Chapter 87 Eighty seven

Chapter 87 Eighty seven
IVY POV

I grabbed my keys and headed straight for the door, already calling an Uber. The ride to the office took fifteen minutes, and I spent every single one of them scrolling through the news.

The footage was everywhere.

Ronan is being pulled away from some guy outside Luxe, his shirt torn, his face dark with rage. The headline was already spinning into overdrive: “HALE’S FALL FROM GRACE? Pro Hockey Star Caught in Nightclub Brawl.”

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number… probably one of the gossip accounts that had somehow gotten my contact info.

I ignored it.

When I walked into the office, the energy was immediately tense. People were huddled in clusters, phones in hand, whispering. A few heads turned as I passed, and I could feel the weight of their stares.

I made a beeline for my desk, and Claire was already waiting there with a coffee in each hand.

“Here,” she said, shoving one at me. “You’re going to need it. Harrington’s been in his office since seven, and he’s been on the phone with basically everyone. Legal, PR, the league office. It’s a complete shitshow.”

“That bad?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Worse,” Claire said, falling into step beside me as I headed toward my office. “He’s pissed. Like, super pissed. I’ve never seen him like this. He had to personally call three sponsors this morning to do damage control before the markets opened.”

I felt my stomach drop.

“Has he called Ronan’s agent yet?”

“Probably. But Harrington wants you to handle Mr Hales directly,” Claire said, lowering her voice as we passed a group of paralegals. “He made it very clear that this is your job. You were supposed to prevent this.”

“I know,” I muttered.

“Do you think?” A voice came from behind me

I turned to see a face I wasn’t familiar with

“Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you missed something pretty significant. Like, getting drunk and fighting people is significant. I don’t know why you were assigned to this case but I want you to fix it as soon as possible .” She said and walked past me.

I stood there frozen.

“That’s Samantha Reese. She’s in charge of getting Mr Hales ' sponsorships.”

I swallowed hard

We walked toward my office and closed the door behind us. For a moment none of us spoke. My mind was running wild. How do we fix this mess?

“This isn’t looking good.” She shook her head. “Harrington’s going to have your head for this.”

“I know.”

“So what are you going to do?”

I pulled up Ronan’s contact again, but I hadn’t called him yet. I needed to think. Needed to figure out what had set him off enough to get into a fight in the first place.

And I needed to do it before Harrington decided I wasn’t capable of handling this job.

“I’m going to talk to him,” I said. “Find out what happened. Then we’re going to craft a statement that makes this go away.”

“In that order?” Claire asked skeptically. “Because right now, Harrington wants that statement like now.”

“It has to be authentic,” I said. “If Ronan just apologizes without actually explaining what happened, people are going to smell the PR spin from a mile away.”

Claire nodded slowly, as she understood.

“Okay,” she said. “But you need to move fast. Would try to come up with an excuse for you till then. Fix this in three hours .”

“Three hours,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Three hours,” Claire confirmed. She set her own coffee down on the corner of my desk. “And Ivy? You’ve worked so hard to get here you don’t want this to mess things up for you.”

I stared at her for a while then nodded, pulling up my phone to call Ronan. But before I could dial, Claire leaned forward.

“I try to do what I can,” she said, straightening up. “I’ll hold down the fort out here. Keep your phone on. And Ivy?” She paused at the door. “Whatever this is, fix it fast.”

Then she was gone.

I immediately dialed Ronan’s number. He picked up on the first ring, like he’d been waiting.

“I’m already awake,” he said before I could even speak. “And before you ask, yes, I’ve seen all of it.”

“What the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my voice low even though my office door was closed. “Why were you at a club? Why were you drinking? Why were you fighting?”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“It’s complicated,” he finally said.

“Uncomplicate it,” I snapped. “You have approximately two hours and fifty-five minutes before Harrington loses his mind completely, and right now my job—my actual career—is on the line because of your bad decisions.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry, Ivy. I really am.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” I said. “Explaining does. So talk to me. What happened?”

Another pause. Longer this time. I could hear him moving around, maybe getting out of bed.

“I ran into someone last night,” he finally said. “Someone from my past. Someone I didn’t expect to see.”

“Who?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes,” I said sharply. “It matters because whatever this person said or did was significant enough to make you throw punches. And I need to know what that was so I can spin this in a way that makes you look less like a reckless asshole and more like someone who had a legitimate reason to lose control.”

He let out a bitter laugh.

“There’s no spinning this, Ivy.”

“There’s always a spin,” I said. “But I need the truth first. Who was it?”

He went quiet for so long I thought the call had dropped.

Then he finally spoke.

“Come over to my place. I’ll explain.”

I paused, gripping the phone tighter.

“Really, Ronan?” I asked slowly, disbelief creeping in.

His voice was rough, a little tired. “I know what you’re thinking. That I’m trying to get you there just to sleep with you.”

I scoffed under my breath.

“And aren’t you?”

A beat.

Then he admitted bluntly, “I wouldn’t mind it. Right now… it would probably help clear my head.”

My jaw tightened.

“You’re about to ruin everything I’ve worked hard for, and you’re thinking about sex?” I snapped.

Silence again.

Then his voice went colder, .

“Come to my place if you want answers.”

Then just like that he hung up.