chapter 6

For three excruciating seconds, no one moved. Emma’s lipstick was smudged. Alek’s usually perfect hair stuck up where her fingers had been. And Jack’s face had turned a shade of red previously unknown to science. “Jack—” Emma started. “Don’t.” Jack held up his hand, eyes darting between them. “Just... don’t.” Alek moved slightly in front of Emma, his body language protective but not aggressive. “Reynolds, this isn’t what you—” “Isn’t what I think?” Jack laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. “Because it looks like my boss is sticking his tongue down my wife’s throat.” “Soon-to-be-ex-wife,” Emma corrected, finding her voice. “You made that choice, remember?” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “So what, this is revenge? Sleep with my boss to get back at me?” “Not everything is about you, Jack.” Emma stepped around Alek. “And nobody’s sleeping with anyone.” “Yet,” Jack spat. “How long has this been going on? Were you fucking him while we were still together?” Alek’s jaw tightened. “Watch your mouth, Reynolds.” “Or what? You’ll fire me? Trade me?” Jack stepped further into the office, slamming the door behind him. “Seems like you’ve already decided to screw me one way or another.” “Jack, stop it.” Emma moved toward him, anger replacing embarrassment. “Nothing happened while we were together. You’re the only one who cheated in our marriage.” “Oh please. You expect me to believe this just happened tonight?” Jack gestured wildly at them. “During a convenient snowstorm when no one else is around?” “Believe whatever you want,” Alek said coolly. “Your performance issues are separate from my personal life.” “My performance—” Jack stared incredulously. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to force me out?” “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Reynolds,” Alek said. “Shocking, I know.” “Fuck you.” Jack took a menacing step toward Alek, fists clenched. Emma moved between them, palms up. “Jack, stop. You’re making this worse.” “I’m making it worse?” Jack’s voice rose to a near-shout. “You’re the one hooking up with the C-suite while the ink’s still wet on our divorce papers!” “The papers YOU threw at me,” Emma fired back, months of bottled anger finally uncorked. “After YOU cheated. After YOU decided I wasn’t good enough for your precious new image.” “I never said—” “You literally said I didn’t fit your lifestyle anymore.” Emma’s voice shook. “That I wasn’t enough. That you found someone who ‘gets it.’ Remember?” Jack had the decency to look uncomfortable, but recovered quickly. “So this is payback.” “No, Jack. This is me moving on. Something you did months ago.” “With my boss.” Jack raked his hands through his hair. “Jesus Christ, Em. Anyone else in Boston you could’ve picked?” “We aren’t ‘picking’ anyone,” Alek interjected. “This isn’t—” “Don’t talk to me.” Jack jabbed a finger at him. “You’re supposed to be professionally managing this team, not feeling up players’ wives in your office.” “Ex-wives,” Emma corrected again. “The divorce isn’t final!” “It is in every way that matters.” Jack’s face twisted. “I’ve had reporters asking if it’s true we split because you cheated. Guess they were right after all.” That did it. Eight years of marriage, and Jack knew exactly where to stick the knife. “How DARE you.” Emma’s voice was deadly quiet. “I supported you through three teams and a dozen groupies whose text messages I pretended not to see. I moved cities four times. I sat alone at games while you partied with your teammates. I smiled for cameras when all I wanted was a husband who came home at night.” She took a step toward him, fire in her eyes. “And when you decided the novelty wore off, you discarded me like last season’s jersey. So don’t you DARE stand there acting wounded when you’re the one who threw everything away.” The office fell silent except for Emma’s ragged breathing. Even Jack looked stunned at her outburst. “She’s right,” Alek said quietly. “You ended your marriage, Reynolds. You don’t get to dictate what happens after.” Jack’s shoulders slumped slightly, but his eyes still blazed. “This is still unprofessional as hell. The board will have opinions about the CEO sleeping with the ex-wife of a star player.” Alek’s expression hardened. “Is that a threat?” “Just stating facts. People talk.” “And what will they say about a player whose performance is tanking while he parties with supermodels?” Alek’s voice was dangerously calm. “A player who bursts into private offices without knocking? A player who might be in breach of the morality clause in his contract?” Jack paled slightly. “What are you talking about?” “The photos from Club Vortex last weekend. The ones with substances visible on the table.” Alek raised an eyebrow. “The ones we kept out of the press as a professional courtesy.” “You’re bluffing.” “Why would I bluff when I have security footage?” Alek leaned back against his desk. “I protect my players, Reynolds. Until they become liabilities.” Emma watched this exchange with growing unease. “Alek, don’t—” “No, let him finish,” Jack interrupted, his voice tight. “I want to hear how my boss plans to blackmail me.” “Not blackmail. Just perspective.” Alek crossed his arms. “You have opinions about my personal life? I have documentation about yours. The difference is, mine affects the team.” The tension in the room was thick enough to skate on. For a terrifying moment, Emma thought Jack might actually take a swing at Alek. Instead, he backed toward the door. “This isn’t over,” Jack said, eyes darting between them. “Either of you.” “Yes, it is,” Emma replied firmly. “Go home, Jack. Sleep it off. We can talk when you’re calmer.” “Don’t bet on it.” Jack yanked the door open. “And by the way, your concession pricing strategy is shit. Eight dollars for bottled water is why fans pre-game in the parking lot.” With that parting shot, he stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glass walls. Emma collapsed into the nearest chair. “Well. That went well.” Alek rubbed his face. “I’m sorry. That was... not how I wanted this evening to go.” “Not your fault.” Emma sighed. “I knew Jack would find out eventually. Just didn’t expect it to be mid-kiss during a blizzard.” “I shouldn’t have threatened him.” “You were protecting me.” “I was protecting both of us.” Alek knelt in front of her chair. “Emma, what happened between us—” “Was a mistake?” she finished for him, heart sinking. “Was inevitable,” he corrected, taking her hands. “But the timing is problematic.” Emma nodded reluctantly. “Jack will tell everyone.” “Probably. And that complicates your transition into ownership.” “Not to mention your authority with the team.” Emma squeezed his hands. “We need to step back, don’t we?” Alek’s eyes held hers. “Professionally, yes. Personally...” He trailed off. “Personally?” “Personally, I still want to finish what we started.” His thumb traced circles on her palm. “But not like this. Not with anger and threats hanging over us.” Emma leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “So what now?” “Now we focus on the team. On the business. We keep our distance until the divorce is final.” Alek’s voice was resigned. “And then we reevaluate.” “Just when I finally found someone who makes me feel like me again,” Emma murmured. Alek brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’m not going anywhere, Emma Mitchell. Good things are worth waiting for.” As they sat there, the storm howling outside, Emma realized that for the first time in years, she was exactly where she wanted to be—even if the path forward had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.