Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) by Samantha Wayland

turned
back to Garrick. “He actually had already argued most everything you have as
far as the arena and how to expand its markets.”
    Garrick smiled at Rupert. “Great minds.”
    “But,” Reese continued before the men could bond over their
shared ideas, “he admits that in order for the team, as well as the arena, to
be more profitable, there would need to be some changes.”
    Garrick’s brows drew in. “What kind of changes?”
    “You need to win more. A championship.”
    Garrick winced. The Cats did all right, but they hadn’t won
a championship in all the time Garrick had been on the team, nor for almost a
decade before that.
    Reese nodded, smug. He clearly believed he’d just dealt the
coup de grâce.
    Savannah couldn’t let it stand. She stepped forward.
    “That’s completely doable.”

Chapter Eight
     
    Everyone turned to Savannah.
    She crossed her arms and tilted her chin defiantly in the
face of three disbelieving stares. When she shifted her weight over one leg,
the other stretched endlessly to one side. God , Garrick thought, those
legs are amazing.
    He tore his gaze away before he rightly earned the caveman
label.
    “The team could win more, but you’ll have to invest,” she
informed Reese. She lifted one eyebrow and pinned Reese with her bright green
stare, daring him to dismiss her.
    Garrick smiled. The legs were great, sure, but they weren’t
the best part.
    Reese shifted, crossing his arms and returning her
challenge. “Every time I invest in someone new and expensive, I lose them to
the NHL or one of their feeder teams, Ms. Morrison. It can be profitable, but
not sustainable for building a championship team.”
    “You don’t need better players, Mr. Lamont . You need
better talent management. You need to cut your dead weight and invest in better
training, management, and coaching.”
    “ Excuse me ?” Reese’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his
perfectly trimmed hair.
     “You’re counting too much on the raw talent,” she
explained, “and not enough on the people who can and will develop that talent
if you let them. What you need is discipline. If you get it, you can build a
winning team that also generates NHL talent—two profitable outcomes for you.”
    Reese’s huff of laughter was somewhere between patronizing
and insulting. Garrick forced himself to remain silent, confident Savannah
could still fight and win this battle.
    “You don’t believe me?” Savannah said with a little smile. “Fair
enough. How about an example? You kept the last trainer on board even though he
did jack-shit to strengthen your players, and in some cases made systematic
errors that probably shortened their careers.”
    Rupert’s mouth fell open.
    Garrick grinned. He was actually getting a little turned on.
She was magnificent.
    “Look at Sanders,” she went on. “He was gold in the net and
gone by twenty-five because he had no stamina. No discipline. And Gorensky, who
practically limped out of Moncton, only to go on and kick ass in Vancouver
after proper rehabilitation and a move to special teams to maximize his talents.”
    Rupert and Reese appeared slack-jawed as they continued to
stare at Savannah. If either of them so much as insinuated that a woman
shouldn’t be taking them to school about how to run a good hockey team, Garrick
would happily punch them in the nose.
    Savannah glanced at him, her eyes widening when she noticed his
wide smile. He winked at her. Her lips twitched before she turned back to their
hosts.
    In the blink of an eye, she launched into a complete
breakdown of the current team—each player, their strengths, their weaknesses. Then
the coaches. She strode across the room and they parted like the Red Sea before
following in her wake, gathering in front of the dart board. She used the
scoreboard chalk to draw out special team weaknesses in crisp white on green.
    Garrick wanted to laugh. Fuck, he had a raging hard-on now.
    Reese and Rupert were a rapt audience, asking