The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance Read Online Free PDF

level, yelling all the way. Eloise visibly cringed. The supercilious blowhard was the only thing she didn’t love about her career with The Riot.
    “Uh, that’s my cue,” Cole said, adjusting his hat and taking a step back. “Late for practice. Have a great day, pretty doughnut-lady.”
    “It’s Eloise. Call me El.”
    Cole nodded as he turned toward the arena. “Eloise,” he mouthed silently, then winked. “I think I like pretty doughnut-lady better.”
    An amused smile crossed her face but faded immediately as Murphy blustered up behind her.
    “Can’t you get rid of these losers hanging around out there?” he shouted.
    Eloise swiveled to face the man, his potted face red with anger. Back in the day, he might have been considered passably attractive. Heir to the Murphy’s Finest Irish whiskey empire, he certainly had enough money to dress well and take care of himself, in addition to having the means to buy an NHL franchise. At fifty-something, he still kept a reasonably trim figure, though his short stature likely had him watching calories in order to do so. His steel-gray hair formed a stylish brush cut atop his head.
    “Good morning, Mr. Murphy,” Eloise said in her calmest, polished PR voice.
    Murphy slowed his tirade just long enough to pierce her with his famous annoyed-and-I’m-going-to-pout face.
    “Morning,” he said gruffly. “I’m trying to build a high-class establishment here, and those morons,” he pointed to the growing crowd outside, “don’t know enough to get out of the way. They’re costing me money.”
    Like any high-powered, billionaire businessman, Murphy only cared about the bottom line. Eloise wondered if one shred of empathy ever coursed through his beefy body.
    “I’ll speak to the foreman,” Eloise said. “There should be more barricades and safety measures put in place to keep bystanders out of the danger zone.”
    “Oh, you’re a construction expert now, are you?” he asked. “I really don’t give a shit about their safety, Eloise. I want work to be done on time and within budget. It’s called a cost/benefit analysis. Didn’t they teach you about that basic business concept during your time at the prestigious Carlson School of Management?”
    Eloise smiled patiently. “Yes, they certainly did. And I have family in the construction trades. My dad was a union pipefitter for thirty years, so I learned a few things along the way.”
    “Union!” Murphy scoffed. “Another barrier to progress just like these idiots,” he thumbed toward the crowd again. “If the union had their way, this bar wouldn’t be opening until next year, costing me an extra million. I have kids in college, Eloise. Ivy League colleges. This shit needs to get done and get done on time!”
    Unwilling to enter the polarizing territory of unions after her conversation with Ryder, Eloise changed the subject. “Shall we proceed with the walk-through, Sheehan? We both have a busy day ahead of us. I’m sure once we’re done, both our minds will be set at ease with the progress.”
    “Yeah,” he grunted. “But make sure you clear that street before going back to your desk.”
    “I said I would talk to the foreman,” Eloise answered. “But I can’t deny people their right to free assembly, and they are taxpayers, after all. They have a stake in how their neighborhood is developed.”
    “Fuck free assembly.” Murphy waved his hand. “Make it go away, Eloise, because it’s what I pay you to do. You clean up messes. Let’s start upstairs.”
    The design for the upper level included a massive viewing deck, a circular wall of windows that overlooked the city’s downtown on one side, and a premium view of the ice surface on the other. Seats on that side would sell for thousands, as would the cost for private event rentals. Prices would be completely out of reach for the regular fans like those lining the street right now, and this thought weighed on Eloise. It was her job to put a positive