CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR #2
“I’d have to discuss it with Tom, of course,” she said. “Neither of us make big, life-altering decisions about things like this without making sure we’re both on the same page.”
“Of course,” Sebastian said. “I understand. I would do the same.”
“Are you in a relationship?” she asked, her tone politely curious.
“Uhh, well,” he said, trying to figure out how to word this. “I started seeing someone recently and we’re—yeah, we’re giving it a go.”
He was tempted to blurt out that she knew the man he was involved with, but Sebastian wasn’t about to out Luke that way. Sure, he’d said he’d tell his team eventually, but how and when he came out was his call.
Sebastian laughed when he realized his relationship with Luke would make him a SAP too. He and Krista had more in common than she realized.
She tilted her head, giving him a puzzled look and he waved it off. “Just … really feeling enthusiastic about this idea,” he admitted. “And if you’re up for it, I have an idea of where we could start if we decide to go forward with this.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, you already know Catherine O’Shea. She’s been trying to get me to do the florals for the Harriers Foundation events …”
“So, uh, why did you want to meet?” Luke asked a few days later, when they were seated in Gavin’s office with takeout from a nice seafood restaurant in Back Bay.
Luke had ordered a spicy seafood linguine that smelled delicious as he cracked open the lid. They’d just finished practice and he was starving.
“I wanted to discuss your contract,” Gavin said, opening his own container of grilled swordfish, with broccoli and brown rice. He gave Luke’s pasta a longing look.
“Isn’t contract stuff all supposed to go through Mac?” Luke shot a questioning glance at Gavin.
He waggled his hand back and forth. “Traditionally, yes. There’s nothing in the CBA preventing us from speaking like this, however.”
“Okay,” Luke said warily, stabbing his fork into his pasta and twirling. He trusted Gavin to know what the collective bargaining agreement between the league and the players’ union had agreed on.
“I also spoke to Mac earlier and he gave me permission to speak to you directly,” Gavin said.
Luke nodded, chewing.
Gavin might not be a traditional general manager, but he was a good dude. Had integrity.
Luke’s opinion of him hadn’t changed since he learned that Gavin had committed a robbery when he was eighteen, and Thad had gone to prison in his place, in an attempt to save him. They were both good dudes, as far as Luke was concerned.
People made mistakes—especially at that age—but Luke respected when someone learned from theirs. He’d done his share of stupid shit himself. He’d just been lucky enough to not get caught.
Gavin leaned forward. “We’re getting nowhere on your contract negotiations.”
“Yeah, I had noticed that,” Luke said drily.
Gavin cracked a smile. “Look, I want to make one thing clear. My unwillingness to offer you two years has nothing to do with what I think of you as a player or your value to the team.”
“Then what is it?” Luke glanced down at his pasta.
“If I can be perfectly blunt, I don’t know where this team is going to be in two years,” Gavin said with a sigh. “We have a lot riding on this postseason.”
“I know.”
“I am sure you also know Connor’s shoulder could use some work.”
Luke nodded.
“Getting him through the postseason is going to be difficult.”
Luke twirled more pasta around his fork. “Sure.”
“And if we don’t win, and he has to have surgery in the off-season, he’ll be out for a good chunk of next season.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Luke said.
Gavin sighed and sat back. “My task has been to re-tool this team to get us in contention without completely sacrificing the future. I’ve done as much as I can to simultaneously add depth and acquire future prospects for the organization.
And clearly, it’s working. I’ve been incredibly impressed with what you’ve all done so far this season.
But being without our captain and one of our top scorers for an extended period of time, well … ”
Luke chewed his pasta and nodded. Without Connor, they’d be hurting.
“If we lose in the postseason this year, we’ve maybe got one more year to turn it around and go hard,” Gavin said. “After that …” He gestured as if to say it was out of his hands.
“Ownership will start thinking about a teardown,” Luke guessed.
“Realistically, yes,” Gavin stabbed a piece of broccoli, glowering at it. Luke wasn’t sure if he hated the vegetable, the idea of a teardown, or both.
“And I wouldn’t be part of that, yeah?” He lifted his eyebrows.
“You’re turning thirty-five this summer, Luke.” Gavin’s tone was surprisingly gentle now. “Would I love to have you play two more seasons? Absolutely. But are you going to be able to? Physically, are you confident your body will continue to perform at the level you’re at?”
Luke tore into a piece of garlicky sourdough bread as he thought about his growing aches and pains.
How much more effort it took to recover from every game this season.
And they were in March now, the intensity of the regular season building like always.
March and April were always the hardest months of the season, and the postseason would only ramp that up further.
How would he feel when he was playing playoff hockey?
If they did get knocked out, would a shortened off-season be enough recovery time? Could he go into another season or two and play like he had been?
And what about O’Neill’s Pub being up for sale? Clearly, Liam wasn’t hunting for a buyer right this second, but would he be willing to wait two whole years?
The more Luke thought about owning not just a bar, but the place where he and the team had gathered for decades … the more right it felt. All his spare time lately had been spent with Sebastian or reworking his business plan and tailoring it to the idea of buying O’Neill’s.
He could picture flipping the sign on the old wooden door from closed to open every day.
He could imagine expanding the kitchen a little to offer more than the basic fried snacks that Liam had.
Luke could see himself offering good, hearty food—nothing fancy, but the kind of stuff that would draw people in for more than just the great atmosphere and drinks.
He’d be behind the bar, nodding as his former teammates came in, laughing and joking around with them as he made drinks.
Luke could even picture Sebastian ducking in the door after work.
Coaxing Sebastian to take a seat on a stool by the bar, then sliding a dish of something delicious across the bar top to him. He could imagine Sebastian leaning over to give him a quick kiss hello and the way Tanner and the other guys would chirp him about it.
And … he wanted that. He wanted all it so much it took him by surprise.
The question was, did he want it more than he wanted to keep playing hockey?
“Give me a year,” Luke said roughly, glancing up at Gavin again. “If you’re willing, let me see how I feel at the end of this postseason and where my body and the team are at and I’ll decide if I want to sign for one more year.”
Gavin frowned. “Are you still hoping for two? Because I still can’t think of a scenario where I’d be able to offer you that …”
Luke shook his head and took a deep breath as he realized what choice he needed to make.
“No. I get why you can’t offer me that. But let me see how I feel and how the team does.
If we somehow manage to pull it off”—Luke knocked on Gavin’s wooden desk at even tempting the hockey gods by thinking about a Cup win—“I may be ready for retirement. If not, I’ll probably ask for one more year. ”
Surprise crossed Gavin’s face. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“It helps knowing your reasoning for not giving me two years,” Luke admitted. “And lately … well, I’ve been starting to think about what I might do after hockey.”
“It’s great that you’re thinking about the future. Too many guys my age didn’t,” Gavin said with a smile. He wiped his fingers on a napkin, then held out a hand. “You have a deal. Tell Mac what we discussed, and we’ll revisit this in the off-season once we see where the team is at.”
Luke shook, another of the tight bands that had felt like they were strangling the air from his lungs falling away.
It was starting to feel like he might just have some kind of life after hockey.