Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
CHANCE
I’m face-deep in a tower of cheesy onion rings when my phone buzzes. Popping out my wireless earphones, I pause the Lucky Striker’s playoff video and mindlessly tap on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Chance, my man!”
My eyes widen and I whip my gaze down to the phone.
Derek - Agent
“Derek, I’ve been trying to reach you.” I look around for a napkin. When I find none, I stick my ketchup-stained thumb into my mouth, wipe the vestiges of salt from the rings on my T-shirt and scoop the phone up.
“Sorry, Chance. Been super busy. You know how it is.”
I’m sure he’s been busy...
Busy ghosting me.
Busy taking down my pictures from the company walls.
Busy scouting the next kid who’ll catapult him toward his next paycheck and the in-door pool he wanted to build.
My agent has always come across as more oily salesman than genuine friend. However, it never bothered me. Growing up with money means I’ve met a hundred Dereks in my lifetime. What made Derek different was that he saw me as his money ticket because of hockey. Not because of my mother’s trust fund or my family’s connections.
I know exactly what gets Derek up in the morning.
Which is why his sudden call is so left field.
“I heard you signed with your college buddy. Max Mahoney, was it? Word on the street is he’s getting a local team off the ground. Plans to parade them around in the minors. How’s that working out for you?”
“We’ll see when the season starts, but actually, Derek, now that I have you on the line, I wanted to discuss?—”
“Negotiating with the league for a shortened suspension?”
I brighten. “Sounds like you already have a plan?”
“No, I don’t. And I’d give up on that dream if I were you.”
I reach for my fidget spinner which is dangling on the edge of the coffee table and give it a flick.
“Look, Chance, even high school students serve their full detention. What kind of havoc would it wreak if every athlete tried to negotiate out of an official ruling? Especially players with a reputation as awful as yours?”
I bristle immediately. “Who’s the one who encouraged me to take a stand on the ice? Who said it would be good for my ‘aggressively, masculine brand’?”
“Sure, sure. I might have encouraged you to play hard, but that was just for the ice. I’m not the one who took it off ice and started a brawl with the opposing team?”
“I didn’t start that fight…” I clear my throat. “I just… finished it.”
“To the tune of getting a suspension, losing all your brand deals and handing out millions in settlements. If it weren’t for your family’s money, you’d be done.”
I’m flicking so hard the fidget spinner sounds like helicopter blades. “I bear full responsibility for the mess I’m in. I’m assuming you didn’t call just to rub salt in the wound?”
“The opposite, actually. I’ve got good news.”
“If it’s not a shortened suspension, then it’s not good enough.”
“Your name’s trending.”
I groan. “What now? Is it Sethburg? Trying to lie to the press again?”
The other player who’d gotten suspended along with me, Sethburg, has been on an apology tour. Honestly, he should just give up on hockey and go right into acting. The guy’s single-handedly responsible for the rise in eye drop stocks. I’m sure he bought a ton of them to help him produce so many tears on camera.
Derek chuckles. “Don’t blame Sethburg for playing the game. I offered to take you on a media tour. You’re the one who wanted to settle with money.”
I lean back in the sofa, my legs spreading wide. “You know I can’t apologize for things I’m not sorry for.”
I’m suddenly reminded of April and how she reacted when I told her the very same thing. Her eyes had widened slightly and a blush spread over her face. Watching the red seep into her freckled cheeks had my chest tightening strangely…
No, not just strange.
S cary.
I’d never felt like that before.
I need to keep my distance from that woman because I can see myself becoming addicted to making her blush.
“…I agree. She’s a looker that one.”
I sway forward, planting both feet flat on the ground. There’s no way Derek read my thoughts about April, did he?
“…the flannel shirt and no makeup schtick is cute…”
That definitely sounds like April. Although her flannel shirt is mostly for the comfort of working on cars and not a ‘shtick’.
“I personally prefer the glamorous types, but I can work with this. I’d brand her as the girl-next-door, fresh-faced, Farmer Jill…”
Farmer Jill? What?
“… It’s not a bad angle, Chance. All those glamorous, social media stars look the same now anyway. Fake this. Fake that. This woman stands out because she’s the opposite of all that. And more importantly, your fans are responding to seeing you with uh, a more down-to-earth woman?—”
“Derek, you mind backing all the way up there? I think I missed a big chunk of this conversation.”
“I was saying I could do a Farmer Jill brand?—”
“Before the Farmer Jill thing.” I wave my hand.
“Oh, your new girlfriend is trending.”
“My what is what? ” I explode from the sofa.
“Your girl. Your lady. Your woman.”
“ Woman? ”
“Why are you yelling?” He gasps. “Farmer Jill is a woman, right? Not that I’m judging. I mean, it would explain the flannel?—”
“Yes, she’s a woman, but she’s not my woman. April is…” I stop short of saying ‘a friend’. We didn’t exactly have the best interaction when we parted outside the hotel.
From the way she turned down all my invitations and tore out of the hotel’s driveway leaving skid marks behind, she’s not gung ho about seeing me again.
“If she’s not your girlfriend, why did you fight over her with some guy?” Derek sounds genuinely baffled. “Why’d you take her out to eat in front of everybody? Why’d you let so many people film it? You’re usually so careful about who you’re seen with, so I thought… with her… weren’t you trying to make a statement?”
I lean my head back and groan.
In the height of my popularity, I jumped through hoops to make sure the paparazzi never took pictures of me and my dates. Being the source of tabloid gossip was a hassle. The paparazzi hunted me like a rabbit with a hound dog and it felt like my life was under a microscope.
Dating became a rather unpleasant business, so I did less and less of it as I got older, choosing to focus on hockey alone.
“She’s a mechanic,” I say in exasperation. “We stopped to get something to eat on our way to grab my keys. We ran into her ex-boyfriend?—”
“I don’t need the play-by-play.”
“I should clarify for her sake,” I insist.
April must be horrified. She was nervous about being the topic of a neighborhood group chat. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling knowing the world thinks we’re together.
“Chance, you’d be crazy to stop the momentum now.”
“I’m not doing this, Derek. April’s not one of your athletes. You can’t mold her into a brand for profits.”
“What if I mold her into your ticket out of the boonies?”
I freeze, my fingers tightening on the phone.
“Look, Chance, I don’t really care who she is or why you were filmed. The point is you were. And it’s good. You said she’s a mechanic? Even better. You’ll be the guy who supports women in male dominated industries. You’ll have the internet eating out of your hands.”
A big sigh erupts from my chest. I genuinely admire April and her career choice. I think she’s amazing for opening her own shop. But every word out of Derek’s mouth right now is making me feel smarmy.
“Remember what you said the day the suspension was announced?” Derek coaxes. “You said you’d do anything to get back to the league. You said you’d clean toilets with a toothbrush. Well, getting a pretty girl to date you is ten times better than that. And you get to save your toothbrush.”
I start pacing, unable to keep still but also unable to deny anything he’s pointing out. “There has to be another way.”
“Right now, your reputation is in shambles. You’re not The Clairvoyant. You’re the guy who fights on and off the ice. You’re a bad influence and a hockey pariah.”
“I’m not?—”
“If you weren’t, why’d you sign with a no-name team?”
“I’m in the minor leagues to stay in shape,” I argue.
“You’re in the minor leagues because the Lucky Strikers are so insignificant, your bad press can’t do them any damage. No one here is stupid.”
I cough because that one hit me in the gut.
“Keep the girl by your side, Chance. Only good things will happen if you do.”
“I can’t. She hates me.”
“Then make her un-hate you,” he says, his voice going soft as it usually does when he already has the customer by the hook and he’s starting to reel them in.
“ Derek, your meeting starts in five ,” a voice says in the background.
“Just a minute, Lotty. Chance, we good?”
“No.”
He charges on as if he didn’t hear me. “You want me in your corner again? That’s the plan. Get yourself a steady girlfriend, show the world you’ve changed. Re-brand yourself as hockey’s Prodigal Son. Once you get some brand deals going, get some sponsors back, once you show the league that the public’s forgiven you, they just might forgive you too.”
“I—”
“Good luck out there. I’ll let you know once a big brand reaches out.”
“Derek—”
There’s a click followed by silence.
I fall despondently into the chair and run my hands over my face. Then I run my hands over my hair. Then I do both repeatedly until my hair’s a mess and my face is red.
Charming women is easy… when they’re interested. But how do I convince April to date me when I’m ninety percent sure she would save my Lamborgini over me if we both fell into the ocean?