Chapter 20
H annah’s parting words rang in Ward’s ears long after the call ended. He never lacked for words – on or off the ice; he was the epitome of a chirper. Except for right then.
Graphic novel or comic book.
Was she right? Had he purposely created this overly macho, alpha-goon persona? When he’d first turned pro, his coach had drilled in the notion that the slightest show of weakness at face-off meant that your opponent already had you even before the puck hit the ice.
It was a lesson he’d taken to heart and had pretty much lived by ever since.
But as Hannah pointed out, the real-world game was played by different rules. Was he making things harder than they needed to be? Worse yet, his mind hesitated before it drifted down a different avenue, was he playing the hero or villain in his own story?
He picked up his Nokia again and studied the device. Another way of trying too hard to be above the fray with the choices he made? Going against the grain by rote. Or was he just a wannabe bad boy in possession of a stubborn streak and chip on his shoulder – a pathetic duster people secretly rolled their eyes at and laughed at the moment he left the room. He shuddered at the notion. That definitely wasn’t how he wanted to be seen – and the very possibility of it being a reality made his stomach roil with embarrassment.
At that moment, he heard the soft patter of furry feet and a faint meow before the cat landed on the armrest of the couch following a stealthy jump. Pretzel eyed him inquisitively, a knowing look on her face. As if she understood the conflict waging inside his head. And he was pretty sure he saw the damn cat roll her eyes.
‘I see you judging me. Not cool, after all I’ve done for you.’
The feline turned away, tail straight in the air, clearly showing Ward what her thoughts were on the matter.
‘At least you’re honest.’
His head slumped back on the headrest and returned to his thoughts.
OK, maybe he could stop resisting so much and just go along with this for the moment. See what Hannah suggested next. He didn’t have to like it, but it truly did feel like she was being sincere in wanting to help him. If playing along meant that he could get back in Panthers’ management good books and back on the ice, life should go back to normal, right?
Because that’s all Ward truly wanted. To continue playing the sport he loved for as long as he could. That was always his priority. So if he felt confused about who he was as a person now, the waters became a whole lot murkier if he had to contemplate who the hell he would be if he wasn’t a hockey player.
He also had to admit that the idea of working with Hannah felt a hell of a lot better than actively working against her, like he’d done with other PR people in the past and which he was ashamed to admit, with her thus far too. She did seem genuine, like she actually cared.
And when she looked at Ward it was right in the eye, not somewhere beyond his shoulder like other people did when he didn’t immediately live up to expectations. Could he actually trust her? Was this a shot worth taking?
Ward exhaled and suddenly coming to a decision, he picked up the phone again and flipped it open.
Pinging out a quick text message to Bernie, he kept it brief.
OK, I’ll do as she says from now on. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like it though.
He pressed send and then waited for his agent to respond.
A minute passed, then two, then four. No response. The churning stomach roiled again and he belched a little, tasting the alcohol from earlier.
He knew Bernie was pissed at him for yet another public mess-up. And he needed his agent to be on-side. Besides Johnny, who had no sway with the suits, Bernie was the only true advocate outside of the team he had left. The last thing Ward needed now was for Bernie (or worse, Coach Lewis too) to also start seeing him as a liability and concede to Hannah that there was no fixing him and she shouldn’t bother.
Especially when he’d finally decided to play nice.
He felt the cat stir again and approach on his left-hand side. She crawled right up onto his chest and took a seat like a monarch getting comfortable on her throne. Ward met her gaze, the cat’s amber-flecked eyes boring into his as if he were the biggest idiot on the planet.
‘Yeah? What do you want?’
She tilted her head as if confused by his apparent stupidity, then chirruped and extended a paw, swatting him across the chest.
He barked a laugh. ‘So, I’m gonna be told what to do on all fronts now, huh?’ He edged her off his chest and pulled himself up. ‘OK. I get it. You’re hungry. Let’s get you fed. Great, now I’m taking orders from a cat, too.’
Ward climbed off the couch and Pretzel followed in his wake, pleased that he was smart enough to take a hint and jump in line.