Seraphina returned to the office the next morning during the morning skate, refreshed and ready to tackle the day.  She felt much better than she had the day before.  After a long shower this morning and fifteen minutes of yoga, she was ready to get dressed in one of her favorite outfits – a blue blouse that brought out her eyes and a high-waisted pencil skirt with her favorite red-soled black high heels.  She straightened her hair and pulled it back so half was up in a small ponytail while the other half was left down, and her bangs were swept to the side of her face.

As she walked through, passing the rink, she was tempted to stay and watch.  She could see Brandon clearly, even though he was on the other side of the ice, and as usual, she was compelled to sit and watch him.  It was difficult for her to take her eyes off of him.

However, she didn’t want to make it obvious that they were together, especially since Bambridge made it a habit of running his mouth.  Instead, she took the elevator up to the third floor, where the offices and business administration for the team were located.  She said hello to their administrative secretary, a college kid who had been a Gulls’ fan since she was young.  She smiled in return but couldn’t meet Seraphina’s eye.  Seraphina furrowed her brow at the odd behavior but she refused to analyze it or get offended by it.  Instead, she kept her head held high as she walked down the long hallway to her office.

She opened her door and slid off her red coat, wrapping it around the back of her chair.  She took a seat and turned on her computer.  At that moment, her phone rang.  It was the admin secretary.  She furrowed her brow again.  If she had just gotten to her office and the phone was already ringing, she knew it was going to be a long day.

“Phil Bambridge for you,” Serena murmured.

Seraphina sighed.  “Patch him through,” she muttered.

There was a beat before Phil came on the line.  “Seraphina Hanson,” Phil said in a boisterous voice.  “How the hell are you?”

“Much better than your team,” she replied before she could stop herself.

There was a surprised pause and Seraphina could feel the awkwardness through the phone. She refused to allow it to affect her, however. She had done nothing wrong. Sure, the quip was somewhat underhanded but after everything he had said about her, she felt he deserved it just a little bit. She leaned back in her chair and was about to place her feet on the desk when her grandfather's voice snapped at her in her head and told her she better not dare, just as he had when she was a teenager and she would hang out here while he worked. Her eyes shifted to the blood stain in her office - formally his office - where he was murdered. They had offered to change the carpet but she refused. She liked the reminder that this used to be his, that in some kind of morbid way, he was still here.

"Yes, well." He paused and she could hear the smile back in his voice. "That's what I'm hoping to remedy, actually."

Seraphina rolled her eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I'm calling you to propose a trade," he said. She could still hear the smirk in his voice and she had to flex her fingers to keep her digits from curling into a fist.

"A trade," she stated, her tone flat. "And why would you think I would be willing to even humor a trade with you?"

"You're a business woman, aren't you?" he asked. "At least, your little blogger who interviewed me the other night certainly seems to think so. Prove it and engage in a trade."

"I have nothing to prove here, Phil," Seraphina said. "My team is going to make playoffs, your team is not. You're the one clamoring to switch things up now. I have a team I’m satisfied with."

"Interesting choice of words," Phil said. "By team, do you mean Brandon Thorpe or do you mean the whole team? I hear that sort of thing runs in your family."

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the bitterness of a man who doesn't understand what no means," Seraphina said, managing to transform her temper into quick wit. "I hope you've learned by now because, once again, I'm going to have to turn you down."

"You haven't even heard my offer out," Phil pointed out. "You at least have to hear it out before you reject it. That's GM 101."

"Why don’t you reserve your GM tips for someone who has less experience under your belt and for someone who actually needs it," Seraphina said. "As far as I'm concerned, my team is solid."

“You really think so?” Phil asked and she could hear the attitude in his voice with little restraint. “You don’t think I won’t go to the media about how you didn’t even entertain my trade offer? You know that’s not in good taste, Hanson.”

“I don’t think you get to tell me what’s in good taste when Harper Crawford spanked you in front of those sports journalists,” Seraphina said, leaning back in her chair. “But since this doesn’t sound as though you’re going to give this up anytime soon, I’d be happy to hear you out. I just want to let you know that your offer is going to be rejected. But go ahead and try.”

“I want Thorpe,” Bambridge said. “And I’m willing to give you Avery, Thompson, and Duke in exchange for him.”

Seraphina paused. Avery was a first line winger with thirty-seven goals under his belt already. Thompson was a star defenseman who was both offensive and defensive, which meant he wasn’t afraid to play up and involve himself in the play. He had thirteen goals, which was third in the league for defensemen. And Duke was a goalie with a couple of years under his belt. He was no Brandon Thorpe but he was an adequate replacement.

“I take your silence as a maybe?” Phil asked smugly.

Seraphina scowled but remembered he couldn’t see her from where she was. “Absolutely not,” she said. “I just can’t believe you’re that desperate that you’re willing to give away the core of your success for my goalie.”

“He is your goalie, isn’t he?” Phil said. There was something in his tone, something that sent warning alarms off. “I want him to be my goalie. He’s arguably the best in the league and I’m willing to give up these three players in order to acquire him. Hell, I’m even throwing in my starting goalie in return so you aren’t forced to start your backup. What do you say?”

“I say-“

“Before you respond, Seraphina,” he said. “I want you to think very carefully. We both know I’m overpaying for Thorpe. Yeah, he’s the best but he’s never even made the playoffs before. With Avery and Thompson, you’ll get the offense you need to score your goals that’ll get you the wins. You want a guaranteed seed spot? Give me Thorpe and you’ll get it.”

“There’s no way I’m giving you Thorpe,” she told him. “I don’t care who you offer.”

“Because you’re in love with him,” Phil stated. Before Seraphina could defend herself, Phil continued. “See, this is why you ladies should not be in charge of making important decisions in business. You let your feelings get in the way.”

“Tell me,” Seraphina said. “Why do you suddenly want Brandon? It wouldn’t be your pride talking, would it?”

“Thorpe is the best goalie in the league. I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try to acquire him for my team.”

Seraphina rolled her eyes. Just because he threw in one high-frequency vocabulary word did not mean he was suddenly good with words. She hated people who thought they were more important than they really were.

“That’s not happening,” she told him.

“I think you’re going to change your mind about that,” Phil said. There it was again, the smirk. The smugness.

“Well, you’re –“

“Don’t finish that sentence until you check your email, Seraphina,” Phil said in a sing-song voice. “Go ahead and check. I’ll wait.”

“Bambridge, I don’t have time for this,” Seraphina said even though she was bringing up her Outlook as she spoke. “Unlike you, I have a team who is probably going to make playoffs and you are just an annoying distraction. Now, can you please –“

She cut herself off when she noticed an email from Phil with attachments. She opened it up. There was nothing written, no text, but there were three grainy pictures of her and Brandon swept up in a passionate kiss.

“I take your silence as you received my email,” Phil said slowly.

“What is this about?” Seraphina said through gritted teeth. She wanted to make sure she kept her voice restrained. She didn’t want him to know that he had gotten to her in the worst way. Her emotions had to be controlled.

“I think you know exactly what this is about,” he said. “Look, Sera, we both know what’s going on between you and Thorpe. Hell, who am I to judge? But we also know it crosses the line of professionalism. GM’s and owners cannot date their players. If you don’t give me Thorpe for that extremely generous offer I made you, I’m going to release those photos.”

“This is blackmail,” Seraphina said slowly. Her eyes started to prick with tears and she clenched her teeth together to keep them at bay. There was no way she was going to allow herself to cry with Phil Bambridge on the phone.

“I like to think of it as motivation to do the right thing,” Phil said. “We both know you don’t want these pictures leaking. And I know I want Thorpe on my team. The decision is completely up to you. You have until the twenty-eighth. You know, since March first is the trade deadline.”

Seraphina hung up before he could get another word in. She didn’t want to hear what else Phil had to say. She didn’t want to lose her temper lest she start throwing things around her office like she was on the verge of doing. Her eyes found the blood stain underneath her desk. What once used to calm her pushed her over the edge and the tears started to fall.

She had no idea what she was going to do.