Emma threw up twice before noon, which didn't bode well for her plan to handle both meetings. She sat in the Netflix offices, trying to look professional while fighting waves of nausea.
"Mrs. Mitchell-Volkov?" A young assistant appeared. "They're ready for you in Conference Room A."
Emma checked her phone. 1:45 PM. Perfect timing to dial into Alek's board call first.
But when she connected to the NHL conference line, the conversation was already heated.
"Commissioner Volkov," a gruff voice was saying, "your personal situation is becoming a distraction from league business."
Emma's stomach clenched, and not from morning sickness.
"With respect," Alek's voice was tight, "my family situation hasn't affected my performance—"
"Hasn't it?" another voice interrupted. "The Toronto relocatio
