Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Connor
I can’t fucking take this shit anymore. My father has gone too far, and it’s all my fault. I should have put a stop to his controlling behavior years ago.
Which is exactly what I’m going to try to do now.
“I’m demanding a trade,” I say to Coach Chris the minute he opens the door to his lakefront townhouse for me. He doesn’t look surprised to see me despite the late hour. It’s almost midnight. I had to sneak here on the Red Line wearing an oversized hoodie and ball cap while keeping my head down.
“If only it was that easy,” he says as he gestures for me to follow him inside. “You know he’s not going to let you go.”
“Can I get you some coffee?” Coach Chris’s wife, Michelle, asks, as we step into the kitchen.
I shake my head no. My nerves are so frayed, and even though I’m exhausted, coffee will only make everything worse.
She looks at me with sympathy in her friendly blue eyes. “How about some herbal tea?”
I smile at her. “That actually would be nice.”
Coach clears some papers off their kitchen table and tells me to sit down. I do, then take my ball cap off and run my hands through my tangled and disheveled hair, trying to smooth it into something presentable.
He sits across from me and flips to a blank page on the yellow legal pad in front of him. He taps it three times with his pen. “He’s not going to let you go. Not without a fight, and that fight will end badly for Gavin.”
I rub my hands on my pants, trying to rid them of moisture. “I’m assuming you’ve talked to Coach Matthews in Buffalo.”
Michelle places a mug of mint tea on the table in front of me. The scent is already soothing, and the mint is refreshing enough to keep me clear headed and alert. She places a comforting hand on my shoulder, then sits beside me and opens up her laptop, clearly ready to tackle this problem with us.
I give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” I say. “You were probably looking forward to a day off with your husband after he’s been gone for all this time.”
She shakes her head at me. “I’m a hockey coach’s wife, and I was a player’s wife before that. He and I haven’t had a day off from this sport since our wedding day.”
“And even that doesn’t count,” Coach Chris says. “All my groomsmen were teammates.”
I can’t help but laugh. I know how it is. I’ve seen it happen around me my entire life. When you enter a relationship with a hockey player, you’re entering a relationship with the entire sport.
“But to answer your question,” Coach says. “I have been in touch with Coach Matthews in Buffalo. He’s pissed.”
“How pissed?”
“Well, one of his best players is currently being sidelined in a season where they’re defending the Stanley Cup, so you can imagine.”
“I can.” I frown and take a sip of my tea. “So how do we handle this in a way where everyone gets what they want?”
“The first thing we do is accept that that’s not going to happen.”
I shake my head. “I mean, everyone but my father gets what they want.”
“Again, not going to happen.” Coach taps on his legal pad some more while his wife types away on her laptop.
He pauses his tapping and looks at me. “If I had it my way, I’d work out a trade where we could get Gavin on the Broad Wings.
He’s obviously a great enforcer, best in the league, and he’s an above average forward who can play both the left wing and center.
Plus, the two of you have top-notch chemistry on the ice. ”
“I know,” I say, looking down at the mug trapped between my hands as a smile pulls at my lips. “But there’s no way my father will ever sign Gavin to the Broad Wings. He hated him even before all of this.”
“That’s an understatement,” Coach agrees. “Now, Coach Matthews, on the other hand, would love to bring you on. He and the Blizzards organization have proposed some very interesting trade options that would have any other GM in the league besides your father salivating.”
“Like what?” I ask, getting nervous, even though I love the idea of me being traded to the Blizzards. Not that my father would allow it. “He’s not proposing a straight-up trade, me for Tavish, is he?”
Coach shakes his head. “No. But even if he was, that wouldn’t move the needle.
We’re talking first-round draft picks, and elite prospects, which we’ll need, as without you, kid, the Broad Wings will be thrust into a rebuilding phase that could take years.
Your father kind of screwed us by not claiming any other solid prospects since he drafted you.
As you know, our AHL affiliate is abysmal. ”
He takes a sip of his coffee that looks like it has long gone cold, and I wonder how long he and his wife have been working on this.
“The other thing is, we’ll need to find another team to help broker the deal and retain a portion of your salary for the rest of your contract in exchange for something of value for them as well.
Your contract, while deserved, would put the Blizzards severely over the salary cap. ”
I deflate. I’m not dumb. No one in this league is going to want to do anything that helps Gavin Marshal and the Blizzards become an even stronger team. “What team is even going to do that?”
“Probably none,” Coach says gently.
“So you’re saying I’m screwed until it’s time to renegotiate my contract during free agency next summer.”
“Not necessarily,” Michelle says. She widens her eyes, briefly staring at Coach Chris with intensity.
He subtly nods his head at her. “We’re not ruling anything out yet. But if you want to be on the Blizzards, you’ll need to eventually take a significant pay cut.”
“That’s fine,” I blurt. “I don’t care about the money. I just need to get away from my father.”
He points at me with his pen. “And you need to get with Gavin. The two of you should be playing together. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
I frown again. “What about this Marshal Rule he’s trying to push?”
This time, Coach points his pen at his wife.
She pauses her typing. “That’s where I come in,” she says. I’m reminded that she’s a lawyer and works for one of the top sports talent agencies in the world. “I’ve been in touch with the league and have informed them that implementing such a rule would be discrimination.”
“Why? Because we’re gay?”
“Yes and no,” she says. I look at her, confused. She smiles at me and continues. “It’s not so much that you’re gay that’s saving your hide right now. It’s that there’s no way to implement this rule fairly as the rule could only apply to gay players.”
“I don’t get it,” I say, still not following.
“It’s simple. This isn’t a mixed sex sport.
So there’s no scenario in which two heterosexual players could fall for each other, making it completely discriminatory against its homosexual players by default.
” She sits back in her chair and sips her tea, looking pleased with herself.
Which she should be. What she’s laid out is one hundred percent true and incredibly smart.
I smile. “So the rule is moot.”
“Exactly,” she says. “However, this is still messy.” She looks at me with sympathy again. “You and Gavin can’t play against each other. Maybe a different couple would be able to manage it, but you two can’t. Especially him.”
“So the only way this works is for me and Gavin to end up on the same team.”
“Which”—Coach points his pen at me again—“is why a trade to Buffalo is the best option. But the margins are incredibly slim, and we don’t have that much time to make it work if we can at all. The trade deadline is Wednesday.”
“It’s not impossible, though,” I say as my heart beats excitedly in my chest. I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but I can’t give up either. Not now. Not after Michelle has laid out a way to nullify the Marshal Rule. “Trades go through at the last minute every season.”
“They do,” Coach agrees. “But never one of this magnitude with so many moving parts and contingencies. And we’re still ignoring the fact that your father isn’t going to let you go.”
“Is there any way we can force him?”
“Well…” Michelle looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “What if I told you I’m proposing a different rule to the league?”
“What kind of rule?” I look at her skeptically. Not because I don’t trust her, but because I have no idea what she might be cooking in that brilliant brain of hers.
“The Kennedy Rule,” she says. “One that says family members can’t play for each other to prevent preferential treatment.”
I bite my lip as I take this idea in. “So it would be illegal in the league for me to play for the team my father is managing?”
“Correct,” she says. “And therefore it would force his hand. Either he agrees to trade you, or he quits.”
The relief I feel causes me to slump in my chair and let out a breath. “He won’t quit,” I say. “I can guarantee you that.”
“We know,” she says.
“And he will make it his goal,” Coach says, “to make yours and Gavin’s lives miserable.”
“He’s already doing that,” I say, rubbing my face with my hands.
“Don’t worry.” Michelle pats me on the shoulder.
“We’re going to get ahead of this,” Coach promises.
I nod at him, feeling grateful he’s on my team. “You do realize you’re probably going to lose your job for helping me, right?”
He grins at me with a glint of knowing behind his eyes. “I hear St Louis may be looking for a new coach.”
Then, rising from his seat, he asks me to follow him.
He walks me to the living room and pulls a box that I recognize off the mantel.
I was given one as well, but him presenting Gavin’s to me feels more significant.
Without Gavin by my side in Milan at the medal ceremony, I couldn’t enjoy it.
It still doesn’t feel right now as I stare at Gavin’s in Coach’s hands.
But soon, when I deliver this to Gavin, my alternate captain, my partner, it will feel like the reward it was supposed to be.
He hands it to me. There’s a gold medal just like mine inside.
“Go give this to Gavin, would you? He’s probably looking for it. ”