And Sterling wasn’t the asshole Maxim had said he was. “That’s an understatement.”
“Everyone has family drama,” Langley said, waving us off. “This is a business. I want us to earn a ton of donations for Ronald McDonald House this season. If highlighting the famous brothers loosens investors’ pockets, then it’s a win.”
I nodded, seeing her point. I couldn’t help but admire her—she was practically a legend in the public relations game. And even though I wasn’t gunning for her job, I was gunning for her approval. And I wasn’t the only one. Asher Silas had hired two game day event coordinators, and only one of us would be kept on for next season. Sean Cook was straight out of college just like me, but without the familial ties to the industry. Having Langley’s approval at the end of this season would go a long way in Silas’ eyes, especially when I proved my worth without my brother’s name attached to mine. Which I would do.