Chapter 70
# CHAPTER 10: SHIFT CHANGE
Emma's phone buzzed at 6 AM with a text from Lisa: "Emergency sponsor meeting today at 2 PM. They're making final decisions about Toronto support."
Emma groaned, reaching for her coffee before remembering she was trying to cut back on caffeine while her body healed from the miscarriage. Herbal tea just wasn't the same.
"Bad news?" Alek asked, appearing in the kitchen already dressed for an early NHL meeting.
"Sponsor drama. They want a final answer about whether they'll support the Toronto expansion."
"What's your pitch?"
Emma pulled up the presentation she'd been working on for weeks. "That Toronto isn't abandoning New York - it's creating a sister league that strengthens both markets."
"Sounds convincing to me."
"Let's hope they agree." Emma closed her laptop. "What time will you be home?"
"That's the other thing. The board wants to discuss our 'professional entanglements' today."
Emma's stomach tightened. "Our what?"
"Apparently some owners are concerned about potential conflicts of interest if you're hosting a hockey show while I'm Commissioner."
"Even though we'd be promoting the sport, not competing with them?"
"Logic isn't their strong suit." Alek kissed her forehead. "Don't worry. I've got this."
"We've got this," Emma corrected. "Remember? Partners."
"Partners," Alek agreed, but she could see the worry in his eyes.
After he left, Emma found herself staring at the growing collection of moving boxes, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer logistics of relocating their lives.
"Mama packing?" Charlotte asked, dragging her stuffed elephant behind her.
"Mama's thinking about packing," Emma replied. "Want to help?"
"Yes!"
For the next hour, Emma and Charlotte created organized chaos in the living room. Charlotte's version of "helping" involved putting random objects in every box, while Frankie contributed by immediately unpacking whatever his sister had just packed.
"This is never going to work," Emma muttered, finding one of Alek's business shirts wadded up with Charlotte's finger paints.
"What's not going to work?" Katie asked, arriving with coffee and what looked like reinforcements.
"Moving. With children. While building a career. While keeping a marriage together." Emma gestured helplessly at the destruction around her. "Take your pick."
Katie surveyed the scene. "You know what you need?"
"A clone?"
"Professional movers. And a nanny for moving day. And maybe some wine."
"It's 10 AM."
"I wasn't specifying when to drink the wine."
Emma laughed despite her stress. "Katie, I have to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest."
"Okay."
"Are you planning to move to Toronto with us?"
Katie was quiet for a moment, helping Frankie stack blocks while she thought.
"I want to," she said finally. "But Tim's company is based here, and moving would mean starting over completely."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because I feel like I'm abandoning you right when you need help most."
Emma sat on the floor next to Katie, watching their children play together. "Katie, you've already done more for our family than anyone could ask. We'll figure out Toronto."
"But who's going to help with the kids? Who's going to be there when you need to vent about sponsor meetings?"
"We'll find people. Build a new support system."
Katie's eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to miss you so much."
"We'll visit constantly. And you can always change your mind."
"Tim's actually been offered a transfer opportunity to the Toronto office," Katie admitted. "We've been discussing it."
Emma's heart leaped. "Really?"
"It's not definite. But it's possible."
"Katie, that would be amazing. But don't make the decision based on us. Make it based on what's best for your family."
"What if what's best for my family is staying close to the people who've become our chosen family?"
Emma felt tears threatening. The miscarriage had made her more emotional about everything, especially friendship and family bonds.
"We love you too," she said simply.
"Good. Because if we do move to Toronto, I'm expecting unlimited babysitting in exchange for hauling my family across the country for you."
"Deal."
That afternoon, Emma's sponsor meeting went better than expected. Her presentation convinced two of the three major sponsors to support the Toronto expansion, with the third agreeing to stay neutral rather than actively opposing it.
"It's not everything we wanted," Lisa said afterward, "but it's enough to move forward."
"I'll take it," Emma replied, feeling relieved.
But when she got home, Alek's expression told her his NHL meeting hadn't gone as well.
"How bad?" she asked.
"They want us to sign a formal agreement limiting how we work together professionally."
"What kind of agreement?"
"No joint appearances. No shared business ventures. Basically, they want us to pretend we're not married when it comes to hockey."
Emma stared at him. "That's ridiculous."
"That's what I told them."
"What did they say?"
"That if I can't maintain professional boundaries with my wife, they'll find a Commissioner who can."
Emma sank onto the couch, feeling like they'd taken one step forward and two steps back.
"So what are our options?" she asked.
"Sign the agreement and keep my job while pretending we're not partners. Or refuse to sign and risk losing everything we've worked for."
"There has to be a third option."
"If there is, I haven't found it yet."
They sat in frustrated silence, both thinking about the impossible position they'd been put in.
"You know what I think?" Emma said finally.
"What?"
"I think they're scared."
"Of what?"
"Of us. Of what we represent." Emma turned to face him fully. "Alek, we're the first Commissioner-owner couple in NHL history. We're breaking new ground, and that threatens people who like the old ways."
"So?"
"So maybe instead of trying to accommodate their fear, we prove them wrong."
"How?"
Emma felt an idea forming, risky but potentially brilliant.
"What if we don't just refuse to sign their agreement? What if we propose our own terms?"
"Like what?"
"Full transparency. Open books. Every business decision documented. Every potential conflict of interest disclosed publicly." Emma's excitement was building. "Make it impossible for them to claim we're hiding anything."
Alek considered this. "That's either genius or career suicide."
"Maybe both. But at least it would be on our terms."
"Emma, if this backfires—"
"Then we'll figure out plan B. Together."
Alek studied her face, seeing the determination that had made her a successful business leader.
"You really think this could work?"
"I think hiding our partnership is what created problems in the first place. Maybe radical honesty is the solution."
"It would mean giving up privacy. Everything we do would be scrutinized."
"Everything we do is already being scrutinized. At least this way, we control the narrative."
Alek was quiet for a long moment, weighing their options.
"Okay," he said finally. "Let's do it."
"Really?"
"Really. But Emma, if we're going to take this big a risk, we need to be absolutely sure we're doing it together."
"We are. I promise."
"No more secrets? No more trying to protect each other from difficult decisions?"
"No more secrets," Emma agreed. "From now on, we face everything as a team."
"Even if it means our business is conducted in public?"
"Especially then."
They shook hands again, sealing their commitment to radical transparency.
Outside, New York prepared for evening, unaware that in one apartment, a couple was preparing to either revolutionize professional sports partnerships or destroy their careers in spectacular fashion.
Either way, they were done hiding.
Time to show the world what a real partnership looked like.