Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(13)
The mere mention of popcorn makes my stomach rumble, and I realize I probably should’ve had something more than a protein bar.
“And because we’re focusing on the media aspect, I’ve asked for some help from Mark and the newest member of the Arrows organization.” Phoenix’s gaze darts to both of them, then back to the team. “The two of them are going to take on the difficult task of rebranding this team and getting us back to where we were two years ago.”
Great. Rebranding. I seriously doubt that has anything to do with our logo or jerseys.
“Mark? The floor’s yours.”
Mark steps forward. “I’m sure a lot of you know me. I’m around a lot. Looks like I’m going to be around a lot more for a while. In case I am a new face for you, my name is Mark Coleman. I’m one of the greatest hockey players to have ever graced the ice.”
I can’t help but smile. I’ve heard this one before.
“Not really.” Mark chuckles. “I played on a mini mite team once. For a season.” His smile widens. “Okay, a week. Sucked pretty good, and the first time I was knocked on my ass by a scrawny white kid with a stick, I said f*ck this shit.” He’s all shiny white teeth at this point. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know hockey. More importantly, I know the fans. I know what they want because I make a point to listen to them. I’m the executive director of media relations for the Austin Arrows. I’ve been in this role for going on a decade now.” Mark looks around, studying all the faces. “I don’t expect to become your best bud, the guy you invite over for a beer … except for you.” Mark points at me, of all f*cking people. “I expect you to invite me over for a beer, Rush.”
I nod. Coleman and I go way back. I like the guy.
Mark’s face turns solemn. “But seriously, I do want us to develop a working relationship that will be the most beneficial for this team.” Mark glances over at Red, then back to the team. “Because of the nature of this task, I’ve asked our director of community relations to join me. She’s new to the Arrows organization, but she’s not new to hockey. I’d like you to give a warm welcome to Amber North.”
I’m tempted to look at Spencer, but I refrain. I’m sure he’s attempting to bite his tongue off right now.
The redhead steps up and Mark takes a step back. “Thanks, Mark.” She smiles, but it falters slightly. “My name is Amber North, and as Mark said, I’m the director of community relations. I know for a fact that none of you know me, because I’ve spent the last decade with Florida working in their media relations department.”
I mentally disagree with her, since I know for a fact there is one person who does know her.
“I was born and raised in a small town not too far from here, but after college, I headed east. I’m glad to be back on Texas soil and to be part of this organization.” Her smile seems forced, and if I’m seeing things correctly, her gaze slides right over to Spencer before darting across the room again. “I hope going into this that you don’t see me as the enemy. If we can work together, I think we’re going to come out on top once again.”
“I’d like her to be on top,” someone whispers from my left.
We’re hockey players; of course someone is going to say something crude. It’s expected.
“Fuck off, Evans,” Spencer grumbles under his breath.
But that, I didn’t expect.
I glance over at Spencer. The guy looks like someone has a pair of pliers on his nuts, squeezing the life out of him. I lift an eyebrow and Spencer shakes his head.
Phoenix speaks up. “What I’m asking Mark and Amber to do might be a little outside of their job descriptions, but we know drastic times require drastic measures. And guys, this is the last f*cking straw.
“With their help, we’re going to be focusing on each of you as individuals. It’ll be a divide-and-conquer type thing. They’ll be working with you, devising a plan on how to improve the image of the team through you.”
A few guys grumble.
Phoenix frowns. “If you don’t like it, there’s always someone ready to move up and take your spot. Just say the word,” he snaps, his voice continuing to rise. “I don’t have the time or the patience for this shit, and neither does Coach Moen. You’ve shown exactly what you’re capable of, taking home the Cup, and I fully expect that we’ll do that again this year. Or get pretty damn close. But, in the process, you’re going to have to work your asses off. Not only on the ice, but also by earning the fans’ respect once again. And if you can’t tell me right now that you’re willing to give one hundred fifty percent, then you can walk your ass right out that door.”
I don’t budge. I’ll give two hundred fifty percent if that’s what Phoenix requires. Hockey is my life; this is my dream. No damn way am I going to let our failed seasons derail my career. I’m too far in for that to happen.
“I’m taking your silence to mean you’re in,” Phoenix says, addressing everyone in the room. When no one speaks up, he continues, “Good. Now, I’m giving you back to Coach Moen. He’s got a practice to get under way. I have complete confidence that we’ll overcome this.”
When it’s clear the lectures are over, I get to my feet along with everyone else in the room. I make it just a few feet shy of the door when I hear Spencer call my name.