Page 122 of Wild Card 13

Not Ezra’s daughter.

Not the woman who could turn a meeting packet into a weapon.

Her.

The girl who used to sit beside me in Betsy with her knees tucked under her, arguing that people were more interesting when they didn’t know they were being watched.

The girl who saw everything.

Alois’s gaze shifted to the screen, and for once, his face changed.

Not much.

But enough.

He understood something about this event that the rest of us didn’t yet.

Bea’s fingerprints, probably.

That woman could get Müller to walk into traffic if she asked softly enough.

Sarah looked at me. “Buzz, you’ll be assigned to Lucy for the duration of the event. She’ll manage your schedule, transitions, and any donor or family interaction that needs coordination.”

I should not have liked the sound of that.

Lucy looked like she liked it about as much as dental surgery. “Given the short turnaround,” she said, “I’ll need your full cooperation.”

“You’ll have it,” I replied, the words spilling over my lips too quickly.

Sarah looked at me again. Coach did too. Ezra’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in warning. More like he had finally noticed a sound in another room. Alois stared directly at the table.

Lucy adjusted her glasses. “Good.”

“One question,” Coach said.

Lucy turned toward him. “Yes?”

“Is Burns the right fit if the goal is controlled community interaction?”

I opened my mouth, mostly because defending myself was a reflex older than my NHL career.

Lucy beat me to it. “Yes.” She looked at Coach, not me. “Burns is good with people,” she went on. “He’s comfortable with fans, he knows how to keep energy light, and kids respond well to him. If expectations are clear, he’ll be fine.”

Not exactly a love letter. But, still, Lucy had defended me. Professionally. Carefully. With enough distance to preserve both of us. But she had defended me.

My throat went tight in a way I deeply resented.

Coach nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”

Sarah added, “His public engagement metrics are strong.”

I leaned back. “That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever said about me.”

“Do not make me regret defending you,” Lucy snapped without looking at me.

A laugh slipped around the table. Even Ezra smiled. For half a second, it felt easy in the way Lucy and I used to be, before we learned how badly two people could hurt each other by saying nothing.

Then Rawlings shifted again. “Has Bea confirmed Alois’s media parameters?” he asked.