Chapter 73

Chapter 73
# CHAPTER 13: TEAM PLAY

"Mama on TV!" Charlotte squealed, pointing at the television where Emma's confrontation with the NHL board was playing on repeat across sports networks.

"Yes, baby, Mama's on TV," Emma confirmed, trying to sound casual while internally cringing at seeing herself argue with powerful men in front of millions of viewers.

"You look fierce," Katie observed from the kitchen, where she was making lunch for the kids. "Like a hockey player defending her territory."

"I felt fierce," Emma admitted. "Terrified, but fierce."

Three weeks had passed since the board meeting, and the response had been overwhelmingly positive. Fan support was unprecedented, with social media campaigns demanding more transparency in hockey governance. Sponsors were actually increasing their commitments to Emma's league, drawn by the authenticity of her approach.

"The Toronto move is officially happening next month," Alek announced, entering with a stack of relocation documents. "I just signed the final paperwork."

"All of it?" Emma asked.

"House, offices, school registration for Charlotte, everything." Alek looked around their New York apartment, now mostly empty except for essential furniture. "Ready or not, we're doing this."

Emma felt a familiar flutter of excitement mixed with terror. "Katie, please tell me you've made a decision about Toronto."

Katie grinned. "Tim accepted the transfer yesterday. We're moving three weeks after you do."

"Really?" Emma jumped up to hug her friend. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure. Someone needs to keep you two from taking over all of Canada."

"Just the hockey parts," Alek clarified with a smile.

Emma's phone buzzed with a text from the Toronto sports network: "First show tapes Monday. Studio ready for your arrival."

"No backing out now," she murmured.

"Would you want to back out?" Alek asked.

Emma considered the question seriously. A month ago, the idea of hosting a weekly television show while relocating her family and rebuilding her business would have seemed impossible. Now it felt like the natural next step.

"No," she said firmly. "I'm ready for this."

"Even if it means living in a fishbowl? Every decision we make being documented?"

"Especially because of that." Emma pulled up fan emails on her phone. "Look at this. A fifteen-year-old girl from Calgary says watching our board meeting made her want to study sports management. A mom in Montreal says we're showing her daughters that women can be leaders and partners at the same time."

"And this one," Katie added, reading over Emma's shoulder, "from a male coach who says he's started including his wife in more team decisions because of your example."

Alek smiled. "So we're accidentally changing hockey culture?"

"Maybe not so accidentally," Emma replied. "What if that was always the point? What if Franklin knew that to really change things, someone would have to be willing to do it publicly?"

The mention of Franklin made them all pause. Emma still felt his presence in major decisions, as if his voice was part of her internal guidance system.

"He would have loved this chaos," she said softly.

"He would have loved watching you fight for what matters," Alek corrected.

That afternoon, Emma had her final sponsor meeting in New York. The conference room was packed with representatives from companies that had initially been skeptical of her Toronto expansion.

"Six months ago, you had three teams and a dream," the lead sponsor representative said. "Today you have twelve teams, a television deal, and international interest. That's not just success - that's revolution."

"It's just the beginning," Emma replied. "Toronto opens up the entire Canadian market. Within two years, we'll have twenty-four teams across North America."

"And the transparency model? How do you plan to maintain that as you grow?"

Emma pulled up her presentation, the same principles she'd outlined to the NHL board but applied to her own organization.

"Every financial decision documented. Every conflict of interest disclosed. Regular fan surveys about league direction. Board meetings streamed live." She clicked to the next slide. "If we're asking hockey to modernize, we need to model what that looks like."

"That's... unprecedented," one sponsor noted.

"So was women's professional hockey five years ago," Emma countered. "Unprecedented doesn't mean wrong."

The meeting ended with renewed commitments from all sponsors and two new partnerships that would fund the Toronto launch.

"You were brilliant," Lisa told Emma as they packed up. "Confident without being arrogant, visionary without being unrealistic."

"I felt like I was channeling Franklin," Emma admitted.

"You were channeling yourself. The Emma who learned from Franklin but became her own leader."

That evening, as they sat in their nearly empty apartment eating takeout on the floor, Emma felt a sense of completion. Not ending, but evolution.

"One month from tonight, we'll be eating dinner in Toronto," she said.

"Probably still on the floor, surrounded by boxes," Alek pointed out.

"But together."

"Definitely together."

Charlotte, who had been unusually quiet during dinner, suddenly looked up from her chicken nuggets.

"Mama? Dada? Are we gonna be famous in Toronto?"

Emma and Alek exchanged glances. They'd tried to shield the children from the media attention, but Charlotte was observant enough to notice the cameras and interviews.

"Maybe a little bit, sweetheart," Emma said carefully. "Is that okay with you?"

Charlotte considered this with typical two-year-old seriousness. "Will people be nice?"

"Most people will be very nice," Alek assured her. "And if anyone isn't nice, Mama and Daddy will handle it."

"Okay," Charlotte decided. "But I don't want to be on TV all the time."

"You won't be on TV unless you want to be," Emma promised.

"Good. TV is boring."

"Spoken like a true Mitchell," Alek laughed.

Later, after the children were asleep, Emma and Alek sat on their bedroom floor, surrounded by the last of their packing.

"Nervous?" Alek asked.

"Excited," Emma corrected. "For the first time in months, I feel like we're moving toward something instead of running from something."

"Even with all the pressure? The cameras, the scrutiny, the constant need to prove ourselves?"

"Especially because of that." Emma leaned against his shoulder. "Alek, we're not just building careers anymore. We're showing people what's possible when you refuse to choose between love and ambition."

"No pressure there," he joked.

"The best kind of pressure. The kind that makes you better."

Emma's phone buzzed with a message from Maria Santos, the board member who had supported them: "Transparency proposal passed preliminary vote 8-4. Official implementation begins next month. Thank you for pushing us forward."

"Eight to four," Emma told Alek. "We convinced them."

"You convinced them. Your passion, your principles, your refusal to back down."

"Our refusal," Emma corrected. "We did this together."

"Together," Alek agreed, pulling her closer.

Outside their window, New York sparkled with its usual energy, preparing to say goodbye to one small family that had learned the difference between having it all and having what mattered.

Tomorrow would bring more packing, more decisions, more steps toward their uncertain but exciting future.

But tonight, surrounded by boxes and dreams, Emma felt perfectly content.

They'd found their way back to each other, and everything else was just details.

Details they would handle together, in full view of the world, proving that the best partnerships weren't perfect - they were honest.

And honesty, as it turned out, was revolutionary.