Chapter Forty-Four
Riley Thorne signs with Gordon; trouble over at the Yates Group?
Riley Thorne, expected to be high in the draft for the PWHL next year, has signed with The Gordon Group after a summer of being pursued by agencies big and small. Daughter of legendary Athenas center, Cassie O’Brien, and former D-man, Mike Thorne, Riley had been considering a working relationship with a smaller outfit like Lauren Yates’s newer boutique agency, but eventually decided that a more established firm would work better for her career. “We’re thrilled to have Riley on board,” CEO Tommy Gordon said. “We have the resources and drive to make sure her goals are met while also ensuring the personal touch. Smaller agencies might claim that as their primary benefit, but without the trust, those agent-client relationships will always suffer.” Generic platitudes from Gordon, or a dig at someone else in the industry?
* * *
Thorne’s decision to go with Gordon is surprising as she had expressed great admiration for Lauren Yates, who has a solid reputation for nurturing female talent. But word on the ice is that Yates has lost several clients in the last couple of months, and while the reasons might be unclear at this time, what is increasingly evident is that Yates can’t rely on her connections to the Chicago Rebels organization to keep her business afloat.
-@ Coby “Big Dog” Dawson, ESPN
Lauren
* * *
On Saturday, I woke up feeling a little blue because I wouldn’t see Alexei today. Ridiculous, I knew, but I had become used to his firm hand when it came to fixing up my house—as well as his even firmer hand in teasing delicious orgasms from my needy body. But the weekends were for him and his father. I didn’t know how he would manage once the season started, but I was also resolved to ensure he had Team Nazarov in place. The Rebels fam was large and generous, and I would use it for good.
It probably wouldn’t hurt to pick up some cinnamon rolls and deliver them in person. Who would object to Ann Sather’s sweet treats? I was contemplating the errands I needed to run today, including prep for the call I had scheduled with Arkady Volkov on Tuesday, when I heard a knock on the door.
Alexei and Sasha stood on my stoop.
“Hello, you two! What a nice surprise. I was just thinking about you.”
“I hope so. Papa, you remember Lauren?”
“Of course. Wonderful skater, always winning.”
“That’s me. Winning is my middle name. Come in, come in.”
Alexei settled his dad on the sofa in the freshly painted living room.
“Maya suggested that I should take him more places. I think I have been concerned that he would throw a tantrum or hurt himself if I stepped outside the routine. I know the boys are working on the deck today and I thought that maybe we could?—”
“Set him up with a puzzle in the garden?”
He raised his shopping bag. “How did you guess?”
“I have a new one for him.”
He stared at me, that cool blue gaze warming with each passing second. “You have a puzzle for my father?”
“There’s a toy store in Riverbrook and they carry some with bigger pieces. This is a Chicago-themed one, so I thought maybe?—”
I didn’t get a chance to finish as Alexei had taken me in his arms and buried his face in my neck. He remained silent, holding me tight, and I happily stayed with him, absorbing the tension that he had been living with for so long.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly into my hair.
“Of course. And if you like that, just wait until you hear my other idea.”
“If it’s anywhere near as good as that one, then I’ll be very generous with the orgasms later.”
“Orgasms,” Sasha murmured, which sent both of us into peals of laughter.
Alexei stood on the edge of my destroyed deck, gazing at the scene in the backyard. We had set up a table away from the house, where it was a little quieter and out of harm’s way. A battle for the ages had just commenced.
Sitting across from Sasha was Dante Moretti, former Rebels general manager, and the only person I knew who played chess and looked like a movie star-slash-supermodel while doing it. They had been locked in for the last thirty minutes, and from what I could tell, the game was coming to a head.
“How will he feel if he loses?”