PRACTICE WAS OVER and I was coming off the ice when Gordon motioned for me to come over.
“What’s up, coach?”
“GM wants to have a meeting with you.”
My gut sank. Nothing ever good came from meetings with the GM. “Sure.”
“Shower and head up to the offices.”
“Okay.”
“And maybe keep this one to yourself.”
A secret meeting. Fuck me.
While I showered, I reviewed my performance to date. I pushed myself hard at every practice. I was learning the style of coaching and the team. At night, I watched tapes of practices and old games. I worked to bond with the team.
The bonding wasn’t going well. I was open to going out for beers with anyone who asked. The problem was, no one was asking. And they politely declined any overtures I made to invite them out. They were good guys, but they didn’t want to have anything to do with me.
I missed my old team. My mates had been like family. We had a synergy on and off the ice. Here, this team just felt like a job. And that kind of attitude would show up at the games. We hadn’t gelled yet and even I knew that would be an issue.
None of the other players asked where I was going when I left the locker room.
I made my way upstairs to the corporate offices. The receptionist showed me into the office of Mark Ashford. Gordon was already in the office. They were waiting for me.
“Ryan,” Mark Ashford, the GM, welcomed me without a smile. “Come in.”
“Thanks,” I dropped my gym bag and lowered myself to a seat next to Gordon.
Ashford was a piranha in a suit. In the hockey world, everyone feared and revered him. He was famous for his ruthless team cuts and he didn’t shy away from making tough calls or spending money to build his team. Last year the Vancouver Wolves had won the Stanley Cup.
Now the GM leaned back in his chair and studied me. I held his gaze, internally bracing myself for whatever he would say.
“Gordon and I were just talking about you.”
“I figured.”
“You look better than good out there. You’re fast. You’re accurate and you work hard.”
“Thank you.”
He held eyes with Gordon too long for my liking. “How do you think you’re getting along with the guys?”
“We’re still feeling each other out.”
“Do you feel like you’re bonding?”
“We’ll get there.”
Ashford leaned forward and looked at me intently. “Do you know why you were traded to the Vancouver Wolves?”
I shook my head.
“I made a bet with Paulson, your old GM in LA, and I lost the bet.”
My stomach dropped. “What was the bet?”
“The winner got to pick the trade, and the loser had to accept the trade.”
I swallowed hard. This was worse than I imagined. My new team didn’t want me here. It was disheartening to realize that my new GM didn’t want me either. “Why me?”
“Paulson knew it’d be a hit to lose you, but he also knew with your salary, and the salary cap, not only would I have to trade one player to him, but I’d also have to drop one player.”
Noah Moore. He was the reason my new team hated me. He was the reason I lay awake at night in a pool of guilt.
“I understand,” I managed to say.
He continued. “You’re one of the strongest players in the league today and no one wants this to work out more than us.”
I glanced at Gordon, who sat looking at us with crossed arms. “What Mark is trying to say is that in order for you to find success on our team, we need you to be part of the team.”
I felt a cold sweat break over me. Translation: my place in this team was in jeopardy unless I learned to fit in. “Got it. How much time do I have?”
Ashford sighed. “I’m required to keep you for the length of the season. So, let’s make this work, okay?”
“I’ll make it work.” My promise rang hollow to my own ears.
“So, tomorrow we’d like to promote you.”
My head shot up. “What?”
“We want to make you assistant captain.”
“What did Logan say?” I mentioned Max Logan, the captain.
“It was his idea.”
I sat there trying to absorb that.
Gordon jumped in. “We thought if we put you in a leadership position it would help you assimilate with the team better.”
This was unreal. “What did Jensen say?”
Jensen was the other assistant captain. And not my biggest fan.
Gordon looked uncomfortable. “He was less on board.”
Of course, he wasn’t. Jensen was Noah’s best friend, and he hated my guts.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.”
I looked between the two men. It was highly unusual that a new player would make it to AC so soon after joining the team. It felt engineered.
Ashford leaned forward. “We want to put that situation with Noah behind you as much as you do. You’re one of the most valuable players in the league today. I know what you can contribute to this team. But I will fucking destroy anyone who gets in the way of this team getting what it deserves.”
I read that message another way. I needed to perform and get this show on the road or valuable or not, they would get rid of me. I needed to make this work.
I looked at Gordon. “You don’t think this is too soon?”
Ashford stood up. “It’s happening and my lawyers will draft the paperwork tonight. We will send the contract to your agent tomorrow, so give Krista a heads up.”
I stood up, and we shook hands. “Thank you.”
He slapped my shoulder. “Go out and celebrate.”
SOMEONE WALKING on the sidewalk caught my eye. She was small and dark and wearing a familiar leather jacket.
Zoey.
Without thinking, I made a California lane change across three lanes to pull up ahead of her. I sat and waited until she passed.
I debated asking her if she wanted to go grab a bite to eat. I rolled down my passenger window and when she glanced at me I realized it wasn’t Zoey. It was just another petite rocker chick.
I gave the girl a smile and then pretended to look at something on my phone. Jesus. I needed to get it together. Zoey was long gone and our paths would never cross again.
My phone rang.
“Ryan here.”
“This is Krista.”
“Oh, hey.”
“So, something interesting happened today. The Wolves delivered paperwork promoting you to assistant captain.”
“Wow, that was fast.”
“Ryan, a heads up here would have been nice.”
“They just told me after practice. I’m not even home yet.”
“You should have called me the minute your ass left their office.”
“Sorry.”
“So, congratulations. Did you know they were going to promote you?”
“No. They blindsided me.”
“Is everything okay?” Even Krista knew this was completely out of the ordinary.
“Yeah. No. Fuck, I don’t know.”
“Ryan. You pay me a lot of money to help you. But I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
I slowly moved my vehicle back into traffic. ‘They said they know I’m not bonding with the team. They told me I need to make that happen or I’m out.’
“That hit you made on Noah Moore was clean. It was a fluke accident.”
“Tell that to my new team.”
“We both knew this would be a difficult transition for you. Everyone loved Noah.”
“Ashford said the only reason why he traded me is because he lost a bet with Paulson. Did you know that?”
Krista sighed. “I’d heard rumors.”
“Why me?”
‘Paulson thinks he gave Ashford a handicap by sending you to Vancouver. He thinks you’ll cause dissension on the team.’
“Well, he got that right.” It was bad enough that no one on the team wanted me here, but it gutted me that my GM wasn’t behind me.
“Did they say why they are promoting you?”
“They thought it would help me integrate with the team better.”
“That might work or it could completely piss off the team more. Whose idea was it?”
“Apparently Max Logan suggested it.”
“If he’s advocating for you, you’ve got a shot.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ve got your back.”
She was the only one.
“By the way, I’ve had my PA put an ad up for a PA for you. My office will screen the candidates and we will narrow it down to the top candidates for you to interview.”
“Krista.”
“Ryan. Trust me on this. You need a PA. You’re just going to burn yourself out if you don’t. How many letters from fans have you answered?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I can tell you. You haven’t opened any because your fan mail is being directed to my office and we have four boxes of unopened letters.”
“Shit.”
“Hire a PA. Let him or her help you so you can focus on hockey.”
“Yeah, fine.”
