Power Play - Brittney Mulliner Page 0,16

me no hints.

“We need to have a chat.” She nodded toward another hall, and the three women turned, expecting me to follow.

I cast a longing glance in the direction of the showers before trailing after them. Was I in trouble? It felt like it. Was there an interview I missed? An appointment I forgot about?

They spun and faced me as a united front. They were so in sync it creeped me out. I’d seen the Pride work in mysterious ways like this, but I was never the target. Two years on the team, and I’d managed to successfully fly under their radar.

They were entertaining and slightly terrifying when they ganged up on one of the guys, but I’d always watched from a safe distance. I didn’t like being on this side of it.

My body felt itchy.

“It’s come to our attention that there was an incident in Raleigh,” Chloe began.

I glanced at Lucy but she remained stoic.

I’d been confronted like this before, usually by one of my parents. I knew not to give anything away. Admit nothing until they brought it up. I wasn’t going to risk getting in trouble for something else if they didn’t know about Taylor.

“What incident?” I replied calmly.

“One involving a scorned woman and a glass of wine.” One of Chloe’s brows raised. Well, at least we were all on the same page. “Were there other incidents I should know about?”

“Not that I can recall.” Good thing I watched those lawyer shows growing up. Under interrogation, you said you didn’t remember or pleaded the fifth. I had a feeling the second option wouldn’t fly with Chloe. What did the Constitution matter when she was the interrogator, judge, and jury in one?

“There are pictures, Dumoulin,” she stated, and I fought the urge to cringe.

Reveal nothing!

“Is it bad?” I’d never actually been in this position. I wasn’t usually someone PR had to deal with, unlike her brother and husband.

“There are several theories circulating. Most are saying she’s a jersey chaser you must have been with while playing the Storm in the past. Others are getting more creative.”

I glanced at Lucy. Why was she here? Had she already told Chloe the truth?

“I told her it’s your story to tell,” Lucy admitted.

“She’s an ex. We dated in high school.”

Madi seemed surprised. “Did you know she lived there?”

“No. We hadn’t spoken in four years.” I sighed, really wishing I was showering and not reliving this. “I deserved the wine, probably more than that.”

Lucy scoffed, and I turned to her. “Taylor and I talked yesterday and cleared things up. There won’t be any more incidents.”

Chloe nodded. “Good.”

“You spoke to her?” Lucy asked.

I nodded. “I ran into her at the hotel restaurant. I don’t think we’re necessarily friends or anything, but I don’t think she’s going to throw her drink on me if we ever see each other again.”

She pursed her lips but stayed silent. I knew Lucy didn’t think highly of me, but what else could I do about it at this point?

“I’ll try to kill this story, but in the future try to avoid these situations,” Chloe ordered.

“Thank you. I will.” I turned and hurried to the locker room before anyone else could interrupt me.

My first PR situation. It felt like a big moment. Like a milestone as an athlete. I’d really made it if there were people on the internet that cared enough to write stories about me.

“You survived the wrath of my sister,” Erik stated with a growing smirk.

“I did.” I sat and untied my skates.

“Welcome to the club.” He patted my shoulder and walked away. I shook my head and pulled off the rest of my gear as fast as I could.

I opened my condo door after practice, and my heart dropped.

Carmen stood in my kitchen, moving around a couple of to-go boxes. “Hey, babe.”

She walked toward me, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder, and stood up on her toes to kiss my cheek. I was too annoyed to respond.

“I got that grilled salmon you like from Sargino’s.” She smiled, opened one of the white boxes, and slid it to me.

I blinked at the fish, rice, and vegetables and then back at her. “How did you get in here?”

“Oh, I just told Frank I forgot my key.”

I’d need to talk to my doorman about that. She didn’t have a key. For a reason.

“I appreciate you bringing dinner over––”

“Of course. I can only imagine how tired you must be, so I thought I’d take one thing off your