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The Hockey Star’s Remorse by Riley Above Story novel Chapter 4

 

 

 

Evie

 

 

Jasper is being Jasper again. He’s going around the office swearing up and down how he bagged the biggest client for the firm. The worst part is how people are eating up his antics. I, for one, am not finding his little parade cute.

 

 

He finally made his rounds, stopping at my desk. He leans against it casually. Victory is plastered on his face.

 

 

He sighs lazily. “How does it feel to be two days away from losing your job, Evie?”

 

 

“Bite me,” I mutter, typing away at my computer.

 

 

“Oh, come on,” he whines teasingly. “Don’t be like that. It’s a dog eat dog world here. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

 

 

“Oh, I don’t hate you Jasper,” I say sweetly, turning in my chair to smile. “I just think that nepotism is cheating. I mean come on. Really? Who is it this time? Daddy? Or was it your Uncle.”

 

 

Jasper looks over at my computer screen, sucking in a sharp breath. “Your email looks dryer than the Sahara. You better get on that, Eve.”

 

 

He pushes off my cubicle, swaggering down the row to his own office space. With his back turned to me, I gather the courage to flip him the bird beneath anyone’s line of sight.

 

 

A cough came from behind me. I froze.

 

 

“Evie,” the gruff voice of my boss spoke grimly.

 

 

“Mr. Erickson,” I squeaked. “I’m so sorry—“

 

 

“A word in my office please,” he said, striding off into that large perfect corner office.

 

 

I quickly stand up and scurry behind him. Just as I pass Jasper’s office, he gave an amused smirk and waved. Waved. The bastard waved!

 

 

My finger nails bite into my palms as I find my place before his desk.

 

 

“Shut the door,” he says grimly.

 

 

I quickly do as he asked. I turn back to him. His demeanor changed. He looked at me almost with pity.

 

 

“I know I need to find a client,” I began. “I’ve been working so hard—“

 

 

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s not easy starting from zero. And I know making those connections are hard. But I can’t keep making excuses for you, Evie.”

 

 

I nodded, my chest tightening. “Trust me. I know.”

 

 

“You have to bring me a client,” he says. “Otherwise I’ll have to let you go.”

 

 

“I’ll get you that client,” I promise. “And it’s going to be huge.”

 

 

He chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

 

 


 

 

 

Hours passed. Still no leads. I groaned, dropping my head to the desk tiredly. I felt the vibration of my phone against the surface. I threw my hand over, sliding my phone aggressively across the desk.

 

 

Lifting my head again, I looked at the notification.

 

 

From Aria.

 

 

We’re still on for tonight, right?

 

 

I shot straight up. Shoot. I completely forgot about tonight! I check the time. I didn’t even have time to change. The game starts at seven and I’m too far out from the arena to add another stop.

 

 

Yup! Totally. I’ll just meet you there.

 

 

The text bubbles appear.

 

 

You forgot, didn’t you…

 

 

My fingers fly over the keyboard in an attempt to defend my honor.

 

 

No! I’m on my way.

 

 

I throw my stuff into my purse and scramble to the elevator. Only, the doors were already shutting. And Jasper was the only one inside.

 

 

“Hold—“

 

 

“See ya, Evie,” he calls. And the doors shut.

 

 

I curse every violent curse I could think of in my head, before darting down the emergency staircase. The backs of my heels were stinging with every step.

 

 

I finally reach the bottom and run out onto the bustling sidewalk. Hailing a cab, I jump in and buckle my seat belt.

 

 

“Clayton Center,” I huff. “Step on it.”

 

 

The cab driver acknowledges my request and hit the gas. It took about thirty minutes to pull up at the entrance. I hand over the fare and ran towards the entrance. I knew Aria would wait for me near the planters before the security checkpoint.

 

 

Without fail, there she was. An amused look was spread across her face, and her arms folded casually. “Didn’t forget, did we?”

 

 

I was practically wheezing. “I had a lot going on at work,” I explain tiredly.

 

 

“Ugh, work. I don’t want to hear another word about work,” she groans. “I want to whisk my problems away by watching hot men beat each other up.”

 

 

I couldn’t help it. The laughter just starts bubbling out of me. “Well, don’t let me stop you, Ari,” I say.

 

 

We go in together.

 

 

I stuck out like a sore thumb in her charcoal gray pencil skirt and cream colored blouse. Everyone wore their Thunderbolt jerseys. Some had painted faces.

 

 

Ari had gotten glass seats. I mean we were practically on the ice at that point.

 

 

“How much were these tickets, Ari?”

 

 

She looked over with a deadpan look. “You don’t wanna know.”

 

 

I snorted. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

 

 

Several things occurred before the start of the game. The national anthem was played. The opposing teams starting lineup was announced.

 

 

Then the lights go out. Loud pounding music began to play and the announcer called everyone to attention.

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “Here are your Thunderbolts!”

 

 

The arena erupted into roars of support as names were called. I tuned out most of it. I was never much into sports, but I was here because my friend had asked me.

 

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