Caged
Gold Hockey #11
Elise Faber
CAGED
BY ELISE FABER
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
CAGED
Copyright © 2021 Elise Faber
Print ISBN-13: 978-1-63749-002-0
Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-63749-001-2
Cover Art by Jena Brignola
Contents
Gold Cast of Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Epilogue
Crashed
Newsletter
Gold Hockey Series
Gold Hockey
Also by Elise Faber
About the Author
Gold Cast of Characters
Heroes and Heroines:
Brit Plantain (Blocked) — first female goalie in the NHL, loves boy bands
Stefan Barie (Blocked) — captain of the Gold
Sara Jetty (Backhand) — artist and figure skater
Mike Stewart (Backhand) —defenseman for the Gold, romance guru
Blane Hart (Boarding) — center for the Gold, number 22
Mandy Shallows (Boarding) — trainer and physical therapist
Max Montgomery (Benched) — defensemen for the Gold, giant nerd
Angelica Shallows (Benched) — engineer at RoboTech, also a giant nerd
Blue Anderson (Breakaway) — top forward in the league and for the Gold
Anna Hayes (Breakaway) — Max’s former nanny, no relation to Kevin Hayes
Rebecca Stravokraus (Breakout) — Gold publicist, makes killer brownies, known at PR-Rebecca
Kevin Hayes (Breakout) — forward for the Gold, no relation to Anna Hayes
Rebecca Hallbright (Checked) — nutritionist for the Gold, plethora of delicious vegan recipes, known as Nutrionist-Rebecca
Gabe Carter (Checked) — doctor, head trainer for the Gold
Calle Stevens (Coasting) — assistant coach for the Gold, former national team member
Coop Armstrong (Coasting) — talented forward on the Gold, addicted to historical romance audiobooks
Mia Caldwell (Centered) — 5th degree black belt, brings the snark
Liam Williamson (Centered) — Gold forward finding his love for the game, charming and pushy in equal measures
Charlotte Harris (Charging) — new Gold GM, hates losing and the game Chubby Bunny
Logan Walker (Charging) — defensemen for the Gold, skills include: cockiness and being able to buy presents that make Charlotte squirm
Dani Eastbrook (Caged) — video coach for the Gold, tech nerd, could fix your computer in a flash, shy
Ethan Korhonen (Caged) — forward for the Gold, killer power play skills, known as Big Juicy Brain
Devon Scott (Block & Tackle) — former player, current owner Prestige Media group
Becca Scott (Block & Tackle) — Devon’s assistant
Additional Characters:
Fanny — skating coach
Bernard — head coach
Richie — equipment manager
Dan Plantain — Brit’s brother
Diane Barie — Stefan’s mom
Pierre Barie — Stefan’s dad, owner of the Gold
Spence — former goalie, married to Monique, daughter Mirabel
Monique — married to Spence, former model
Mirabel — daughter of Spence and Monique
Mitch — Sara’s boss
Allison and Sean — Blane’s parents
Pascal — Devon Scott’s security lead
Roger Shallows — Mandy’s dad
Grant and Megan — Devon’s parents
Chapter One
Dani
Shy.
She was painfully shy.
Great with tech. Horrible with people.
But that was okay because her job was tech. As a video coach for the Gold, her livelihood depended on how well she could interact with the tech surrounding her at any given time—tech that currently consisted of multiple monitors on her office wall, a desktop, a laptop, and a trio of tablets. She actually had a dozen tablets at her disposal, but the rest were currently being used by the coaching staff.
The Gold had just finished their third game of the season, and though she wouldn’t say her job got lighter as the season progressed, this time, in particular, was dizzying.
There were new players to get up to speed.
Changes to the system that needed to be addressed.
Specific plays the coaches wanted highlighted.
And she was down her assistant—who was out with the stomach flu—and an intern—who’d lied on his resumé, couldn’t actually isolate and/or edit video, and hated everything to do with the game of hockey.
Video. Coach.
Both of those were important—okay, both were critical to her job.
She needed to understand the game, needed to be able to anticipate what the players and coaching staff would need, and she needed to be able to move fast to isolate, tag, and make that content available, both during and after each of the eighty-two regular-season games, not to mention any additional playoff games the team might be lucky enough to participate in.
So, an intern with no interest in the sport was useless.
And an assistant coach, who was confined at home with the stomach plague, was similarly not helpful for the fingertip tap dance she had to conduct during a normal game. It meant she’d played double-duty for the contest, watching eight feeds at once, layering alternate angles together of different parts of the matchup—zone entries, injuries, penalties, or power plays—in addition to being prepared to advise the bench coaches on whether or not to challenge a particular goal.
In a word, by the time she was finishing up her end of the game process—superimposing stats pulled by the NHL onto the various video clips and making them accessible to players and coaches alike—Dani was exhausted.
But, crying over spilled milk and all that.
She didn’t have time for exhaustion or crying or . . . well, not much except to be staring lovingly into her screens, her fingers caressing the keyboards and tablets . . . and yes, she realized that her referring to staring lovingly and caressing anything tech-related meant that she’d probably been single far too long.
Not that single was an uncommon adjective to describe Dani Eastbrooke.
It was usually included, right along with quiet, shy, and painfully awkward.
“Stop,” she whispered. She was who she was, and she didn’t have time for reminiscing or self-flagellation, not when she had enough work for three people and only one person to do it.
A ping came across her cell.
Glancing down, she saw it was a request—or technically, three more
