Neutral Zone
“The league substance program requires minimum thirty days, Dr. Marcus explained, his clinical tone matching the sterile conference room “With Reynolds profile, they’ll likely recommend the full ninety”
Emma nodded, reviewing the confidential medical report. Two weeks had passed since Jack’s meltdown and subsequent entry into the league’s treatment program. As team owner, she received minimal updates on his progress–just enough to make personnel decisions.
“And his condition?” she asked.
Dr. Marcus adjusted his glasses. Preliminary assessment shows stress induced substance dependency Nothing exotic–alcohol primarily, with occasional pharmaceutical abuse Treatable with proper support”
“Will he play again this season?”
“Medically speaking, possibly. With strict monitoring.” The doctor closed his file. “But that’s your decision, Ms. Mitchell, not mine.”
After he left, Emma remained at the conference table where the team’s executive committee had gathered for their monthly meeting. Only Alek lingered, reviewing notes on his tablet.
“Thoughts?” she asked when they were alone.
“Professionally? Keep him inactive until after the treatment program, then reevaluate.” Alek set down his tablet. “Personally? I wish him well, but prefer him far from our organization.”
Emma smiled faintly. “At least you’re honest.”
“Always.” His eyes met hers across the table. “We haven’t had much time together lately.”
“Two weeks of press interviews, league meetings, and sponsor damage control will do that” Emma sighed. “Sorry about the raincheck marathon.”
“It’s the job.” Alek’s voice held no resentment. “You’re establishing yourself. That takes priority”
Emma’s heart swelled with appreciation. Any other man might have complained about being sidelined for work, but Alek understood perfectly.
“Tonight,” she said decisively. “My place. I’ll cook.”
His eyebrow rose skeptically. “You cook?”
“I order takeout and transfer it to fancy plates.” Emma grinned. “Very convincing.”
Their laughter was interrupted by a knock. Lisa poked her head in, looking apologetic.
“Sorry to interrupt. The media rights negotiation team is assembled in boardroom three, and the league commissioner is on standby for your call at eleven.”
Emma gathered her files. “Duty calls.”
Alek nodded professionally, already back in CEO mode. “I’ll email you those sponsorship revisions by two.” As Emma walked toward her next meeting, she marveled at how seamlessly they’d adapted to their professional relationship. In the office, they maintained perfect propriety–no personal conversations, no lingering glances, no touches. The speculation around her rise to ownership had been scandal enough
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without adding workplace romance to the mix.
But the nights they’d managed to steal together had been worth every sacrifice. Alek’s apartment had become their sanctuary–the one place they could simply be Emma and Alek, rather than Ms. Mitchell and
Mr. Volkov
“You’ve increased revenue projections by almost twenty percent,” Franklin said, examining the quarterly reports spread across his home study. “Impressive for someone who’s only been officially in charge for two
weeks.”
Emma sipped her tea. “Most of these initiatives were already in the pipeline. I just accelerated implementation,”
“Don’t minimize your achievements.” Franklin tapped the concessions report. “This pricing strategy alone will add millions annually. And the community outreach program has boosted ticket sales in demographics we’ve struggled with for years.”
“That was Alek’s idea originally. I just refined it.”
Franklin gave her a knowing look. “Speaking of Aleksander, how are things progressing there?” “Professionally? Seamlessly. He’s brilliant at operations, and we complement each other’s strengths.
“And personally?” Franklin pressed.
Emma felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Also… complementary”
like you!
“Good.” Franklin nodded approvingly. “The boy looks at you like you hung the moon. Reminds me of how I looked at your grandmother.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.”
“Because it’s true.” Franklin’s voice softened. “When you find someone who sees you–really sees you–hold onto them, Emmy. They’re rare.”
“I know.” Emma smiled, thinking of how Alek had supported her through these chaotic weeks. “He’s pretty special.”
“Speaking of special,” Franklin shifted topics abruptly, “what’s the plan for Reynolds?”
Emma’s smile faded. “Depends on his progress in treatment. The performance metrics don’t justify keeping him at his current salary, but trading him during treatment would look callous.”
“What does Aleksander recommend?”
“Trading him post–treatment. Clean break for everyone.”
Franklin studied his granddaughter. “And you? What does Emma recommend, not the owner?”
“I think Jack needs stability right now.” Emma chose her words carefully. “A fresh start might benefit him personally, even if it hurts professionally.”
“Always the empathetic one.” Franklin shook his head. “Even after how he treated you.”
“I can separate the personal from the professional.”
“Can you?” Franklin challenged gently. “Jack Reynolds broke your heart and publicly humiliated you. Now you
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hold his career in your hands. That’s a complex dynamic, Emmy
Tm aware‘ Emma straightened papers that didn’t need straightening. “But I won’t make decisions based on
revenge”
Hevenge, no. Protection, perhaps Franklin leaned forward. “Jack has a history of volatility What happens when treatment enda and he retums to a team now run by his ex–wife who’s dating his boss?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it”
“Just make sure that bridge isn’t rigged to explode when you’re halfway across Franklin tapped his cane for emphasis. “Some situations can’t be managed, only avoided.”
That evening, Emma’s apartment was transformed from its usual sparse elegance to something cozier–soft lighting, music playing, and yes, takeout artfully arranged on her best dishes. She’d even changed into jeans and a sweater instead of her usual work attire, determined to create a sanctuary of normalcy amid the professional chaos.
When Alek arrived, he brought wine and a small wrapped package.
“What’s this?” Emma naked, taking both.
“Wine is for dinner.” Alek hung his coat by the door. “The gift is because I missed your birthday last week while at the owners‘ meetings”
“I told you not to worry about that.” But she was already untying the ribbon.
Inside the small box lay a delicate silver pendant–a hockey stick crossed with a fountain pen.
“It’s perfect,” she breathed, lifting it from the velvet lining.
“I thought it represented our worlds colliding.” Alek helped her fasten it around her neck. “Business and hockey. Spreadsheets and slapshots.”
Emma touched the pendant, surprisingly moved by the thoughtful symbolism. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received.”
Dinner passed pleasantly as they exchanged stories from their separate meetings that day. Emma found herself laughing more than she had in weeks, the tension of public scrutiny finally melting away.
“I missed this,” she admitted as they cleared plates. “Just being us.”
“We could have more of this,” Alek said casually, rinsing a wine glass. “If we weren’t so concerned about appearances.”
Emma paused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we’ve been tiptoeing around for weeks, acting like colleagues in public, sneaking moments in private.” Alek turned to face her. “It’s exhausting, Emma.”
“It’s necessary,” she countered. “Until my position is established-”
“Your position is established. The board respects you. The staff admires you. Even the media has moved past. the initial shock.” Alek stepped closer. “We’re adults. We can acknowledge we’re in a relationship without it undermining your authority.”
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Neutral
Emma hesitated: “The timing still feels wrong with Jack in treatment. Like we’re flaunting our happiness.
while he’s struggling ”
“Jack made his choices long before we made ours.” Alek’s voice was gentle but firm. “We can be sensitive
without hiding.”
Before Emma could respond, her phone rang–the special tone reserved for team emergencies. She grabbed
it from the counter.
“Mitchell,” she answered crisply.
Lisa’s voice was tense. “Sorry to interrupt your evening, but there’s a situation. Jack Reynolds left the treatment facility against medical advice three hours ago. He just showed up at Vince’s Bar near the arena, clearly intoxicated, making a scene about team management.”
Emma’s stomach dropped. “How bad?”
“Bad enough that TMZ already has footage. He’s claiming discrimination, unfair treatment, conspiracy to
force him out.”
“Is Alek mentioned?” Emma asked, meeting his concerned eyes.
“Yes, along with… unflattering characterizations of your relationship.”
“Contain it,” Emma ordered. “Send security to extract him before he does more damage. Get our media statement ready–compassionate tone, emphasize our support for his recovery.”
“Already drafted. And security is en route.”
“Keep me updated.” Emma ended the call, deflating against the counter. “So much for a quiet evening.”
Alek didn’t ask for details; he’d clearly inferred enough from her side of the conversation. “What do you need
from me?”
That simple question–focused on her needs rather than his curiosity–solidified something Emma had been feeling for weeks.
“Just you,” she said quietly. “Right now, just you.”
He enfolded her in his arms, strong and steady. “You’ve got me. Always.”
As they stood in her kitchen, the evening’s peace shattered by Jack’s ongoing self–destruction, Emma realized Franklin’s warning had merit. Some bridges were indeed rigged to explode. The question was whether to cross them anyway or find another path entirely.
“We need to make a decision about Jack,” she murmured against Alek’s chest. “This limbo isn’t helping anyone–not him, not the team, not us.”
Alek nodded, his chin brushing her hair. “What are you thinking?”
“That sometimes the kindest cut is the cleanest,” Emma pulled back to meet his eyes. “When he complete. treatment–successful or not–we trade him. Fresh start for everyone.”
“You’re sure?”
Emma nodded, certainty settling over her like a mantle. “Some neutral zones can’t last forever. It’s time to move the game forward.”
Cross Checking
