3
SYLAS
“How are you liking Boston?”
I drum my fingers along my thigh, overlooking the Harbor from my new agent’s office window. The sun is just barely setting over the horizon, the summery rays filtering through and warming up her office.
“Fine, it’s Boston,” I reply, indifferent. I’m bored, ready to go.
“You could pretend to be excited.” Harlow grins from the other side of her desk.
I don’t share her enthusiasm, nor do I force a smile.
She must know because it drops and she sits upright, sporting a pensive but stern expression.
“I can’t keep doing this. I love my job, love that you gave me the chance to represent you when no one else would.
I will forever be grateful for you, but I need you to work with me here.
I need you to act like you love the team, the city, all that Boston has to offer.
You need to stop the I hate everything bullshit and get it together. ”
My spine stiffens, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t look at me like you’re contemplating firing me.
Either do it or let me help you because we can’t keep going around in circles.
” She pauses, shoulders rising as she inhales deeply.
“You are beyond talented. I’ve seen your film, seen you play in person, and your numbers don’t lie.
But that means nothing if you don’t make yourself easy to work with.
We need to clean up your image, remind people why they loved you to begin with and why they should continue to support you, especially those who are above you, who pay you to be part of this team, who are giving you a chance.
Please let me help you, and if you want to hate every second of it, that’s fine, but keep it on the down-low.
” She sighs. “I suggest you give it a chance. Who knows, you might end up loving it here.”
She’s not wrong, and I feel like a dumbass.
I was traded a few months ago and it’s been an adjustment, although it shouldn’t because I saw this coming.
I knew it would happen. My previous agent spoke to me about my attitude and the fights.
At that time, I didn’t care and hadn’t thought about it until I was officially traded.
Reality sunk in when I met my team and settled into the city I’d be living in. Granted, I’d been to Boston many times before, so it wasn’t anything new. But Colorado became home and it was the farthest I could get from New York, away from my parents and bitter memories.
In hindsight, I did this to myself. I fucked it all up and have no one else to blame.
I regret it, but I don’t regret firing my previous agent.
Camden Parsons is an old friend of my parents, has been in the industry for a while, knows people, and knows how to manipulate a situation to go his way.
I didn’t want to work with him, but my parents insisted.
So I let it happen, and I’ll forever regret it.
Harlow Stone reached out to me not even seconds after news broke that I had fired him. She’s two years younger than me and having just graduated, she had no experience whatsoever.
She not only did her research, but she knows hockey—has played before—and is a mathematical genius. She broke down numbers for me, things I’d never considered, and I realized just how badly Camden had taken advantage.
I’ll hate myself for ever listening to my parents, but I need to stop thinking about the past. Harlow is the present and I just hope I’m not fucking myself over by hiring someone so young and with no experience at that.
So far though she’s been—mostly—professional, and despite her age, she acts ten times older. And she’s not easily intimidated.
“Right, yeah, I’m sorry.” I stop drumming my fingers and interlace them, planting them on my lap. “This is all pretty unexpected. I’m still processing.”
“Completely understandable. Change is always strange and uncomfortable, but sometimes it’s just what we need. And maybe this is what you need.” She offers me a friendly, relaxed smile. “And you’re playing with Marcello. It’ll almost be as though you were playing for King’s Yard again.”
That’s a positive, knowing I’ll be with my best friend and right winger. He’s been playing for the Arctic Owls since we both got drafted into the NHL six years ago. Speaking of Marc, I’ll be seeing him and some of the guys from the team in a few.
I’m only in Harlow’s office because she likes having one-on-one meetings to go over contracts and endorsements. She likes to keep me in the know, and while this could’ve been a Zoom call, she prefers in person.
“Yeah, almost.”
“Good, then the transition shouldn’t be too bad.
Look, I know it’s not what you wanted, but things could be worse.
And you’re in Boston—there’s a lot to do, a lot to see.
I don’t know if you like pastries, but a bakery opened up a few months ago.
It’s called Everything Everything and is just a five-minute walk from here. I highly recommend it.”
At the mention of baked goods, I’m launched into the past.
“Thanks for being my test rat.” Anna plops a small piece of bread into my mouth.
My lips quirk into a grin as I chew. Fuck me, this is good. “Test rat? You couldn’t have thought of another name? Rat makes me sound so…dirty.”
She rolls her eyes, fighting back a grin as she folds her arms over her chest. “Tell me, how is it?”
“Rat just makes me sound…I don’t know…I don’t like it.” I feel her impatience as I drag it out, knowing exactly what she’s waiting to hear.
“Sy, please. Is it shit? It’s shit, isn’t it? God, I shouldn’t have added so much—”
A chuckle slips past my mouth as I grab her hand and pull her to straddle me. “This is so fucking good. What is that? Passionfruit and guava? My mouth is in heaven right now.”
She swats my arm, blowing out an exasperated breath. “You had me there for a second. I thought it was shit.”
“Nothing you make is shit.” I circle my arms around her waist, leaning forward to place a kiss below the curve of her jaw.
“Don’t lie to make me feel better.” I hear the smile in her voice. “Remember the focaccia? It was so salty we couldn’t eat it.”
Yeah, that was shit, but she’d made it with a lot of love. I tried to eat it, but it was like drinking a cup of ocean water.
“Trial and error, meu bem.” I nip the pulse on her neck. “This was good, please tell me there’s more.”
“A lot more. Let go.” She gives a weak attempt to climb off me, but I hold on to her.
“I can’t, let’s stay like this forever…” I press my lips to hers.
I stand from my chair and head for Harlow’s door. “Not a fan of sweets. Can’t stand them, actually.”
“Fair enough, but if you ever change your mind, give it a chance.”