Chapter 42
In the morning, there’s a team brunch before we leave for the airport. Darcy and I make sure to eat at the top of the hour, before the hockey players have cleared out the bacon and waffles.
As I chase the last bits of maple syrup around with my fork, Chase winks at me over the rim of his coffee cup. It warms me up inside, even if I left his bed only an hour ago.
“You two are so cute,” Darcy whispers.
“Shush.”
“I very much enjoyed having the room to myself last night so that I could flip aimlessly through Netflix alone,” she chirps. “My only complaint is that I don’t hear enough details from you.”
“You want details? Fine.”
Her blue eyes light up. “My body is ready.”
“Well, Chase and I enjoy the same things together now as we did ten years ago,” I tell her. “We ordered the spinach and artichoke dip with extra pita bread, the fish tacos, and ice cream for dessert.”
She kicks me under the table. “If you’re not going to give me the good details, you can at least give me that book you finished on the flight out here—the one with the sexy werewolves.”
“Fine,” I say, pushing back my chair. “It’s all yours. Let me get it out of my suitcase before I forget.”
We bus our plates and then head into the adjacent luggage room. I find my bag, tilt it onto the floor, and start to unzip it.
The first thing that hits me is a strange scent—earthy and wrong. My hand hovers above the half-open bag, stopping only inches from… What is that thing? It’s black and narrow. Textured. It almost looks like…
The thing moves. And Darcy and I let out shrieks that happen in stereo.
Half a dozen hockey players swivel their heads to look at us.
“Oh my God!” Darcy wheezes. “There’s a… a…”
“Snake,” I say, taking a step backward. “In my bag.”
“No fucking way,” O’Connell says, leaning down. “You’re kidding, right? Because…” Then the snake pokes its head through the opening, and O’Connell makes a panicked squeak, as if all the air has been punched out of his bravado at once.
“Buddy, you okay?” Weber asks.
Then the snake makes a break for it, slithering with shocking speed over Weber’s foot, and all hell breaks loose. The room is suddenly filled with exclamations that range from stunned laughter to outright fear.
The ruckus draws other players and hotel staff into the room, which only increases the chaos. At one point I think I see O’Connell trying to scale Tremaine like a tree, but it all happens so fast.
All I know is that the snake disappears beneath a baseboard heater and that hockey players are loud when there’s a reptile slinking around at their feet.
“SILENCE!” shouts Nolan Sharp from the doorway.
The room falls instantly still.
“Did someone really put a motherfucking snake in Coach Carson’s bag? Or did I hear wrong from about five hundred yards away?”
“Yes, they did,” Darcy says shakily. “Which is just a horrible thing to do to Zoe.”
“And to the snake,” Weber adds. “Dude did not look happy.”
“Enough of this bullshit!” Sharp yells, turning his favorite shade of red. “Which of you dumbasses thinks this is funny?”
Heads swivel, as if the culprit is actually going to reveal himself.
But then I hear a voice say, “I saw him.”
We all turn at once to see a small older man in a porter’s uniform.
“What’s that?” Sharp booms. “Speak up, sir.”
“I saw someone with a cardboard carrier.” The porter sizes the box in the air with his hands. “Funny-shaped thing with air holes. I thought, What’s in that box?”
“Well?” the boss demands. “Don’t keep us in suspense. A hundred bucks if you can point him out now.”
The man frowns. Then he looks around the room, squinting in turn at each hockey player.
I forget to breathe. And he seems to make it all the way around the room without spotting his target.
“Shit,” Darcy whispers.
Suddenly, the man lifts a hand and points. “You! It was you! Different jacket, but I saw you.”
I crank my neck so I can see where he’s pointing, as the room makes a collective gasp.
“Go fuck yourself,” Aiden Sharp says from the corner. “That’s a goddamn lie.”
Then he leaps over someone’s luggage like an Olympic hurdler and runs from the room.
The Legends’ jet is an hour late taking off from Vancouver.
And when we take off, we do so without Nolan Sharp or his son. They were last seen screaming at each other on the sidewalk outside the hotel, with Aiden proclaiming his outraged innocence and Sharp vowing to murder him in cold blood for being a “disgrace of a goddamn son.”
Sadly, Darcy was also kept behind to support her boss through his unscheduled afternoon in Vancouver. And while I fly back without her, she texts me periodic updates.
Darcy: Guess what? Aiden Sharp was dumb enough to keep the pet store receipt in his wallet.
Darcy: Guess what else? Mr. Sharp is mad that the team’s HR department doesn’t work Saturdays, because he wants to cut off Aiden’s salary and benefits “right this fucking minute.”
Zoe: Those slackers.
Darcy: Um… Aiden is also dumb enough to explain to his father what you did to deserve his abuse. Do you want to hear it?
Zoe: Oh please enlighten me.
Darcy: Mostly, he just wanted his buddy to have your job. But you also told Tremaine to try heat instead of ice on his hip, contradicting his authority.
You also turned him down for a date. Oof. He’s really telling on himself now. How is Chase taking this?
Zoe: Lots of cursing. He trusted Aiden, and he’s mad at himself.
Darcy: Same! God. I’m sorry, Zoe. I had no idea Aiden was a shithead.
Zoe: Not your fault!!! We don’t apologize for other people’s bullshit. <- That’s a Chase quote. One of my favorites.
Darcy: I knew I liked that guy.
Less than forty-eight hours later, Mr. Sharp summons me to his office for a formal apology.
I’ve been expecting this, and I dress nicely. Well, nice for a jock like me.
“Don’t sign anything,” Chase says, pacing his living room in a pair of low-slung sweats. “He might want you to promise you won’t sue or press charges against his dickweasel of a son. I just don’t trust Sharp. Or any GM, really. Their whole job is to be ruthless.”
“I’m not dumb enough to sign anything, Hotshot. That’s the one benefit of having once married an agent.”
“Sorry.” He stops pacing. “I’m an idiot. Of course you know what to do.”
I give him a smile and pull on my coat.
“Can I ask you a question?” He moves closer. “You don’t have to answer.”
“Okay?”
He takes both my hands in his. “Why’d you get divorced, anyway? I’ve been curious, but I didn’t want to overstep.”
“Oh.” I actually chuckle. “So many reasons—we were a terrible match. He lacked respect for me, and then there was the cheating…”
“Shit,” Chase whispers. “Sorry to bring it up.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” I shrug. “There were lots of reasons. But the one that matters most? He wasn’t you.” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his chin. “If I’m not back before you go, have a good game tonight. Bess and I will be cheering for you!” We’re sitting in Chase’s comp seats together.
“Text me! Tell me what happens!” he calls after me as I head for the door.
“You’ll be the first to know.”
When I walk into the offices ten minutes later, Darcy’s desk is empty and her computer is switched off. In the middle of a workday. I stop and stare.
“Coach Carson,” comes a stern voice from inside the GM’s office.
“Hello. Sorry. I was just wondering where Darcy was? Is she sick?”
“I gave her the day off.”
“Really?” I squeak.
He sighs. “Yes, really. It’s been a trying time around here. Now close the door and have a seat, Miss Carson. We have some things to discuss.”
“Coach Carson,” I correct him as I take the chair opposite his desk.
“That’s more like it.” He smiles. “And I would like to offer my sincere apologies for the abuse you suffered in your role here with the Legends. I want you to know that I had absolutely no idea. And I am deeply embarrassed by Aiden’s behavior.”
Not bad. “Mr. Sharp, you and I may have our differences, but I know it’s not your style to sneak notes into lockers. If you don’t like someone, you save time and just shout in their face.”
I see a flicker of amusement cross his stony eyes.
“You have such a high opinion of me, Coach Carson. And you probably believe I should broaden my viewpoint and concede that there may be more than one way to get through to the people who work for me. But the reason I yell is so other people don’t have to.
Coach Fairweather never yells, because his players know without question that he is deserving of respect.
And if anyone forgets, even for half a second, there’s always me to do the ranting later. ”
Hmm. “So you’re the screamy cop? And he’s the nice guy?”
“That’s oversimplifying. But sure.”
I can almost see his logic, but that’s not what I’m here to discuss. “Aiden’s behavior has no excuse,” I say calmly. “Can I assume that he won’t be back?”
“You assume correctly,” he says with a grunt, his eyes dipping to the desk blotter.
For a second I feel actually bad for him. He’s going to have some difficult nights wandering around whatever mansion he lives in, wondering where he went wrong as a parent—like my mother probably does, but with a hundred dollars’ worth of single-malt scotch and better lighting.
“The shame of it,” he says quietly, “is that I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked to improve your coaching. Your latest scouting reports were top-notch.”
I feel a glow behind my breastbone when he says this. I can’t help it.
“Even more remarkably, you’ve got the attention of maybe three-quarters of the team, who are eager to show up and work with you. And I’d lay odds that you can lasso the rest of them given a little bit more time.”
It really sounds like a but is coming here, and I brace myself.
“So it’s just a damn shame that you’ve had to deal with these headwinds. The team’s counsel is not unsympathetic, but they wanted me to give you a document to sign, stating that you don’t intend to bring legal action against the team for creating a hostile work environment.”
Here we go.
“But I told them I won’t do that. It’s too ass-covering even for me.”
I blink.
“So there is nothing I need from you at all, except your patience. The HR department is obviously aware of this terrible breach. And should you require counseling or any other remedy from this experience, we are ready to offer it to you.”
It’s funny, but as I listen to him prostrate himself on this issue, it occurs to me that this is just the same baseline bullshit that women get all the time at work—but usually from people who are less afraid of being sued.
“I think I’m doing fine, sir,” I say carefully. “But I’ll let you know if that changes.”
He chuckles. “You don’t scare easy, Zoe. I gotta admit that I didn’t have you figured out like I thought I did.”
My smile is hard to hold back, but I manage. “Interesting, sir. Whatever gave you the impression that I’d scare easily?”
“Well, your petrified face the first day you came to work here.”
Oh. That.
“Anyway, good work. It’s time I gave you this.” He grabs a file folder off his desk and passes it to me. “It’s a contract for next year. A full-time position.”
I play that back in my head, and it still sounds like he offered me a real job. So I take the folder and flip it open. Offer of Employment. Position: Skating Coach and Scout. Hours: 40. Under that is a salary I can be proud of, plus medical, dental, and the company 401(k).
I try not to gasp.
I fail.
“Please consider joining us in spite of all that’s happened,” he says. “I know it might be hard for you to place your trust in the organization at this point. But I believe in you.”
I blink up at him in wonder. Do not cry! “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”
He nods, his brow furrowed. “There’s no need to make your decision right away,” he says. “But I wanted you to have this offer now. And it won’t be rescinded if…” He looks down again. “If you decide to press charges. That’s your decision. Do what you have to do.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “I appreciate that, too.”
I’m so stunned by this development that it takes me a second to realize I’m dismissed. I scoot back in my chair and stand up in a hurry. A real contract! I don’t know whom to tell first. Chase and Darcy will be thrilled.
And, heck, even my mother will be impressed. She thought this job was just another impulse. But it changed my whole life.
“Zoe?” he says as I head for the door.
“Hmm?” I spin around and catch him watching me.
“If you decide not to join us, let me know, okay? I’ll need to make other arrangements.”
“Of course! Happy to.” I leave, practically sailing down the escalators, the folder clutched tightly in my hands. I’m going to read every word of it. Maybe I’ll even frame it.
It’s not until I am trotting down Twenty-First Street toward Chase’s apartment building that I think a little harder about what this means. It’s another data point in the question of where Chase and I will be next year.
And then I remember Sharp’s words in Vancouver. I got a sweet little trick up my sleeve… Dude is definitely coming back.
Holy shit. I think I’m the sweet little trick.
I try to take a deep breath, but there’s an iron band around my lungs. When I play back our meeting in my head, everything looks a little different. Good job, Zoe. How hard you’ve worked, Zoe. I believe in you, Zoe.
Those were words that I sorely needed to hear. That man read me like a book. What if it was all pandering? He probably already knows that Chase and I are a couple. How did Bess put it? Anyone with eyes?
Sharp has very shrewd eyes. And now he’s offering me this job so he can keep Chase under his thumb without busting the salary cap.
I’m such an idiot.
When I finally continue walking, I pass right by Chase’s place and head home to my tiny apartment to cry.