Caged Gold Hockey #11 Elise Faber CAGED BY ELISE FABER This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation. CAGED Copyright © 2021 Elise Faber Print ISBN-13: 978-1-63749-002-0 Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-63749-001-2 Cover Art by Jena Brignola Contents Gold Cast of Characters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue Epilogue Crashed Newsletter Gold Hockey Series Gold Hockey Also by Elise Faber About the Author Gold Cast of Characters Heroes and Heroines: Brit Plantain (Blocked) — first female goalie in the NHL, loves boy bands Stefan Barie (Blocked) — captain of the Gold Sara Jetty (Backhand) — artist and figure skater Mike Stewart (Backhand) —defenseman for the Gold, romance guru Blane Hart (Boarding) — center for the Gold, number 22 Mandy Shallows (Boarding) — trainer and physical therapist Max Montgomery (Benched) — defensemen for the Gold, giant nerd Angelica Shallows (Benched) — engineer at RoboTech, also a giant nerd Blue Anderson (Breakaway) — top forward in the league and for the Gold Anna Hayes (Breakaway) — Max’s former nanny, no relation to Kevin Hayes Rebecca Stravokraus (Breakout) — Gold publicist, makes killer brownies, known at PR-Rebecca Kevin Hayes (Breakout) — forward for the Gold, no relation to Anna Hayes Rebecca Hallbright (Checked) — nutritionist for the Gold, plethora of delicious vegan recipes, known as Nutrionist-Rebecca Gabe Carter (Checked) — doctor, head trainer for the Gold Calle Stevens (Coasting) — assistant coach for the Gold, former national team member Coop Armstrong (Coasting) — talented forward on the Gold, addicted to historical romance audiobooks Mia Caldwell (Centered) — 5th degree black belt, brings the snark Liam Williamson (Centered) — Gold forward finding his love for the game, charming and pushy in equal measures Charlotte Harris (Charging) — new Gold GM, hates losing and the game Chubby Bunny Logan Walker (Charging) — defensemen for the Gold, skills include: cockiness and being able to buy presents that make Charlotte squirm Dani Eastbrook (Caged) — video coach for the Gold, tech nerd, could fix your computer in a flash, shy Ethan Korhonen (Caged) — forward for the Gold, killer power play skills, known as Big Juicy Brain Devon Scott (Block & Tackle) — former player, current owner Prestige Media group Becca Scott (Block & Tackle) — Devon’s assistant Additional Characters: Fanny — skating coach Bernard — head coach Richie — equipment manager Dan Plantain — Brit’s brother Diane Barie — Stefan’s mom Pierre Barie — Stefan’s dad, owner of the Gold Spence — former goalie, married to Monique, daughter Mirabel Monique — married to Spence, former model Mirabel — daughter of Spence and Monique Mitch — Sara’s boss Allison and Sean — Blane’s parents Pascal — Devon Scott’s security lead Roger Shallows — Mandy’s dad Grant and Megan — Devon’s parents Chapter One Dani Shy. She was painfully shy. Great with tech. Horrible with people. But that was okay because her job was tech. As a video coach for the Gold, her livelihood depended on how well she could interact with the tech surrounding her at any given time—tech that currently consisted of multiple monitors on her office wall, a desktop, a laptop, and a trio of tablets. She actually had a dozen tablets at her disposal, but the rest were currently being used by the coaching staff. The Gold had just finished their third game of the season, and though she wouldn’t say her job got lighter as the season progressed, this time, in particular, was dizzying. There were new players to get up to speed. Changes to the system that needed to be addressed. Specific plays the coaches wanted highlighted. And she was down her assistant—who was out with the stomach flu—and an intern—who’d lied on his resumé, couldn’t actually isolate and/or edit video, and hated everything to do with the game of hockey. Video. Coach. Both of those were important—okay, both were critical to her job. She needed to understand the game, needed to be able to anticipate what the players and coaching staff would need, and she needed to be able to move fast to isolate, tag, and make that content available, both during and after each of the eighty-two regular-season games, not to mention any additional playoff games the team might be lucky enough to participate in. So, an intern with no interest in the sport was useless. And an assistant coach, who was confined at home with the stomach plague, was similarly not helpful for the fingertip tap dance she had to conduct during a normal game. It meant she’d played double-duty for the contest, watching eight feeds at once, layering alternate angles together of different parts of the matchup—zone entries, injuries, penalties, or power plays—in addition to being prepared to advise the bench coaches on whether or not to challenge a particular goal. In a word, by the time she was finishing up her end of the game process—superimposing stats pulled by the NHL onto the various video clips and making them accessible to players and coaches alike—Dani was exhausted. But, crying over spilled milk and all that. She didn’t have time for exhaustion or crying or . . . well, not much except to be staring lovingly into her screens, her fingers caressing the keyboards and tablets . . . and yes, she realized that her referring to staring lovingly and caressing anything tech-related meant that she’d probably been single far too long. Not that single was an uncommon adjective to describe Dani Eastbrooke. It was usually included, right along with quiet, shy, and painfully awkward. “Stop,” she whispered. She was who she was, and she didn’t have time for reminiscing or self-flagellation, not when she had enough work for three people and only one person to do it. A ping came across her cell. Glancing down, she saw it was a request—or technically, three more
