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

spin on this venture, and Sheehan wasn’t making it easy with his elitist bullshit.
    As they made their way around the project, Sheehan continued to complain about the protesters, the “piddly mom-and-pop shops” that dotted the surrounding streets, and the speed of his workforce, or rather, the lack of it. He made rude comments to the carpenters and electricians they passed by and barked at Barbara, his assistant, when she approached him with questions about his schedule. At this rate, Eloise wouldn’t be surprised if some overly offended blue-collar worker popped him in the jaw.
    Eloise made notes and edits to the checklist on her iPad. By the time they’d finished the tour, she’d decided that Sheehan Murphy was not a particularly nice man and represented everything people disliked about big corporations; greedy, uncaring and able to call the shots only by virtue of their deep pockets. She’d never really liked him, but he’d stayed out of her way up to now, so she’d been able to keep her distance and get her job done. Once the restaurant was completed, his focus would return to other projects, and she could breathe a sigh of relief.
    As she’d promised, she sought out Stan Walters before returning to her office, urging him to widen the radius of the safety barriers and put up extra “No Trespassing” signs as soon as possible. Looking at the growing group of demonstrators outside, Eloise decided to go right to the heart of the matter and pushed through the door.
    “Good morning,” she said, mustering her calmest public speaking voice. “I’m Eloise Robertson. I work for the Rochester Riot. For your safety, I ask that all of you move back to the opposite side of the street. The Riot would be devastated if something happened to one of you during this project.”
    “What about the safety of our neighborhood?” one of the onlookers cried.
    “Yeah, what about our businesses?” hollered another.
    The questions fired at her like a machine gun repeating at sixty decibels for minutes until she finally put her pointer finger up to her lips.
    “Move back, please. Thank you for your cooperation,” she said, knowing better than to try and answer questions.
    Media rule numero uno.
    When the majority of people began shuffling across the street, Eloise turned and walked back through the arena. She paused briefly to watch the players performing their drills, trying to pick out Fiorino. With embarrassment, she realized she didn’t even know his jersey number.
    Note to self: study team roster before you get fired. Or die from humiliation in front of the hottest guy you’ve ever seen.
    Kylie looked up from her desk as Eloise returned. “How’d it go?”
    “Might have gone better,” she answered. “Kyles, have you ever regretted working here?”
    Kylie brushed a wisp of pink bangs aside and stared at her. “Gosh, no. I love it here, don’t you? We work in the front office of the most talented and badass team in the NHL. Why would you ask that? Is everything okay?”
    El shrugged her shoulders and tried to chuckle, but it ended up croaking out her throat like a pathetic whine. “I thought the most badass team in the NHL is the Chicago Blackhawks. Anyway, I spoke with Sheehan. The bar is coming along fine, but I’m worried. The locals have valid issues. When it’s completed, the main artery into the neighborhood will be blocked. Customers won’t be able to get to their local shops without a massive detour. Worse, they may stop at Murphy’s Finest and not go any further. It really will change the economy and culture of the area. I’m not sure I like Murphy’s plan, and I’m certain I don’t like him.”
    Kylie put her hands over her ears as if it hurt to hear the information. “He’s a businessman, what do you expect?” She threw Eloise a curious look. “Why do you care about the neighborhood? If the bar is a success, it’ll mean more money in our paychecks. Don’t you want the Riot’s brand to be