Coach Lewis was leaving? He couldn’t conceive of playing under someone other than his beloved mentor who’d been at the helm since before he’d signed with the team. The big man had always looked out for all his players, both on and off the ice. He was even the one who’d encouraged Bernie to do all this image overhaul stuff to keep Ward from falling out of favour with the top brass. Granted the team’s winning streak had suffered of late, but Coach Lewis was Panthers through-and-through and a battler too. He truly couldn’t imagine the old man throwing in the towel and walking away of his own accord.

So did he jump? Or was he pushed?

‘Rest assured we’re already on the case and have put plans in place to help usher in a new era – a changing of the guard, if you will,’ Sumners went on, pretty much answering Ward’s unspoken question. If they already had someone lined up then yeah, poor Coach had been unceremoniously axed. ‘So to ensure that next season we get some of that old predatory fire back in the team’s belly, and return to the greatness we all so richly desire, I’m excited to introduce to you all tonight – our brand-new head coach of the New York Panthers, the legendary … Jefferson Prince!’

You have got to be kidding me . . .

As thunderous applause exploded all around him, Ward pulled away from Hannah’s grasp, then turned and all but ran out of the banquet room.

He couldn’t do this. Not again.

Chapter 46

HANNAH

Hannah was about to go after Ward, but still uncertain as to what was going on, and deeply confused by his reaction to it, she couldn’t help but stay where she was. Her attention was drawn to the heavyset guy in his late fifties heading up to stand beside Sumners, apparently the Panthers’ (and Ward’s) brand-new coach.

After some brief backslapping, and once the applause died down, Jefferson Prince took the microphone from Sumners and boomed, ‘Well, judging from the sound of that welcome, it’s good to know there’s still some real men left in the game.’ More rapturous applause.

Hannah grew uncomfortable at the sudden change of atmosphere; there was now an edge to it that was akin to a political rally.

She stood there, confused. Who was this guy?

‘Thank you, thank you,’ Prince continued, flashing a set of brilliant white teeth. ‘Glad to see that I’m among friends here. When Craig called me up about this job, he said that he remembered a time when being an athlete meant something, signified that you were different, possessed a talent others lacked, and people looked up to because they knew you were different. Faster. Stronger. Better.