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Home loe Advantage
“You’re staring at me Alek said without opening his eyes
Emma propped herself on one elbow, watching the morning light play across his face “Can you blame me?”
They lay in Alek’s bed sheets tangled around them After leaving the hospital the previous night, they’d barely made it through his front door before months of tension had finally broken. What followed was everything Emma had imagined during those long weeks of professional distance–and considerably more
“We should here done this sooner” Alek murmured, pulling her closer
Professional boundaries Emma reminded him, though she didn’t sound particularly convinced by her own
argument
“Overrated” He kissed her shoulder. Besides, you’re technically my boss now”
Emma laughed. Not until Monday”
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Alek glanced at it and groaned. “Hockey never sleeps.”
“Answer it,” Emma said, sliding out of bed and grabbing his discarded shirt. “Til make coffee”
In the kitchen, Emma moved with surprising ease, as if she’d been there a hundred times before. She found mugs, located the coffee beans, and had the espresso machine humming when Alek appeared, phone still pressed to his ear
“Yes, I understand,” he was saying, eyes appreciatively tracking Emma as she moved around his kitchen wearing nothing but his shirt. “Set up the meeting for tomorrow. And tell Peterson we need the marketing plan revised. No, the other version won’t work.”
He ended the call with a sigh. “Trade deadline drama. Three teams interested in Reynolds.”
Emma nearly dropped a mug. “You’re really trading Jack?”
“Not just me. The coach, the scouts, most of management thinks it’s time. His performance hasn’t improved.” Alek accepted the coffee she handed him. “We can get a decent return while his name still has value.”
“It’s the right business decision, Emma admitted.
“But?”
“But it feels personal now. Because of us. Because of what happened.”
Alek set down his coffee. That’s why I wanted your input before finalizing anything. If you’re uncomfortable-
“Tm not.” Emma shook her head firmly. “The team comes first. Jack made his choices. On and off the ice
Alek studied her face. “You sure?”
“Positive” Emma sipped her coffee. “It’s just strange to think of him playing somewhere else. After building my life around his career for so long.”
“And now he’ll need to rebuild around yours.” Alek pulled her onto his lap, his large hands warm at her waist. “Speaking of which, are you ready for Monday?”
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“The press conference? Yes. The part where I tell my ex husband Im his boss? Not so much”
“He’ll find out with everyone else?”
Emma nodded. ‘Cleaner that way. No chance for him to make a scene before it’s public”
Alek traced patterns on her bare thigh. “Smart. But he will make a scene after”
“Probably. Hence the private reception rather than a big public event.” Entra rested her forehead against his. “Can we not talk about Jack anymore? I’d rather focus on more pleasant topics.”
“Like the third quarter revenue projections?” Alek teased.
“Like how quickly I can get you back to bed.” Emma’s fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Alek’s phone rang again. He glanced at it and groaned. “Sponsor call. I have to take this.”
“Go ahead.” Emma slid off his lap. “I should check on Grandpa anyway.”
As Alek took his call, Emma dialed the hospital. Franklin was being discharged that afternoon, and as predicted, was making the medical staff miserable with his impatience.
“He’s terrorizing the nurses,” Emma reported when Alek finished his call. They’re accelerating his discharge just to get rid of him.”
“Sounds like he’s feeling better.” Alek pulled her back into his arms. “Do you need to go?”
“Not yet. They’ll call when the paperwork’s ready.” Emma wound her arms around his neck. “Which means we have at least an hour before real life intrudes again.”
“Only an hour?” Alek’s eyes darkened. “We’d better make it count.”
“Aleksandr Volkov, if you don’t remove your hand from my granddaughter’s knee, I’ll have you traded to the Antarctic Hockey League.”
Franklin’s voice held no real threat as he presided over Sunday dinner from the head of his ornate dining table. He’d been home from the hospital for precisely 27 hours and was already acting as if the heart attack had been a minor inconvenience.
Emma felt Alek’s hand slide quiltily from her knee as he reached for his water glass. “My apologies, sir.”
“Oh, stop it, both of you.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Grandpa, Alek is a grown man and I’m a divorced woman. Also, the Antarctic doesn’t have a hockey league.”
“Details.” Franklin waved dismissively. “And I’m not objecting to whatever is happening between you two. I’m objecting to it happening under my nose during the duck confit.”
Alek failed to suppress a smile. “The food is excellent, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Flattery won’t save you, son,” But Franklin’s eyes twinkled. “Now, let’s discuss tomorrow’s announcement sent over the final schedule. Emmy, you’ll speak first, then I’ll join for photos, then the private reception.”
“And Jack?” Emma asked the question that had been hanging over the evening.
Team meeting at 10 AM. All players required to attend.” Franklin speared a roasted potato. “He’ll find out with everyone else. No special treatment.”
[
“He’ll be furious,” Emma murmured.
“Let him.” Franklin’s voice hardened. That boy threw away the best thing in his life when he tossed those divorce papers at you. He deserves to squirm”
Emma exchanged glances with Alek. They both knew Jack well enough to predict his reaction would be more
than squirming
“We should have security nearby,” Alek suggested. “Just in case.”
Franklin nodded. “Already arranged. Discreet, but present.”
As dinner progressed, Emma marveled at how comfortable this felt–her grandfather and Alek discussing hockey strategies, business plans, and tomorrow’s logistics. For the first time in years, she felt like her personal and professional lives were aligned rather than at war.
After dessert, Franklin claimed exhaustion and retired, leaving Emma and Alek alone in the formal living
room.
“He’s playing matchmaker again,” Emma noted, curling up beside Alek on the leather sofa.
“Is it working?” Alek’s arm settled around her shoulders.
“Considering we’ve barely left your bedroom for the past 36 hours except to come here? I’d say his efforts are
redundant.”
Alek laughed, then grew serious. “Emma, after tomorrow, everything changes. Not just professionally. Us,
too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Right now, we’re private. After the announcement, you’ll be news. The first female majority owner in league history. Jack Reynolds‘ ex–wife.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And if we’re seen together…” “Speculation about our relationship,” Emma finished his thought. “Accusations of impropriety, office romance, all that gossip.”
“Exactly. I don’t want to complicate your first days in the role.”
Emma shifted to face him. “Are you suggesting we keep this–us–secret?”
“No.” Alek’s answer was immediate. “That would just make it seem like we have something to hide. I’m suggesting we be careful. Professional in public. Until your position is established.”
“And then?”
“And then I plan to take you to dinner at the most public restaurant in Boston. His eyes held hers. “I’m in this, Emma. For the long haul. If you are.”
Emma felt something shift inside her–a plece falling into place that she hadn’t known was missing
“I’m in,” she said simply. “All the way.”
Later, as Alek walked her to her car, snowflakes began to fall–fat, lazy crystals that glowed in the security
lights.
“Reminds me of that night in my office,” he said, catching a flake on his palm.
“Our first kiss.” Emma smiled at the memory. “Followed by our first interrupted kiss.”
Home Ice Advantage
“No interruptions tonight” Alek pulled her close, his kiss warm despite the cold air
Emma drove home through the gentle snowfall, a strange sense of calm settling over her Tomorrow would bring chaos–press, questions, Jack’s reaction, the start of her public life as Emma Mitchell, team owner. But tonight, she had this quiet certainty: whatever happened next, she wouldn’t face it alone.
She was halfway home when her phone chimed with a text. Expecting Algk, she glanced at it at a red light.
Instead, Jack’s name appeared on the screen: *We need to talk before tomorrow. I know something’s happening. Please, Em, One conversation.*
Emma turned off her phone without replying. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and when it did, Jack Reynolds would finally learn exactly who he’d thrown those divorce papers at.
H
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