Chapter Text
Wednesday, May 29th, 2024
Houston, Texas
Cerulean blues reflected through the sun-soaked glass as they looked down upon the city, registering the activity below.
From Agatha’s office high atop Harkness Tower, the tallest building adorning the skyline, practically all of downtown Houston was visible.
Minute Maid Park, NRG Stadium, The Toyota Center, the Brown Convention Center, and the Aquarium all faced the scrutiny of Agatha’s gaze as she worked her tongue against her cheek and pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off her impending headache.
Her long fingers were perfectly manicured, painted black, and adorned with rings of varying shapes and sizes. Her fitted burgundy suit was crisp, hugging and accentuating every curve perfectly. Agatha’s thick brown waves tumbled down her back, and her signature red-bottomed stilettos shifted slightly as she turned to face her Aunt Lilia.
How the older woman was able to sit calmly in one of the leather chairs across from Agatha’s was beyond her at the moment.
“I’m going to need you to say that again, because surely, I just went temporarily insane and had a hallucination.” She huffed in disbelief.
“No, dear. Your mental state is surprisingly sound, all things considered. I did, in fact, buy the Houston Comets.” Lilia stated calmly, her phone in her hand as she replied to her emails with an irritating air of nonchalance that definitely didn’t befit the situation if you asked Agatha, though no one had.
“So it’s your mental stability that’s in question then. Good to know.” She snapped. “Why the fuck would you buy a hockey team? And not just any team, the absolute worst team in the entire NHL! You don’t even like hockey!”
“I was bored, and you want a head coaching job.” Lilia shrugged like this didn’t just flip Agatha’s entire fucking day on its head.
“ESPN is going to have a fucking field day, you realize that, right?” The younger woman stepped to the well-stocked mini-bar in the corner of her office and selected a bottle of Irish whiskey. “Harkness, too good for assistant coach?” The sounds of ice clinking and whiskey pouring into the tumbler filled the office.
“Harkness’s aunt buys a team and gives her the reins. Was that the only way she would ever become head coach, Sean?” Deepening her voice and throwing back the drink, she replied to herself. “Well, John, this is a male-dominated sport. She has shown that she knows what she’s doing with a man at the helm, but she’s an Olympic figure skater, not a hockey player. Agatha Harkness is glitter, not grit.” Pouring another glass, she sat back in her chair with a frustrated sigh.
“It’s going to be a shit-show, Lils. I’ve been working for years to prove myself to these neanderthals. Now I’m going to have to work three times as hard to prove my worth because you bought a team and presented me with a job on a silver platter.”
“No. Because we have first pick in the upcoming draft, and I know exactly who I want. Plus, you’ve worked three times harder than everyone else your entire life. Why should that change now?” The kooky bitch had a point there. Not that she’d admit it out loud.
Her aunt pulled up a video on her phone and handed it to her over the large cherry desk.
Raising an eyebrow, she glanced back at the old bat. “You’ve got to be kidding me. The first woman to ever declare for the NHL draft?”
“I have already told you that I am quite serious. Yes, her. Rio Vidal. She’s good, can keep up with the men on the ice, not just as a goalkeeper.”
“Aunt Lils, did you learn hockey terms?” Agatha smirked at the sudden turn of events.
“I am trying. I did just spend a very large amount of money, and this deal has been secretively in the works for months.”
“Months?” Agatha gaped. “This isn’t just a whim to you, is it?”
“Agatha, surely even you know it takes months for these things to happen— paperwork, red tape. Besides, one of the last teams you interviewed with told you ‘no’ simply because they thought a beautiful woman would be a distraction for the players. I don’t appreciate blatant misogyny.” The older woman waved her hand dismissively.
Agatha hummed in acceptance. “I just assumed you threw money at Old Stan and he took it and ran, with as much of a money pit as the team is.” She set down her empty glass. “How long do I have to make a decision?”
“Are you actually going to say no?”
Agatha leaned back, staring out the window. It wasn’t that she would say no, but she needed to think it over first. Discuss it with the people in her life. It would mean more travel and less hands-on involvement with the oil company. She would be in the spotlight, which meant public scrutiny, and a lot of it.
Turning back to Lilia, she chewed on the inside of her lip while thinking over her words. “I have to consider Nicky. I don’t want to leave him with a nanny.”
“Between Wanda and us, I think he’ll be fine. You can also bring him to work. He’ll be a better assistant coach than anyone else we could hire anyway.”
The head of Harkness Oil rubbed her temples. “What about the company?”
Lilia scoffed. “Like you don’t leave most of the day-to-day to Pietro.”
“You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”
Lilia smiled. “About time you got that through your thick skull. You have twenty-four hours to sign, my girl.”
With that, the gray-haired woman stood from her chair, crossed the room to kiss her beloved niece on the cheek, and exited the office.
Agatha ran her fingers through her wild mane, trying desperately to figure out what the hell her aunt had just gotten her into.
⛸️💫👠
Agatha walked through the front door of her best friend’s house and straight to the kitchen, setting her bag down heavily on the table. “Honey, I’m home!” She yelled out.
“Mama!” Her six-year-old son, Nicky, cried out, running into the room, meeting her in an enthusiastic hug.
“Hey kiddo, how was your day?”
“The twins and I built a fort!”
Agatha smiled down at her only child. “Did you now? That sounds like fun, my love.”
“It was!” Nicky exclaimed, his grin wide. “We took all of the pillows from around the house and used the couches in the living room as walls!”
Agatha snorted, “I take it back, it sounds like you gave Auntie Wanda a headache.”
“He could never.” Agatha turned her head to find her best friend grinning from ear to ear. “My two, on the other hand…” the redhead didn’t need to finish her sentence. Her twins had done it for her by flying through the kitchen with all the chaos of a category-five hurricane, fighting over a toy. Their screams bounced off the walls and down the hall as they vanished as quickly as they’d appeared.
Agatha clicked her tongue. “Nicky, honey, why don’t you go mediate for the twins while I talk to Auntie Wanda?” Her son gave her a skeptical look that rivaled one of her own, but he relented with a nod.
Nicholas was entirely too observant for a child his age.
“Okay, Ags,” Wanda stated, her green eyes boring a hole into Agatha’s soul. “I've seen that look before. What’s her name?”
Agatha scoffed. “Technically, her name is the Houston Comets.”
Wanda’s eyes widened. “Ags, what do you mean?”
“My goddamed Aunt bought me a hockey team.” Agatha deadpanned.
Wanda shrugged, “It’s better than her knitting you a sweater.”
“Wanda, be serious.”
“I am! Do you remember those horrible matching sweaters we had for every competition growing up? I love your aunts immensely, but those things were itchy.” Wanda placed a hand on her hip. “You’ve been trying to get a head coaching position for years. So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that this is nepotism at its finest, Wands. I wanted to earn the position on my own merit. Not be handed one.” She crossed her arms and blew a stray hair out of her face.
“It’s a male-dominated sport, Aggie. You were technically handed your first assistant coaching position, and you’ve done a better job than anyone. You’ve been the assistant for three championship teams. This really is the only way it’s going to happen.”
Agatha sighed, dropping into a chair. “She gave me twenty-four hours to decide. The combine is June third through the eighth.”
Wanda plopped into the chair next to her. “That’s Monday.”
“Yes.”
“Today is Wednesday.”
“So glad you know your days of the week, Wands.”
“So, you’ll be leaving this weekend. I’ll keep Nicky.” Wanda decided.
Agatha tilted her head to the side. “I haven’t even accepted the position yet.”
“Yes, you have. Is she keeping the same assistants?” Wanda stood and walked to the refrigerator to start preparing dinner.
“It’s my decision, I need to talk to them first.” Agatha groaned. This was not how she wanted her evening to pan out.
“Go talk to your men. I’ll see you later, Coach.” Wanda smiled affectionately at her best friend.
“I haven’t signed anything yet, you redheaded demon.” The brown-haired woman stood, snatching her bag up. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Wanda scoffed. “Please, knowing where those two probably are? Nicky can spend the night.”
The oil tycoon rolled her eyes and called for her son, who came running back into the kitchen.
“Yes, Mama? Are we going home now?”
“No, honey,” she knelt to meet his eyes, and tucked a strand of brown hair behind his ear. “Your Memaw asked me a very serious question today, and I have to talk to a few people first before I give her an answer. I shouldn’t be out too late. I love you.”
He sighed and hugged her. “I just got out of school for the summer, Mama. We are going to do something fun, right?”
“Of course! There’s always the big family trip, and you and I always go somewhere. I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”
“Okay, Mama. Have fun!” He flashed a big, gap-toothed grin and ran back to join the twins upstairs.
“Wish me luck, I guess.” Agatha waved as she walked out of the door to her car. She lived next door to Wanda, but on an evening in late May, she was not walking even the shortest of distances in the cloying heat.
Pulling her black SUV into the three-car garage, she parked next to the Aston Martin Vanquish with its custom deep purple wrap that she’d be taking out after she changed.
Stilettos clicked against the dark hardwoods as she strolled through the empty house to her bedroom and directly into her large walk-in. Stepping out of her shoes, she stripped off her suit and shirt, flipping through her options. Knowing she had to fit in where she was going, she chose a pair of white suit pants and an oversized black suit jacket.
Forgoing a shirt and keeping her black lace bra on, she quickly dressed and slipped back into her heels. After a quick stop by the bathroom to attempt to tame her hair and touch up her makeup, she was back in her garage, easing into the sports car and sliding her sunglasses on.
⛸️💫👠
“The Walnut Room” was an exclusive members-only men’s club of sorts in downtown Houston. Located on the top floor of one of the classier hotels in the city, with three floors of private residences below it.
Agatha was the only woman on the roster.
Accessible only by a hidden elevator, pin code, and special keycard, Agatha entered the way she did everywhere she went— like she owned the place. She didn’t, but one wrong move by anyone, and she would buy it before anyone dared to question her.
The smells of aged whiskey and inflated egos filled the room as she walked by the familiar faces of Houston’s wealthy men over the age of twenty-one, most well over thirty.
Televisions were tuned to various games or news stations, which few paid attention to. The men who frequented the establishment did so to gamble, make business deals, be surrounded by the gorgeous women who worked there, and blow off steam.
It wasn’t a strip or sex club, though there were multiple private rooms for a variety of uses. Agatha had her own apartment on the floor below. She didn’t pay for sex; she didn’t have to. However, she tipped well, made good conversation, and usually left with at least one of the girls at the end of the night.
The space also meant she never took a woman home. She didn’t want to expose Nicky to that side of her. He didn’t need to see that his mother was a womanizer. He also didn’t need to be introduced to someone who wouldn’t be a permanent fixture in his life.
Searching the crowd, she found her targets at a high-top table near a TV, where SportsCenter was playing. Thankfully, until she signed the contract, nothing could be mentioned by the obnoxious anchors.
“If it’s not my two favorite washed-up Olympians.” She approached the table, a gorgeous blonde with a flirty smile, already setting a glass of water and a tumbler of scotch on the table for her. Agatha immediately handed her a crisp hundred-dollar bill from her inside pocket and winked.
The taller of the two men, thin, with shoulder-length brown hair, glanced up at her with bright green eyes. “Ah. Has the ice queen come to gloat?”
Having sat across from each other, she took a seat on the side between them. “Of course not, but you do know why I’m here, then, Lauffeyson?”
Brushing his hair behind his ear, he nodded, looking at the laptop, iPad, and papers scattered before him. “Of course we do. Calderu bought the team. Makes sense, she made you coach.”
Agatha perched her chin in her hand as she watched Loki Lauffeyson carefully, reading his body language and demeanor. Norwegian, he had played in a few Olympics while she was still skating. They had become fast friends, despite being from competing countries. The queers always stuck together. He had played for one of the teams she had been an assistant for, and most importantly, they respected each other.
On her other side was Scott Lang. A few years younger, American, always dumbfounded that a figure skater hung out with the hockey players. He gaped at her as he finally blurted out, “Aggie, you can’t be here! You’re a woman.”
Raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow, she turned to look at the other assistant coach. Messy brown hair, puppy dog eyes that matched Loki’s. He was the perfect example of a Golden Retriever personality type. “Half the cretins in here don’t qualify as men, Scott.”
Lang, like Loki, had played for an Olympic team and professionally. A great winger until an injury ended his career, and he then began coaching. Surveying the room, he turned back to Agatha. “Point taken.” Exchanging a look with Loki, he took a sip of his drink. “So, you’re our new coach?”
“I haven’t signed anything yet. I wanted to speak with both of you.”
“I have those statistics you were working on, Mr. Lauffeyson.” A woman sidled up to Loki’s side, a large folder in her hand.
“Thank you, Chandra.” He exchanged the folder for several large bills. “Make sure you call me as soon as you get that MBA. Mobius is always looking for new agents.”
“Yes, sir,” She grinned before turning to Agatha. “Ms. Harkness, can I get you anything, or take your jacket?”
“Can I get a Greek salad, hon? I have a feeling we’ll be here awhile.” She winked, her hand brushing against the young woman’s. “I’ll keep the jacket. Wouldn’t want to flash the place.” Her smile was predatory as the waitress blushed and walked away, whispering to several others.
“You’re terrible, Agatha,” Loki smirked.
“I don’t stand a fucking chance with you two around.” Scott groused, taking a drink. “What do the numbers say?”
Opening the folder, Loki shuffled around and plugged numbers into his laptop. “That Chandra doesn’t need an MBA.” He continued typing before leaning back, eyes sliding to Agatha. “What do you know so far?”
“I know the Comets suck.”
Scott let out a low whistle. “That’s putting it nicely.”
“However, the bones are there. We cut the fat. There’s no need to carry a full roster. You lost your starting center and right winger. Your backups aren’t good enough to replace them. Now, Lilia knows who she wants for center, and I know who I want for winger; both will be at the combine. We keep the other four starters. We don’t need a full fifty-man roster. Helps us put more money into the team and staff, gives us more cap to work with.” The three of them were leaning forward, speaking in a hushed tone.
“Who does Lilia want?” Scott asked, chewing on a fry.
The CEO caught Loki’s eye, a silent conversation passed quickly between them, and he shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack.” She deadpanned.
“Fuck, if the entire sports world wasn’t going to laugh at us before, they will now.” Loki groaned.
Scott looked between the two of them, a look of confusion on his face. “Excuse me, I’m not tuned in to this particular frequency of ESP. Enlighten me, please?”
The other man looked at him with a sigh of frustration. “Calderu wants Rio Vidal.”
“From the PWHL?” Scott’s face lit up. “That’s fantastic! She’s an amazing player!”
Agatha tossed back her scotch just as Chandra set her Greek salad in front of her. “Would you like another drink, Agatha?” She asked sweetly, biting her bottom lip.
She smirked, handing the woman her tumbler, ensuring that their fingers brushed. “Only if you’re the one bringing it to me, hon.” Chandra’s cheeks tinged pink for the second time, and she nodded.
“She’s a woman, Scott.” Loki deadpanned once the waitress took her leave. “A woman will own us. Our head coach will be a woman, and now our center will be a woman too? Not to mention, all three are lesbians, I’m gay, a few of our players have gay rumors…” his voice trailed off as he thought of the implications.
“Then we have more pride nights, and they sell out,” Agatha added, before pulling up a video on her phone. “I also want this kid.” Propping her phone up between them, she pressed play on a video of a fresh-faced teen from New York City that she’d been keeping an eye on for the past two years.
“Peter Parker?” Lang asked, doubt threaded in his tone.
“Just graduated, led all of his high school and travel teams to championships. Pure, raw talent. Raised by his aunt after his parents died, puts his all into hockey. Look at his form.”
Loki took a closer look, watching Parker effortlessly duck under a defender's arm. “He’s good. So, you’re taking the position?”
“Do you think I really have a choice?”
“No.” Her new assistant coaches replied simultaneously.
“Exactly. Do I have your support?” She asked them.
“Of course, Aggie.” Scott shot her his dopiest of smiles. Agatha speared an olive and a piece of feta onto her fork and popped it into her mouth.
“Yes, but it’s going to be hard, and you’ll have to do a lot of convincing with the guys. Especially with trimming the roster, that’s going to involve the union.” Loki considered her seriously. “Mobius wanted me to retire from coaching this year. You have to talk to him, too.”
Chandra returned with her scotch and chose to hand it to her directly rather than set it down. “Here you go, Agatha.” Their fingers brushed again; the warmth of the woman’s skin provided a delicious contrast against the cold of the glass.
Agatha set her fresh drink down and caught Chandra’s wrist with her hand as she started to back away; her thumb traced over the waitress’s quickening pulse. “You keep running off without getting your tip, hon.”
“Oh.” Chandra breathed out, surprised. Such a sweet thing, really.
She let go of her wrist and reached into her inside pocket, deliberately letting the woman see the lace of her bra and the swell of her breast. When she looked back up at Chandra, she found that her pupils were on the verge of blowing.
‘Why not help them along?’ Agatha thought, and folded the hundred she’d retrieved and tucked it inside the ‘v’ of the waitress’s bustier top without breaking eye contact, and hooked her finger into the lace, giving it a gentle tug. Not enough to pull the woman towards her, but enough to elicit a reaction. Chandra gasped, and black eclipsed green. There it is. Exactly what Agatha was looking for.
“L-let me know if you need anything else.” Chandra stammered out.
“Oh, trust me, I will.” She purred. The waitress walked away, visibly flustered. Breaking her would be fun.
“Un-fucking-believable.” Scott grumbled.
She turned her attention back to the two men as if nothing had happened. “I’ll swing by the ranch tomorrow. We’re heading to Buffalo on Friday. I’ve already had my assistant make arrangements, and we’re taking the jet.” She shot off a quick text to Wanda. Damn her for being right about Nicky staying the night. “You realize, once I sign this contract, we’ll be all over that thing.” She nodded toward the flatscreen.
“For someone who wasn’t sure she was taking the job, you sure were prepared in a very short amount of time.” Loki drawled.
Agatha shrugged. “I knew it wasn’t an offer as much as it was an order.”
Scott took the iPad from Loki and flipped through a few tapes from the previous season. “What other plans and strategies do you have, Coach H?”
“Call me that again, and I’ll cut out your tongue, Lang.” Agatha sneered with a pointed finger, “We’ll discuss it all at the combine. I want to have an impromptu meeting with the team on Friday morning before we leave, let them know where we stand.”
“That sounds reasonable to me,” Loki stated. “Thor is going to have a conniption when he realizes you’re his new coach. He’s never gotten over the heartbreak that you being a lesbian caused him.”
Agatha rolled her eyes and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Your brother is either going to wax poetic or go full-on dude bro. It’ll depend on just how pissed the others are.”
Agatha finished off her salad as well as her second drink in companionable silence. Loki and Scott, too honed in on their spreadsheets for conversation, which suited her just fine.
The second her empty glass hit the table, Chandra came back. “Would you like another?”
“Wrong question.” Her fingers trailed lightly along the woman’s arm. Her breath hitched, and Agatha smirked. “The question is, would I like to get the check and then bring you to my apartment downstairs? The answer is yes.” Agatha’s voice had taken on a lower, huskier timbre.
Chandra gasped. “I um, I can bring you your check, but my shift isn’t finished.”
Agatha hummed. “Tell your boss you’re coming home with me and you won’t get into trouble.”
Chandra leaned in closer. “I don’t even like… I mean, I’ve never been with a woman before.” The waitress confessed in her ear, her breath ragged. Agatha chuckled darkly.
“I prefer to be called mommy, but I can be daddy if it eases your nerves.” She cooed as her arm snaked around the woman’s waist.
“Let me get your check and my things,” Chandra replied.
“Good girl.”
The woman practically ran away to complete her tasks.
“That's not fucking fair.” Scott almost whined. “She was flirting with me before you showed up.”
Agatha snorted. “You should’ve tried harder then, Lang.”
“You barely tried at all!” He exclaimed.
Yeah, it really hadn’t taken much. It never did.
She waved her hand dramatically over herself. “When you look like this, the world is your playground.” Agatha spotted her date for the night walking back over out of the corner of her eye and preemptively tossed a couple of hundreds onto the table. “Have a good night, boys. I know I will.”
⛸️💫👠
Thursday, May 30th, 2024
Outside of Houston
Late Thursday morning, Agatha pulled her purple Jeep up to the front of the house on Loki and Mobius’s ranch forty-five minutes west of Houston, Nicky in tow.
“Mama, why is it called Mischief Manor, again?” the six-year-old asked, climbing out of the back.
“Because Loki is named after the Norse god of mischief, and wanted a slightly more elegant house, love,” she answered with a hand on his head. “This was the compromise.” She informed her son, tossing her keys into her Birken.
Jesus fuck it’s hot out here. She thought, already missing the car’s AC. She was glad she’d had the forethought to wear jean shorts and a tee. They hadn’t even made it to the actual heat of the summer, and the state was already sweltering.
“A manor in the middle of nowhere?” Nicky asked incredulously.
Agatha laughed, “Don’t insult a cowboy’s ranch. It isn’t polite.”
“I was only asking.” Her son defended.
“I know, my love.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“Howdy, you two.” Loki’s blonde husband greeted, stepping off the porch, smiling down at Nicky, though already eyeing Agatha warily. “Why don’t you head back to the stables and help Loki with the horses, pip-squeak?”
“Can I ride one?” The little boy asked excitedly.
“As long as it’s okay with your Mama,” Mobius confirmed.
“Can I, Mama, please?” He asked, giving her his best puppy eyes.
How could she say no to that face?
“Of course, be sure to wear a riding helmet.”
“I will!” Her child promised, darting off.
Ensuring Nicky was out of earshot, he turned back to Agatha, the smile he had seconds prior already gone. “No, Agatha.”
“Why?” Her tone was genuine, following him back into the house. The air conditioning breezed through her thick hair, which she refused ever to tie up, and she sighed in relief.
Being a native Texan, she should be used to the heat, but she’d spent the majority of her life on ice rinks.
“Other than the constant vitriol and homophobia?” He sneered, veering into the kitchen.
“We can change that. I’m hot, I know what I’m doing, unlike the last coach. I’ll be putting my own money into the team; we work well together, and you like me. Nicky will even help.” Settling onto a stool, she took the water and breakfast burrito he offered.
“You can’t use your looks for everything, Agatha.” He deadpanned.
“Sure, I can. What’s the point of being a solid ten if I can’t use it to my advantage?” She swallowed a bite of burrito. “You have to admit, it will pull a lot of fans.”
He sighed, leaning against the counter. “I know it’s Houston, and we’re more liberal here, but it’s still Texas, and still sports. You, Calderu, Sam, Bucky, us, and now Vidal? Might as well call the team the Houston Homos.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad name! We could adopt a rainbow logo and skate out to ‘Dancing Queen’ every home game.” Agatha stated, tossing her hands up, palms open.
Mobius gave her a sharp glare, and she cleared her throat. Right, jokes and charm weren’t going to win him over. Got it. She was having entirely too many too serious conversations this week for her liking.
“I won’t let anything happen to anyone, you know that. I’m already hiring extra security, besides. Hockey is slightly less homophobic. With all the hockey romances in the past few years, it’s pulled a lot of women.” Agatha argued seriously, taking a larger bite of her food.
“I just don’t know, Agatha.” His eyes focused on Loki leading Nicky on one of the horses out back.
She followed his gaze and was silent for a few moments before sliding off the stool and wiping the crumbs from her hands. “Tell ya what. He stays on this season. If anything happens, or we have a losing season, he retires. But, if it doesn’t and we have a winning season, he stays for as long as he wants.” Standing in front of him, one side of her mouth curled into a half smile. “I have a lot riding on this, too, cowboy. What d’ya say?”
“You two are too much alike.” He stared down at the hand she extended. “Wanda agreed to this, too?”
“Of course she did. She’s helping with Nicky, and Natasha will occasionally assist with training. They jumped on board the ship without me even asking. Hell, without me even signing.”
“Fine, but if anything goes sideways, he’s done.” Shaking hands, he met her eyes. “Don’t make me regret this, Harkness.
“If I had a nickel…”
Well, that would be a lot of fucking nickels.
⛸️💫👠
Friday, May 31st, 2024
Houston, Texas
Standing on the floor of the Toyota Center, the three coaches looked up at the team in the stands.
No one looked particularly happy to see Agatha standing in between Loki and Scott, clearly in place of their previous head coach. Lilia Calderu stood in front of them, microphone in hand.
Not that she needed it. Her voice carried over everything.
“Hello, team. I am Lilia Calderu, the new owner of the Houston Comets.”
The players began talking amongst themselves automatically. As expected, the chatter didn’t sound overly friendly.
There had been rumors for days, but they had been able to keep everything out of the media. That would end that night with a press conference in New York. Their newly hired press relationship representative, Jennifer Kale, had arranged everything.
“Quiet down,” Lilia commanded with an air of authority. “Those of you native to Texas, especially to Houston, most likely know who I am. We are meeting here because the practice facility is currently under renovation. I know this is your off-season, so I will keep this brief. The press conference announcing the new ownership and coaching changes is happening tonight, and we wanted to make sure you heard it from us first. Most of you will recognize the name, as she is a former Olympian and a well-decorated athlete herself. She has also been on the coaching staff for three Stanley Cup teams.” Turning, Lilia extended her hand, gesturing toward her niece.
“Agatha Harkness.”
The moment Lilia had said the pronoun ‘she’, muttering had begun once again. Chaos then ensued once the team's worst fears were confirmed.
Agatha, head held high, heels clicking on the concrete floor, stepped forward and spoke, her voice rising above the racket with a deadly tone. “Knock it off and stop acting like a bunch of middle school boys.” Her eyes raked over the fifty men before her as she caught a few lingering snippets of conversation.
“Let’s get a few things out of the way, shall we?” She clapped her hands together and whirled on the toe of her red bottoms, glaring at any player whose eyes dared to meet her stern ocean blues. “Any sexual harassment, and you’re out. Domestic violence, out. Homophobia, gone. Don’t be an asshole.” Her gaze settled on the front row as she took in her four starters. “You four are leaders, but you don’t have to be.” She shrugged, unbothered. “Acting like a dickhead will only cause me to ensure that the door actually hits you square in the ass on the way out.” Scanning the section where her team sat, she continued. “The two men behind me have both played for and coached with me. Do not think you can go crying to Daddy because Mommy said no.” Agatha faux-pouted.
“There will be major changes. Some of you have played for me over the past decade, and you know how I work. I expect complete dedication during the season. If you want off this team, that’s fine, but don’t expect me to take you back, ever.” Her words carried a tone of finality that had daggers being thrown her way.
“We also will not be carrying a full roster of fifty. We will have the standard twenty-three, and then start with twenty of you either in the minor leagues or what have you. I checked your contracts with the union, and it’s all legal. Several of you are up for renewal.” Her hand came up to silence the mounting outrage. “Your job is to stay healthy. This allows us to pay you more and invest more in staff and equipment. I’ve looked at the budget from the past few years. It's abysmal, and I’m going to work to change that for the better. Remember, I’m the third richest person in the world for a reason.”
Agatha took a deep breath and braced for impact. She knew the next part would really rile them up. She kept going, her voice sharp and authoritative. “Beginning at training camp, we start at zero. You earn your time on the ice; no one has a guaranteed role. I don’t give a shit about your stats. If your performance during camp and daily practice is lackluster, that tells me what I need to know. Many of you are over the age of thirty-five and should be considering retirement. Not another season.”
As anger erupted around her and echoed into the stadium, she gracefully turned on a heel to leave. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, team. I have a combine to get to.”
Loki whistled lowly behind her. “I just remembered why they call you the Ice Queen.”
“Partially due to my love of temperature play.” She smirked, leading them to a waiting car outside, her assistant, Birdie, joining them once they hit the tunnel under the stands.
“Agatha,” Birdie interrupted, an iPad in one hand, and her boss’s purple Stanley in the other. Agatha accepted the cup with a fluid motion and kept walking, taking a sip of her Dr. Pepper Zero with lime. “The jet is ready, you have the conference tonight at eight Eastern time, a meeting with the board of directors while in the air, as well as the commissioner of the league. Oh, and seven different women called. They all left messages.”
That momentarily stopped Agatha in her tracks before she continued her stride, her jaw clenched in irritation.
“Birdie, how the fuck did women get my number when I make a pointed effort never to hand the damn thing out? You have my phone.” Stepping into the car, her small entourage following behind her.
“Something about ‘Iron Man Enterprises’” Birdie tapped furiously on the tablet in her hands.
Of course, this was Tony fucking Stark’s doing. The impotent weasel.
Loki snorted a laugh. “Looks like someone already knows you’ve made it to the big leagues.”
Agatha pinched the bridge of her nose, quickly concocting her rebuttal. “Bird, send two dozen long-stemmed roses, a bottle of wine, and the highest-rated vibrator you can find to Pepper. Sign it, ‘something to keep you satisfied, all my love, Aggie’.” She rolled her shoulders back. “That should take care of that. Moving on, I need the agenda for the board meetings ready by the time we take off.” Crossing her legs at the knees, she turned to the new PR rep who’d silently observed the scene in the center, a woman she had worked with for years. “How bad is it?”
“The team hates you, Ags. You didn’t do yourself any favors going in there like that. This conference and subsequent interview are going to have to be spectacular.” Jennifer warned her.
Good thing she was better than spectacular ever dreamt of being.
Turning back to Birdie as the car approached the private tarmac at Bush Intercontinental to board the jet, she added, “Did you pack the black satin strapless top with the matching pants?”
The woman nodded as she completed Agatha’s requests.
“Excellent. It’s exactly what we need for this conference to succeed.” Agatha stated as the car came to a stop.
“You’re basing tonight’s success on your outfit?” Jen asked incredulously.
“This is Agatha, darling. She’s relying on her charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. The outfit is just part of it, you should be aware of that, Jen.” Loki grinned.
Agatha glared at her friend as she reached for the door handle. “You sonofabitch. You started the new season of Drag Race without me, didn’t you?”
“My husband wanted to watch it, and I couldn’t very well say no.” He explained. Traitor that he was.
The group exited the car and boarded the private plane. Agatha all but fell into a seat and huffed. “Loki’s obvious betrayal aside, he’s right. I can’t just walk up to the podium in a suit, but I also can’t wear a dress or a skirt. Not for this,” Agatha accepted a glass of champagne from the stewardess. “I need something in between. Something confident, hot. That’s this outfit.” She took another drink from her Stanley and lifted her brow at Jen in challenge.
“Oh, I know.” The publicist admitted, her seatbelt clicking into place. “I’m just surprised that you’re finally following my advice on matters like this. You normally take a more unhinged approach.”
Loki, Birdie, and Scott all snickered.
“Fuck you, Jenny Kale.” Agatha groused.
“I’d rather not. Who knows where your mouth has been?”
Bitch. Agatha should dock her pay for that. She wouldn’t, but thinking about it was nice. “I’ve never had a single complaint and always a clean bill of health, thank you.” She shot back. “When was the last time you even had a date?”
“Hard to find the time when I’m constantly saving your ass.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Birdie gestured toward Agatha’s laptop, now fully set up, headphones placed to the side. “But you have your board meeting in five.”
“Thank you, Bird.” She moved seats, smoothing her suit and placing the headphones over her ears, while Birdie did the same at a computer of her own, taking notes and scheduling upcoming meetings and events.
“Alright, knuckleheads, keep it down,” Agatha instructed, correcting her posture and returning to her CEO and Oil Baron persona.
“Good afternoon, y’all.” She smiled into the camera once all members had joined, immediately muting everyone when questions were fired at her, Lilia, and Pietro. Lilia was one of the non-employee board members, and Pietro Maximoff, Wanda’s twin brother, was the Chief Operations Officer of Harkness Oil.
“Settle down first and let me explain. I know this is all short notice. As you know, I have been an assistant hockey coach for nearly a decade now. Lilia bought the Houston Comets from Stan, which is why you all know about it.” She paused and unmuted Old Stan so he could greet everyone. As a very successful businessman with a formidable knowledge of the stock market, he had been an asset to the board. “I will be announced as the head coach this evening. Pietro will continue to run the day-to-day operations, and I will remain behind the scenes. Nothing will be changing. Any questions?”
There were many questions—too goddamned many, in fact.
Concerns about team loyalties, stocks falling due to her being in a male-dominated field, and what would happen if the team lost?
She found them all to be pointless and unwarranted. She wanted to bash her head into the plane’s window. A concussion could at least be considered time well spent. Agatha rolled her shoulders back.
“I would like to remind y’all that I’ve been in coaching positions for a decade now. We are the world's leading oil company. This publicity will help us in the long run, especially when paired with our ethical policies and initiatives. We are the only ethical oil and gas company, and I am one of the very few ethical billionaires.”
Several people cleared their throats or tried to hide their laughter.
“With my business practices, at least.” She smirked, turning the meeting over to Lilia.
“Moving on to other business, we have a few events on the horizon and need to ensure that company and team events do not coincide with each other…”
Finally wrapping up the meeting, Agatha took a long drink from her Stanley, mentally preparing for her call with the NHL commissioner, Gary Bettman.
Alright, you can do this. You’re unstoppable. An inner pep talk never hurt anyone.
“Everyone is in on this one, but listening only. I am doing the talking.” The glare she aimed at everyone was meant to melt diamonds.
“Yes, sir.” Loki saluted.
Connecting to the second video call with a dazzling smile plastered on her face, Agatha was ready to get down to business.
“Coach Harkness! I’m excited for your conference today!” The commissioner answered from his office.
“Afternoon, Commissioner! We’re looking forward to the announcement. I just hope the fans are receptive.” Agatha had always liked Gary. He had genuinely supported her and even called her on Thursday afternoon, though it wasn’t official. He just knew she’d take it. She really needed to work on her unpredictability. She couldn’t have people thinking she was anything other than a menace.
“I’ve already had calls from some of your players; you’re already making changes.” His brows lifted—a hint of a smile on his lips.
“No use wasting anyone’s time.” She shrugged.
“I agree. I assume you’re calling about Vidal.”
“Could be.” She looked at her nails, acting disinterested. She’d known Bettman since the nineties, and they knew how to read each other. He was a strategist, a fantastic businessman, and knew how to hype up the league. Vidal was past draft age, so for him to allow her to enter it, there had to be a reason, and Agatha wanted to know what it was.
“I know what you’re wondering, Agatha. What’s your theory?” Leaning back in his chair, he looked into the camera, genuinely interested in what her thoughts were.
“Hockey has been gaining popularity steadily, but with the WNBA and more women watching football, you want to tap into that market, too. It’s smart. There’s the PWHL, but it just started, and it is the first fully pro women’s hockey league. They only have six teams. More women as coaches, owners, and women playing with the men? That immediately expands your market.” She paused, thinking back to the press conference of Rio’s she had watched. “Then you get idiots like Tony Stark taunting women to join the league? You have to offer a way in other than free agency. There was Manon Rhéaume in the nineties, but she only played pre-season and wasn’t drafted.”
“So far, so good. What else?”
“She’s an Olympian, which adds even more prestige to the league and the American players. She’s coming off the first PWHL championship win, literally, three days ago. While she’s not a teenager, she’s shown that she’s capable and can keep up with the boys and the handful that could be considered men. Inviting her to the combine gives her even more coverage and puts her all over the sports networks. It’s a smart move. You know she’ll get drafted. Especially now, when there’s a team owned and coached by a woman. More history you get to make.”
“Exactly. It’s not only good business and press, but history-making, and I make a stand.” He smiled at himself.
“I want access to her, Gary. If I want a longer interview, if I want to see her on the ice, meet her family. I expect access. There’s another kid, I want the same for him.” Her face was set, she was serious, and he knew it.
“Agatha, this is the combine. I can’t give you special treatment, and on-ice activities are strictly forbidden.”
Forbidden? No, that was a shit answer. Nothing was ever forbidden if one played their cards right. They’d say tomato, and she’d say ‘Oh, look, that apple is red and about the same size.’
“Okay, I’ll act as though I’m not doing it. Better?” Agatha asked, sweetly.
He grumbled something about her doing what she wanted as they disconnected.
Her signature smirk appeared as she closed the computer. Tomato, apple—as long as they were both red, it didn’t fucking matter, not for her.
“Prepare for a productive trip, crew. We are approaching Buffalo.” Agatha announced, her muscles already tensing as she prepared for the dog and pony show she was about to put on.
⛸️💫👠
Agatha, as always, walked into the building as if she owned it, the rest of her entourage in tow. The woman exuded confidence wherever she was and with whomever she was, the LECOM Harborcenter was no different.
The newly appointed coach perched her sunglasses atop her head and went straight to the front desk of the attached hotel, ignoring those who had been in line. Only suckers waited their turn.
“Agatha Harkness. I have three rooms.” She flashed her pearly whites and handed over her black card.
“Sorry, she has a press conference to get to.” Loki apologized to the couple she cut in front of. When the fuck did Loki become considerate? She thought, blaming Mobius.
The desk clerk blushed, typing in the name. “Of course, Coach Harkness, it’s lovely to see you again. Presidential Suite and two Junior Suites. Let us know if you need anything.”
“Of course, hon. Thank you so much.” She winked.
She turned on the heel of her stiletto and led the way to the elevator, knowing their luggage would be up shortly, if it weren’t already there.
Scott looked at her, amazed. “Just as an assistant, they remember you year to year?”
“I’m a public figure, Lang, yes.” She shrugged, handing out the room keys on their way to the nineteenth floor. “Jen and Birdie, you’re together, boys, you too. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the room marked ‘Presidential’.” The doors slid open, and they stepped onto their floor.
Jen clapped her hands together, keeping her eyes on Agatha. “We have exactly two hours before we need to be downstairs for the press conference. ESPN usually doesn’t do major press events at the combine, but this is different. Everyone, get ready, we have a country to impress.”
“Do you doubt me?” Agatha asked, appalled. Her hand flew to her chest, jaw dropping open.
“Every day of my life since I met you.”
Honestly? That was fair. You’d have to waterboard her before she ever admitted it out loud, though.
⛸️💫👠
Agatha took her position at the podium. Her black satin ensemble was smoothed to perfection, her full lips were painted a brilliant shade of red, and her wild waves were tossed over her shoulder.
She was ready to field questions thrown at her from various reporters. She had rehearsed her answers, quizzed Scott and Loki, who sat on either side of her. Nicky had even called her to wish her good luck.
Lilia, on the other hand, made a point to remind her that their current success was riding on Agatha’s delivery. An ‘I love you’ would’ve sufficed.
No pressure. None what-so-fucking-ever.
Wanda reminded her to breathe, reminded her how far she had come. Agatha was grateful for her best friend, the woman who kept her grounded and stuck by her through everything.
She could do this. She was Agatha Harkness; she could do anything.
At eight P.M. Eastern Time, it began. Emily Kaplan, a lead NHL correspondent, stood in front of the stage and began.
“As we reported days ago, the Houston Comets were recently sold to businesswoman and billionaire Lilia Calderu. Tonight, we are here at a press conference with the new head coach of the team, Agatha Harkness.” Emily positioned herself to look at both the camera and the new coach.
“Coach Harkness, it is so refreshing to see a woman as a head coach. I’ve followed your assistant coaching career, and you’ve been phenomenal. What does this mean to you?”
Agatha was thankful that Emily was leading the first few questions. It gave her a leg up. “It means so much, Emily. Coaching is something I’ve wanted since I retired from skating. Hockey was my first love and passion. Finally being able to coach my own team and show girls and women everywhere that we can coach pro sports is amazing. I get to do what I love, in a league I love, and best of all, I get to do it in the city I love and call home.”
“That’s definitely special. Coaches Lauffeyson and Lang, how do you feel, having Agatha as your head coach?”
Loki leaned forward toward the mic with a smirk, “I’ve known Coach Harkness since my Olympic days. I’ve played for her, and she’s an amazing coach who helped lead us to a cup. I have full confidence that she’s the right choice.”
Scott nodded. “I agree. We’ve been on the same coaching staff before, and she has the mind of a head coach. She sees plays before they happen, knows where players work best, what they need.”
Emily smiled. “Coach Harkness, you’ve had many successes as an assistant coach, and many of my colleagues and I are shocked you haven’t had offers until now. We have our theories, do you want to give your thoughts on that?”
Agatha looked down and pursed her lips to the side for a moment, carefully choosing her words. “I’ll just say that some people are of the belief that I would be a distraction, or too emotional. In a sport that has a time-out box for when men throw tantrums akin to that of a toddler.”
A few of the reporters chuckled at that, and even Emily let out a small laugh.
“At this time, I will open the floor for other questions.”
“Lilia Calderu is your aunt,” Started a reporter from Sports Illustrated. “Did she essentially buy the team for you?”
Whelp, that took .02 seconds. Vultures, every last one of them. Well, maybe not Emily.
“A man would ask that.” Agatha sneered, the vein in her forehead pulsing. “But yes. As much as I look down on nepotism, this is a male-dominated field, and men aren’t exactly going to start letting women in based on merit. It’s a miracle I’ve been an assistant for three different teams. However, I don’t think it will matter how I got the job once we start winning.”
“Why not the PWHL? It’s a league designed for women.” A man from Fox Sports asked next.
“It would be Fox.” Agatha grimaced, tilting her head to the side. “Yes, and the PWHL is great so far. However, this was the first year; it’s still building. I’m familiar with the NHL and its inner workings. Why should I have to change leagues because of my gender? This isn’t the 1950s. I’m more than qualified for this position despite my background in figure skating, and my track record proves it.”
The questions continued for the three of them until Emily called time at ten.
Agatha was exhausted and ready to get a drink with the woman from Buzzfeed she’d been eyeing all night.
Putting a pretty woman through a mattress always made her feel better.
⛸️💫👠
Friday, May 31st, 2024
St. Paul, Minnesota
Rio Vidal turned the TV off after the press conference and tossed the remote onto her bed in her mother’s house. Since finding out that the Houston Comets had a new owner and coach, she had been trying to learn everything she could about them. She knew the Comets had the first pick, so there had already been a good chance she would be drafted by them before. With Harkness as coach? It was almost a guarantee.
Or at least she thought it was. Houston needed a center, and that’s what she was. She had an amazing career and was a three-time Olympian. It was hard to make hockey her career as a woman, but she did her best.
The past month, however, had been a whirlwind of activity. It was the playoffs, during the final series, when Tony Stark, being the infamous prick that he was, made his now-famous remark.
“Coach Stark, what do you think about the PWHL being in Boston? Do you think the Bruins and PWHL Boston would ever collaborate for a charity game or any events?” A brave reporter asked the known misogynist.
He scoffed and gave a mocking smile. “It’s cute, what they’re doing, but this is a man’s sport, sweetheart. The women can’t keep up with the real champions of the game, even if it was a charity event, and we went easy on them.”
Rio took that personally, and in the next press conference she was in, she called him out by saying, “Challenge accepted, Mr. Stark. Any man who wants to try and play with us is welcome.” It was as much of a polite ‘fuck you’ as it was a gauntlet.
As expected, there weren’t any takers. What there was, on the day of her final game, was a call from the commissioner of the NHL asking her to attend the combine and join the draft. She could announce it at the press conference after the game, win or lose.
They won.
Now, Rio looked around her room at half-packed boxes and suitcases as she finished packing for her flight on Sunday. It had taken a lot to convince her Mami to stay home, but she had finally done it. Her best friend, Alice, was the same way. No, she was doing the combine on her own.
From what she had read about Agatha Harkness, it was probably for the best. It would allow Rio to focus on interviews, workout sessions, training, and being her best mentally. She knew that Agatha demanded the absolute best from her players, no matter what. If she were to get a spot on that team, she had to be better than amazing; she had to be flawless.
From the research she had done and the contacts she had made, Agatha cared a lot about character, personality, and family. Not just what her players did on the ice, but how they behaved off the ice. It was rumored that she had left a team because they did not hold their players to higher standards. A player had been caught being extremely homophobic on multiple occasions, and because he was one of the stars of the team, he was able to stay.
Agatha left mid-season.
Or that was the story as to why she had left that particular team. Either way, Rio had gone through everything she could find of herself online to make sure she had never said or done anything that any team would frown upon. She was already a woman and gay. That was two strikes against her. She didn’t need anything else.
The ringing of her phone stopped her from pacing, which she hadn’t noticed she was doing. Crossing the room to her bed, where the device lay, she answered, knowing it was Alice.
“What’d you think?” Her friend asked immediately.
Rio sighed, flopping onto her back across the bed. “It’s my best chance of being drafted and playing. Any other team and it’s going to be for show, I’ll play a pre-season game at goalie, and that’s it. Like that woman in the 90s.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Your stats are better than half of the active players.” Alice scoffed.
“Yes, but the other teams are led by men who wouldn’t dare hurt the feelings of the other men. Agatha Harkness is one of the very best, and it took her aunt buying a team for her to make head coach. Stats don’t mean shit for women.” Her eyes followed the blades of the ceiling fan.
“You have a point.” Alice conceded. “At least if it is the Comets who draft you, they do have some great players. Thor basically takes up the entire net.”
Rio groaned, “He’s only on the team because his half-brother is one of the assistant coaches. Remember when he almost killed a guy in a bar fight?”
“Eh, he had a bad night.” Alice defended. “They still have some solid players, and Agatha has the money and business knowledge to really extend that salary cap.”
“I have to make it on the team first,” She chewed on her thumbnails. It was a terrible habit that her Mamí tried to break her of to this day. The problem was that the childhood threats about it making her gap wider had never come true. There had also never been any malice behind it. Her gap was part of her charm.
“Stop chewing on your nails.” Alice scolded as if she were there. “You know, Agatha is one of the sexiest women in the world. Hell, she might actually be the sexiest woman in the world. She’s also a lesbian…”
“She’s also a known playboy and would be my coach. Stop reading so much filth. Are you staying with the PWHL?” Rio asked, actively changing the subject. She knew Agatha was hot; she had eyes and an active imagination.
Rio Vidal would not be touching that with a thousand-foot pole.
“Deflection. I’ll accept. I don’t know. I’ve been submitting applications to teams and private practices. Ask Agatha if they need a physical therapist and trainer, will you?”
Sure, because getting drafted and immediately asking your brand-new coach for a favor was commonplace. Rio rolled her eyes.
“I’ll get right on that. I’m going to try to get some sleep. Are you coming over to help me pack tomorrow?”
“Of course. Night, Ri, love you.”
Rio yawned, exhaustion finally catching up with her. “I love you, too.”
⛸️💫👠
Sunday, June 2nd, 2024
Buffalo, New York
Agatha’s Presidential Suite looked more like a war room than a hotel room if you asked her, though no one did. She didn’t let that stop her from pointing it out anyway. They had set up whiteboards for the week to track potential draft picks and were reviewing their current roster.
The three coaches, along with Jen and Birdie, had spent all weekend going over the team, watching videos, comparing numbers and stats from the previous years, and making their predictions for who would be returning.
They also had the job of staffing for other positions on the team. While most of the trainers, team doctors, other coaches, and various other staff throughout the Comets organization would be staying, there were a few positions they could fill, and Agatha knew who she wanted.
Leaning forward with her hands on the long table in the main room of her suite, she looked at the others seated in various positions. “I know for sure that I want Natasha Maximoff as a skate coach and trainer; she can do both.” Loki opened his mouth to make a smart-ass comment she didn’t have time to entertain. “Not like that, Loki, and you know it.” Her eyes did a hard roll to the left. “Birdie, give her a call and ask her what her number is. Then, tell her I said fuck off, lovingly, and to give me a real number.” She turned to her computer and typed in a name, projecting it on the large TV screen hanging on the wall. “Hope Van Dyne, nutritionist and dietician. I want to put her in charge of that department. I met with her this morning, and she accepted.”
Scott began to fidget with his Comet's water bottle at the mere mention of Hope. She clocked it immediately.
“She said to tell you hello and that she looks forward to working with you again.” Agatha made an irritated sound. “Why, I have no idea.” She flung her hands out dramatically. “Moving on to the position of General Manager. Obviously, we need one. I can’t do everything, and while Lilia is learning, we need someone who knows what they’re doing.”
“Oh, come on, Ags, we didn’t have one before. Old Stan did both, and look how well that went,” Loki grinned.
Agatha narrowed her eyes at her friend.
“Which is exactly why Lilia and I reached out to Maria Rambeau, who knows what she’s doing in this regard. She’s managed multiple teams before and can run ours. However, she can’t begin until July, so that leaves the draft up to us.”
“Like you weren’t going to make sure you controlled that anyway,” Jen interjected. “Just like you’ll make sure to control everything that happens with the team.”
“Good thing you’re around to spin that.” Agatha flashed a sarcastic smile, narrowly avoiding flipping her off for good measure.
She clapped her hands together in front of her. “Now, onto the game plan for the week. Our eyes are on two prospects: Peter Parker and Rio Vidal. I want everything on them. We’ll meet with the other prospects, see if we find anyone interesting, but these are our targets. Lilia wants Rio, and drafting her as the number-one pick would be historic. We’ve seen the tapes, her stats, the headlines; she’s amazing.” She turned her attention to Jen, “I want to see it up close. I plan to take them both to dinner separately. If they have family with them, then their family too. I want to know everything about them, down to their blood types. Social media histories, if they so much as said a slur on the playground in the third grade. I want anything that could bite us in the ass.”
Jen raised an eyebrow, “That is part of my job, Agatha.”
“tHaT iS pArt oF mY jOb, AgAtHa” She mocked, scrunching up her face. “Then do it. Yesterday.”
Jen sighed heavily through her nose and fixed her with a glare. “I am. It takes more than a couple of hours to do digging this damn extensive.”
Scott drummed his fingers on the table, “This Peter kid, he looks like a first round pick, what’s your plan?”
Damn, if she kept gold stars around, she would give him one for asking a valid question. Maybe Nicky had some.
“A trade depends on who gets the spot. Based on what I know about the kid so far, he’ll go low, so it’ll depend on what happens come draft day, but I have a feeling I’ll be making a hefty deal.”
Birdie returned from the other room and handed Agatha her tablet. The coach let out a laugh, then nodded, picked up a pen, wrote another figure on a post-it, and handed it to her assistant. “Have it drafted up and sent over to her, please. Will you also let Wanda know to order dinner on my account?”
Birdie’s mouth curled upward. “She already did.”
“Of course she did. Will you also go ahead and put Rio Vidal and Peter Parker on my interview docket? I’d like to be the first to interview both, if possible.”
The blonde nodded, tapping the tablet's screen. “Do you want me to make dinner reservations?”
“Not yet, we’ll hold off for now, but we’ll do the usual restaurants,” Agatha confirmed.
“You have this down to a science almost,” Scott exclaimed, almost in awe.
“I do.” She finally took a seat at the table, crossing her legs at the knee and pulling up a visual roster on the screen. “We currently have a full fifty players, which honestly, we don’t need, and some aren’t worth it. We let some of these bad contracts expire. I’ll let Rambeau handle more of that. What I can control is playing time. We’ll follow their contracts, but I won't accept substandard play. Ever.”
Loki leaned back, steepling his fingers under his chin. “If Rio exceeds our expectations, which we know she will, what’s the offer?”
“Glad you asked, fellow chaos demon.” She clicked on a different tab, and the numbers she, Lilia, and the front office had come up with over the weekend displayed on the screen.
Jen’s eyes lit up, already spinning a story around the unusually large number. Scott let out a low whistle.
Loki stared at it for a moment, letting it sink in. “It’s smart. It gets people talking, not too flashy or reckless, but definitely unheard of for a draft pick who has never played in the NHL.”
That was exactly the point.
“It is, but she’s an Olympian. She’s proven herself in other arenas, and now she has to do it here. It’s for three years, and gives her time to earn her position. If we’re going to build a franchise around her, then we offer a longer, much heavier contract.” Agatha defended.
“Good answer.” Loki agreed with a nod. “When does your interview air?”
Glancing at her watch, she quickly calculated how much longer they had until she turned the TV on so she could scrutinize herself. “An hour.”
“I’ll order room service, we’ll disperse afterward so you can do what you do,” Birdie stated non-judgmentally, “After you call Nicky, of course. Then we will meet here in the morning at six.”
“Go, team!” Scott said enthusiastically, leaning back. “Ags, can I go to the bar with you? Maybe you can show me how you do it?”
“Absolutely not, Lang.”
Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t actually have gold stars to hand out. That stupid ass question definitely negated Scott’s good one. Then again, ripping it away could’ve served as a lesson learned.
⛸️💫👠
Sunday, June 2, 2024
Buffalo, New York
Rio’s eyes were glued to the television screen in her hotel room as she watched the interview with Agatha, jotting down notes. She had already been informed of her interview with the Comets' coach for mid-morning the next day and was trying to prepare.
Agatha sat in an overstuffed chair across from Emily Kaplan, the correspondent from Friday’s press conference. As always, the oil magnate was flawless, her waist-length curls were tamed to fall softly around her shoulders, and her dress was white, sleeveless, and ended just above her knee. It was smart, Rio noted. It made her look like the picture of authority whilst making her seem approachable. What really held the player’s attention, though, was the way the lights caught her eyes. It made them appear a shade of blue Rio had only ever seen along the shores of Puerto Rico. They were truly astonishing. She looked forward to seeing them up close.
“Pay attention, Vidal,” she whispered, shaking herself out of her momentary stupor with her pen in hand. She forced her eyes closed and listened to the interview.
“Agatha, while many are familiar with your story, there are many hockey fans who have seen you with other teams, but aren’t necessarily familiar with how you broke into the sport. The network has been playing many of your career highlights from your days as a figure skater. Can you explain how you made that leap, so to speak?” Emily leaned forward with her chin on her fist.
Agatha’s shoulders rolled back, and Rio’s pen began to fly across the page, making note of her perfect posture. “Of course, Emily. My mother, may she rest in peace, started me in skating the moment I learned how to walk. In Texas, no less. The rink I practiced at in Houston was also used for hockey, and around the age of four, I became more interested in knocking a puck around than perfecting my sit spin.” She paused while Emily let out a small laugh.
“My coaches took notice, talked to the hockey coaches, and my incentive for improving in figure skating became hockey lessons. It was, of course, hidden from my mother.” She smiled wryly at the woman across from her, as if the cameras didn’t exist.
Rio could practically feel the Coach’s charm radiating through the television screen.
“You excelled in two sports at once, then?” Emily quirked a brow, her interest piqued.
Agatha nodded, “I did. During the Olympics, I befriended the hockey players and would often practice with them when I could. It became a part of who I am. As much as I love figure skating, and I do, I love hockey more.” She explained, giving Emily a shrug. “I know I have fans from my skating days that are always shocked to hear that, but if I had been allowed to play and pursue it, I would have.”
“You’ve told me that story before, but I love how you never gave up on your passion.”
Rio scoffed at the way Emily was practically swooning over Agatha. Talk about a lack of professionalism.
“Well, Emily, when I want something, I don’t stop until I get it.” Her voice was slightly lower, almost a challenge to everyone listening. Agatha crossed her legs, the hem of her dress riding a little higher up her thigh. The reporter had definitely noticed, as had Rio, though she at least pretended not to. “In 2015, a friend of mine reached out, and I began my assistant coaching career. Unfortunately, it abruptly ended this past season over irreconcilable differences with my third winning team. Still, I am now the head coach of my home team, which allows me to stay near my family.”
“Let’s discuss that.” Emily shifted in her seat. “Now, as you said Friday night, this all happened very suddenly, correct?”
“Yes, Lilia Calderu offered me the position this past Wednesday.” Agatha’s face had returned to the professional, all-business look she so often wore in interviews. Her teasing smirks were long gone. Rio made another hastily scribbled note. The tycoon was serious about this. She knew exactly how weighted the line of questioning had become.
“You really didn’t know she was buying the team? It’s a months-long process, isn't it?” The anchor's voice was filled with disbelief.
“No one knew,” She answered calmly, her voice sure and certain. It was a tone that left no room for doubt. “Not even the players. I was absolutely shocked, but I am grateful for the opportunity to build the team and give Houston a hockey team they can be proud of.”
“Pivoting just a bit, you’re not just a coach, but a very successful and wealthy oil tycoon.” It was a statement, not a question.
Agatha tilted her head to the side, a playful gleam returning to her dazzling blue eyes. “I wouldn’t say tycoon, but yes. My family has been a mainstay in the state and in the oil and gas business since the industry was discovered. As I’ve stated before, I have an amazing leadership team that runs the corporation smoothly while I'm away, and I’m able to handle business as needed.”
There was an almost imperceptible blip in the footage, and all at once the on-screen atmosphere had shifted. Rio bit her lip. Whatever had occurred had clearly been cut. Emily’s face was now slightly flushed, and Rio could only describe the look Agatha was giving her as stern.
The reporter cleared her throat, her hands trembling slightly as she peered down at her notes. “As the first woman to become a head coach, on a team owned by a woman, would you say Rio Vidal is your main prospect for the combine?”
Rio leaned forward, scanning Agatha’s face for any sign that the answer was yes. The woman didn’t move a muscle. Fuck, her poker face was excellent.
“I have my eye on several recruits, Emily. I’m looking for the best. I’m not going to draft someone solely because they’re a woman; this isn’t my first rodeo, nor is it my last.” Agatha deadpanned with an arch of her brow. “I’ll be analyzing performance, interview questions, and mental and psychological evaluations, as all the teams here do. Just better.”
Rio turned the TV off, a mirror of two nights before, and placed the remote on the nightstand. She wasn’t sure what to think of Agatha. If she could fluster a professional, then Rio didn’t stand a chance during her interview. What if she were invited to dinner? Several teams had the habit of doing that for top prospects. She might not have any intentions of getting involved with her coach, but Agatha was an attractive, mean, charismatic femme, twenty years her senior, and Rio was only human. Unfortunately.
Calm down, Vidal. The other coaches will be there. She thought to herself.
It was times like these when she needed her mom, but she knew Mami was working the night shift at the hospital. It didn’t make sense to bother her.
Instead, she forced herself to shower and try to sleep before her week of being judged by a shit ton of arrogant men and one brilliant woman began.
She had a feeling that there wasn’t enough sleep in the world to prepare her for this.