Cocky Score (The Hawkeyes Hockey Series)

Finally, Serendipity’s Coffee Shop that cafe I’m meeting the girls at comes into view under the bill of my hat. I decided to walk since I didn’t want to take the elevator down to the garage with Derek still with me. I wanted a quick getaway, and the lobby served that purpose. Plus, the doorman is on the lobby floor, and I wanted to know he was nearby, just in case. And in any case, the café is only a couple blocks away, and the rain doesn’t bother me.

Raindrops are beginning to spatter on the cement sidewalk, and I’m glad to be in close proximity before it really comes down because the best way to tell someone from the Pacific Northwest that you’re not a native is to carry around an umbrella. Also, your choice of footwear is as follows:

Year-round: flip-flops.

Hiking: Birkenstocks or Merrells.

Dec – Jan: rain boots.

If you are not dressed for an impromptu hike, your closet is not chock-full of all things Patagonia and Columbia gear, and you do not have a crippling coffee addiction… just pack up and go back home. You won’t last here.

I really hope to God that Tessa doesn’t have bad news to share because I could really use a break after what transpired in the apartment with my brother and then the weirdness in the elevator with Derek.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and pecan caramel sticky buns hit me right to the face as I open the heavy red door to the quaint little café that is anything other than a closely guarded secret. This place is booming with customers trying to get a sugary fix on their lunch breaks, or in this case, a post-work sugar rush. The aroma almost feels as though it pulls you in, kisses you on the cheek and wraps you up in a warm fuzzy blanket. Nothing better on a rather drizzly day in Seattle. The red door acts as a beacon on an otherwise colorless and gray afternoon as the fog decided not to lift completely today.

“Autumn!” I hear and then follow the sound to a lively waving Penelope sitting at a table in the back corner, Tessa’s head down in her phone, texting rapidly. Oh no, please don’t let that be related to Briggs.

“Hi,” I say, grabbing my wallet out of my purse and setting my purse under the table. “I’ll be right back. I need coffee before I melt,” I tell them. Tessa looks up quickly with a smile, but that’s all she gives me as she dives back into her phone.

Weird… and unnerving.

I order my coffee, and of course a sticky bun and head back to my table with my number for my order.

“Okay, I’m here. I’m really sorry I’m late,” I tell them.

“No biggie. I’m just happy to be out of the office, and Tessa has been text-shouting at Lake for the last twenty minutes.”

“Text-shouting?”

Penelope grabs Tessa’s phone from her.

“Hey!” Tessa objects, but it’s too late. Penelope is already turning it to show me.

Penelope holds the phone closer so I can read the conversation between Lake and Tessa, and sure enough, there is a long conversation between them, all caps and exclamations. I don’t think I see a single lower-case letter in the entire thing.

Tessa grabs at the phone, and Penelope lets it go. She and I look at each other and bite back a chuckle. I feel bad that Lake and Tessa’s rivalry hits my funny bone, but it just does. I should be a better friend to Tessa since I’m still the new girl in the threesome—if you count Isla, foursome—and I should take her side over Lake’s, but the way she carries on about his misdoings, the more I wonder if Lake’s inability to just grin and bare her, falling in line like all the other players on the roster is what’s really getting under her skin.

His social media posts can be tasteless, with scantily clad women on his boat at his lake house during the off-season. Sometimes with emoji covering up what would be their bare nipples. But he has ten times as many followers on his social media as Briggs… mostly women, because with that sexy grin and a nickname like Magic Stick, how could he not?

Tessa slams her phone on the table just as my coffee and sticky bun come out to the table. “Okay, I’m done, sorry,” she says.

“No, it’s fine. Do whatever you have to.”

“Absolutely not. I invited you both here so we could hear how things are going to Briggs,” Tessa says, saying his name teasingly and wagging her eyebrows at me.

“Ooh, yeah!” Penelope says, taking a bite of her bear claw and leaning in. “Do tell. How’s living with all that testosterone? Please tell me you’re in a one-bed type situation… and that the heater broke, so you have to use each other as a heat source.”

“You need to stop reading so many romance books, Penelope. You think everything is a trope.”

“It is! Give me any relationship, and I will name their trope.”

“I think I’m going to like this game.” I nod and lean in closer.

“You read smut?” Penelope asks, almost giddy.

“Who doesn’t?” I joke.

“Tessa doesn’t read dirty books.”

“Let’s just call it what it is… literary porn.” Tessa takes a sip of her coffee and then continues. “Word dicks. But I prefer my porn the old fashion way.”

“Tessa!” Penelope says with shock and then turns to me almost as if she half expects me to realize I sat at the wrong table.

I hide my grin as I take a sip of my coffee. “Oh yeah, how’s that?”

“Visually stimulating,” she says with a smirk. Obviously this isn’t the first time these two have debated this because Tessa knows she’s riling Penelope up.

“Well, excuse me for liking to read my porn… like a dang lady.” Penelope huffs, only pretending to be upset.

A smile peaks out when she sees I’m chuckling at these two.

I look around our surroundings to see if anyone heard our conversation. Of course, there’s a man, slightly advanced past middle-aged, reading his newspaper two tables away. I see him peeking over his paper for a minute. Then I hear a chuckle, and he goes back to his reading again.

“We got off track,” Tessa says. “We need all the sexy details about your sleepover with the right-wing hottie.”

“Hold on. I thought we were meeting about work-related things.”

“We are, but I believe in an even-keeled work/play balance.”

“She really does.” Penelope nods vigorously and points a thumb at Tessa using her other hand to take another sip of her drink.

“Okay, fine. Work first,” I tell her.

If they want details, I want what I came for first. I want to know if risking my brother’s ability to ever trust me again and causing a blow-up with a coworker is worth the risk. I need to know that this fake relationship is changing public opinion for the better and that no rumors have started surfacing.

Tessa picks her phone back up, growling at a new text she got from Lake but clicks out of the messaging app, even though I’m sure it’s killing her not to respond back to Lake right away.

She scrolls through her phone for a second, and then she must pull out a report she compiled because she starts listing off key points.

“I got the reports from apparel, and they are reporting an increase in Conley jerseys and merchandise by 18%.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s a giant jump for sales in general but huge for only a few days.” Penelope nods.

“Yeah. It’s promising news,” Tessa agrees, still looking down at her phone.

“What else you got?” Penelope asks.

“His social media account grew by almost ten thousand new followers between the day your restaurant kiss surfaced and the blow-up he had at the reporter after the game last week.”

I cringe at the fact that Briggs might have hurt his reputation by defending me, but in this case, it sounds like it actually worked to his benefit. The public is intrigued by him… they’re talking. I just hope it’s mostly good.

“Is that good?”

“Really good. And the comment section is looking promising too. Naturally, with social media being the animal it is, there is always a few dim wits who want to see Briggs crash and burn, but overall, people have good things to say about his girl-next-door wholesome new relationship. The narrative is going the way we were hoping, and people are rooting for you two.”

People are rooting for us? I bite down on my lip a little but then try to cover it up by tearing off a piece of sticky bun and plopping it in my mouth before either woman sees the effect that comment has on me.

Oh damn, that’s a good pasty.

Almost better than sex… well, better than sex with a normal man. Not better than sex with Briggs.

Sex with Briggs is more like getting to eat a whole truckload of sticky buns with zero calories.

My mouth begins to water again but not for the sticky bun. Though, I can’t let that happen again. If I want this promotion, and I do, I’m on a 100 percent Briggs diet… except in public when we have to show affection.

I clear my throat and try to focus back on work. “And if the fake story drops tomorrow? How would that affect us?” I ask.

“His reputation is still a drag, and your relationship is as fragile as a glass egg. If the story drops, I suspect the glass will shatter. We need more time to solidify his new public image.”

I nod, disappointed but not surprised. I knew well enough that changing public opinion takes a while to alter.

“What about the sponsor deal?” Penelope asks, turning to Tessa.

“What sponsors deal?” I ask.

Tessa makes a lopsided frown. “It’s not a given yet.”

“My dad was talking about it with Phil Carlton. Sounds like Briggs’s agent thinks it could be a great opportunity.”

“It’s a very family-focused company.”

“You think they’ll go with someone else?”

“I just think they haven’t seen enough of Briggs out of the party scene to gamble on their reputation too. Briggs would need to really prove he’s a changed man before they’d consider him.”

“But the sponsorship aside, you think things are looking good?”

“Yes, but the best thing we can hope for is that hiring your firm was simply a precaution. I hope that Briggs doesn’t have to rely his entire career on whether or not this woman gives a four-page spread on this story, and then we’ll have to actually see if this safety net you’re creating holds.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“The Hawkeyes may have no other choice than to separate themselves from the dumpster fire and drop Conley.”

“What?!”

“That might not even be the worst of it for Conley. She could drag him through a criminal case,” Tessa says.

“But she won’t win. There’s not enough evidence. And if the team drops him, he’ll look even more guilty, and no other team will pick him up.” Penelope jumps in. I know this is part of Tessa’s job to consider all the possibilities, but I’m glad to have Penelope feeling as defensive over Briggs as I do.

Tessa looks over at her. “You’re right. It will ruin him.”

Damn it. I hate that she’s right.

“I have to go.” I stand quickly.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to think. I need to talk to my boss.”

“Wait! You didn’t give us the dirty,” Penelope objects.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Sort of. I’m not exactly sure how much I should tell them about what’s going on between me and Briggs. This friend group is new, and they are all employed by the franchise, whereas I was hired for a job. A job where client fraternizing is frowned upon, and I can’t imagine Phil Carlton would like that he’s paying me while I’m having hot shower sex with one of his most valuable players. He’ll want my head in the game, not under the sheets. “Rain check?”

“It’s already raining.” Penelope pouts, then all of a sudden, gasps out of nowhere like some thought just came to her. “Enemies-to-lovers. That’s your trope,” she says and looks at Tessa.

“What are you talking about?” Tessa says with a scrunched nose.

“You and Lake.”

“Lake and I hate each other. That would never happen.”

Like a scene from a movie, Penelope and I slowly look over at each other, and both grin huge.

“I’d buy that book,” I say with a smirk.

“Me too,” Penelope beams.

“Over my dead body.” Tessa huffs.

“Drinks. Tomorrow night,” Tessa demands like she’s not asking.

“Okay,” I say, grabbing my purse from under the table and grabbing my to-do coffee cup off the table. I pick up my empty plate where the heavenly pastry confection once sat and look over at the self-busing station. “Text me,” I say over my shoulder as I head for the red door and set my plate in the dirty plates bin by the trash and recycle cans for the staff to get later.

I head for the door, pull out my phone and dial Erika. When she picks up, I jump straight to it.

“Are you in the office?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I’m coming in.”

I hang up and pull up the Rideshare app since I didn’t bring my car to the café because of Derek.

It’s time to pull out the stops to protect Briggs’s career and help him get that huge sponsorship. Briggs is one of the hardest-working pro hockey players in the league, and I’ll be damned if some woman thinks she’s going to use Briggs for a payday and ruin him while she’s at it.

I can’t do anything about the franchise wanting to pay off her entitled ass, but I can do the one thing I’m good at, protect Briggs’s pro hockey dreams.