I caved. “I know one of the hockey players in the city, and he wanted an autograph.”
There it was. The knowing look in his eyes. Like of course I was only here to connect with a hockey player.
“A close friend?”
“Not that close.” But my cheeks felt warm, and he was drawing his own conclusions. Taking this as confirmation of his own bias.
“I’m tied up in meetings tomorrow, so we’ll have to reschedule our get-together.”
Why couldn’t he have just emailed me? Then he wouldn’t have overheard Norman. “Fine,” I gritted out.
“Let me know anytime you’re ready.”
My hands were fisted in my lap. I’d been ready. I’d hoped he would finally approve my project.
He wandered off again.
I opened my laptop. I reread my email to the chair.
I didn’t want to be a complainer. People had to deal with adversity and learn to work through it. Sending this would say I couldn’t do it on my own. How would I explain that to my parents?
I left it in drafts. I’d just work harder.
Chapter 22
WAG Adjacent
Josh
After another loss in Dallas, we spent the night in a hotel before flying back north. I think we were all happy to get some rest and postpone returning to our disappointed fans in Toronto.
I was up early in the morning, thanks to the time zone changes, and went out to get coffee. It was nice to stretch my legs a bit before the flight, and the weather here was great. Some places we went, there were a lot of hockey fans, but not in Dallas. There were fans, sure, but basketball and football were the most popular sports here, and both of those teams’ seasons were underway. The local billboards had way more b-ball adverts than for our sport. Hockey was better, obviously, but not as good a fit down here.
My phone beeped while I was in the lineup for my drink and I pulled it out, hoping maybe Katie had decided to call. We’d texted, but I liked hearing her voice. Sadly, it wasn’t her but my agent, Allen.
I declined the call and texted I’d call him back. Hockey might not be as popular here, but I wasn’t talking to my agent where someone might overhear and leak whatever I said. I left the coffee shop to find a quiet corner. Allen was a good guy, but he didn’t call to shoot the shit. He usually emailed, since I couldn’t respond when I was working out or practicing or playing or even traveling. A call meant something was up.
“Hey, Allen.”
“Give me three teams you’d like to play for.”
I was confused and hadn’t had my coffee yet. “Uh, Team Canada in the Olympics, the Toronto Blaze and…” Could I pick one of those dynasty teams from the past? Allen didn’t normally ask weird what-if questions. Maybe it was for an interview?
“Josh, I’m not joking around. Three NHL teams that aren’t the Blaze.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “The Blaze are struggling.”
“Yeah.” Hockey was less of a happy place this season. Not that I hadn’t been on teams that lost—well, not many. But that was part of sports. This season was frustrating because we had the talent. We’d done so well last season that expectations were high. Something wasn’t gelling, and none of us knew how to fix it.
“Management has to shake something up. They can’t let things ride. Too many talented players on the team, too many big contracts. They haven’t completely given up yet, but they’re starting to look at options.”
Options. A sinking feeling settled in my belly. Allen asking where I’d like to play meant I was one of those options.
When I’d been traded to the Blaze, I’d had one year left on my contract. Nashville hadn’t made the playoffs for a couple of years, so going to a competitive team had been exciting. I’d gladly signed another contract with the Blaze. If I had a choice, I’d rather be with a team that was in the playoffs and in the hunt for the Cup than one looking for a high draft pick.
I hadn’t been eligible for a no-trade clause. At that point, I had no ties to the city anyway. Katie wasn’t there then.
