31. Amelia
THIRTY-ONE
AMELIA
MARCH, FOUR SEASONS AGO
I pause the game film I’m watching and nearly fall out of my chair when I notice Jude standing in the doorway of my office.
“What the hell, Jude?” I put a hand over my heart, heaving out a deep breath. “You can’t stand somewhere in complete silence and stare at someone.”
“Sorry.” His mouth twists into a wry grin. “Do you have a minute?”
“If this is about Jeffries kicking ass during those sled pushes in the weight room, I have several minutes.”
“It’s not, but we’ll circle back to that later. I’ve been thinking about tweaking the second line, and he’d make a good addition to the group.” Jude hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Walk with me?”
“Sure.” I pop to my feet and slip on my team jacket. “Are we going to talk about why you’re being secretive?”
“Am I being secretive?”
“After six years with you, I know you’re not a bullshitter.” We pass through the empty locker room and make a left through a door that doesn’t lead to the ice. “If there was a problem, you’d let me know. But right now, you’re not giving me anything to go off of.”
“Must mean there’s not a problem.” He chuckles and taps his team ID on the keypad when we get to an elevator. “How did the defensive pairs drills go?”
“Really well. Anderson fixed his weak wrist—temporarily, at least—and Simmons was showing a lot of speed out there for a guy coming off an injury. He’ll be ready to make his way back to the first line in a week or two tops.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Jude presses the button for the fifth floor and glances at me. “Did you see Wisco hired a new coach for the women’s team?”
“I did.” I prop my sneaker against the metal wall behind me, and the elevator jolts upward. “Barry James is tough, but he’s exactly what they need. Three straight years without a Frozen Four appearance is not the kind of streak you want.”
“I played with him at Michigan back in the day.” Jude rubs his jaw. “Good guy. Real hard-ass. I remember some mornings he’d drag us out of bed at five so we could get a run in before weightlifting or morning skate. Hated him back then. Now that I’m coaching, I understand why he did it.”
“The wisdom that comes with getting old.”
“Speaking of getting older, my daughter has her C-section scheduled for next Tuesday, the same day as our game against Atlanta. Are you good with filling in for me while I’m gone?”
“What?” My breath stutters, and my foot falls to the floor. “Sure. I mean, yes. Yes, I’d be honored, but what about Elliot?” I ask, since he’s second in command.
“Exactly why we’re taking this walk.” He gives me another mysterious smile when we file out of the elevator. “Time will tell.”
I follow him down the hallway that leads to the team’s administrative offices. I don’t know what the hell is going on when we step into a conference room that’s occupied by Shane Ketteringham, CEO of the Goldminers, who sits at the head of an oval table.
“Afternoon, you two.” Shane gestures to the empty seats. “Pick a chair, any chair.”
At thirty-eight, he’s the youngest CEO in the league. I’ve always admired his go-getting attitude and making aggressive roster changes in the name of being competitive. His goal is to win, and he does whatever he needs to in order to make that happen.
“Hey, Shane.” I pick the chair close to the door, confused why we’re here. We didn’t have any meetings on the schedule for today, and I wonder if I should be nervous about this impromptu conversation. “How are you?”
“I’m fantastic. Great call on that play that set up the third-period five-hole goal last night, by the way,” he says. “Jude told me that was all you.”
“Thanks.” I grin and cross my legs. “Detroit’s goalie is notorious for trying to cover too much space in the net. I knew the opportunity would be there, and it was.”
“Because your ability to read the ice is exceptional.” Shane pauses and looks over at Jude.
Jude nods, and I still can’t figure out what’s going on.
“We’ve had a couple of things happen behind the scenes that have needed our attention over the last few days.
Those changes have made us adjust our org chart, which is why we wanted to chat with you today.
Effective immediately, Elliot Putnam is leaving his position as our associate coach, and we want to offer you the job. ”
I swear the world stops spinning. My hand grips the armrest of the chair as I blink at Shane, positive that I heard him wrong.
“What?” I wet my lips, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Are you serious?”
“You told me I’m not a bullshitter.” Jude slides a stack of papers my way across the table. I glance at the legal jargon on the page, and words like contract and salary increase stand out. “We’d never joke about this.”
“Oh my god.” A laugh races out of me as my eyes blur with tears.
The first one falls, and I wipe my cheek before laughing again.
“Oh my god. I’m so… honored would be an understatement.
But what about Elliot?” I somber at the mention of the man I’ve worked alongside for so many seasons. “Is he okay?”
“More than okay.” Shane smiles. “He was offered a head coaching position with Kansas City’s PWHL team.”
“That’s amazing. Way to go, Putt-Putt,” I whisper, and Jude laughs.
“We’re bummed he’s leaving, but he’ll do great things in that role.” Jude drums his fingers on the table. “And so will you in his previous one.”
“I was not expecting this when I got to work today.” My nose stings, and I sniff. “Thank you both for your confidence in me. I’m so grateful for this opportunity. I love the organization, and it’s an honor to continue my career in Denver.”
“You were at the top of our list, Amelia. You were always at the top of our list,” Shane says.
“The press release goes out later this afternoon, and the players are being notified now. Take a look at the contract with your agent, and feel free to reach out if there’s any part you want to discuss further. ”
“What do you need from me in the meantime?” I can’t stop smiling. My heart is in my throat when I trace over my name on the paperwork, all of this very real. “I’m always open for feedback.”
“Not a thing. We’re glad to be part of your growth in this league, and I know the sky is the limit for you.” Shane stands, and Jude and I pop to our feet too. He offers me his hand, and I’m filled with pride as I shake it. “Team Green all the way.”
I hold it together until I reach the elevator.
When the doors close, I let myself cry. My shoulders shake with the release of a weight I’ve carried since I entered the league.
Hard work and manifestation are finally, finally allowing me to take another step closer to my dreams, and I think the sky is the limit for me too.
The night passes in a string of phone calls with Lainey and Sienna—who promised to celebrate with me at breakfast tomorrow morning—and my dad, who cried when I told him the news.
When I finally sit on my couch to decompress, I allow myself to scroll through social media. The Goldminers tagged me on Instagram to share the news, and with a deep breath and a long sip of wine, I dare myself to take a look at the comment section.
@HockeyLover8899
hell yeah! Green is a good fucking coach. Glad she’s sticking around.
@HighLife4me420
She knows her shit. Support this decision 100%.
@MonaJarvis62
she needs to drop her hair care routine because those waves are gorgeous. #womeninsports.
With a smile, I exit out of the app before I stumble on something I don’t want to see.
Setting my glass down, I switch over to my text messages where I find an alarming number of notifications.
Everyone from old teammates back at Wisconsin to friends around the league have reached out, but the one buried under all the others from earlier in the afternoon grabs my attention first.
GE
I have some inside sources that tell me you’re being PROMOTED TO ASSOCIATE COACH?
AMELIA.
That’s fucking baller. Holy shit. Congratulations!
Text me when you get a chance. I want to hear all about it.
I rub my thumb over my bottom lip, grinning wildly.
I want to celebrate this moment with him too, and I hit Grant’s contact info and press my phone to my ear before I have a chance to second-guess what I’m doing.
“Amelia,” Grant says, answering on the first ring. “What a nice surprise.”
“Hi. I saw your text, and it’s been a hectic day. Figured it was probably easier to call, but if you’re busy, I can—”
“I’m not busy at all.” There’s the rustle of sheets on his end of the line. The thump of a book closing. “Tell me everything.”
“I had a conversation with our head coach and the team’s CEO earlier this morning. Elliot, our associate coach, accepted a job with a PWHL team.” A laugh bubbles out of me. I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling. “They offered me his job.”
“Holy shit. Are you freaking out? What’s going through your mind? That is so fucking cool.”
“A lot of things, to be honest. Excited, yeah. This has been a dream of mine since I realized I wanted to make a career out of coaching. I love my role as an assistant coach, but I want more. I want to keep climbing to the top. I want to be a head coach one day, and this is a step in that direction.” I draw my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. “But can I tell you a secret?”
“Amelia.” His soft laugh echoes through the phone. “You can tell me anything.”
“I’m scared,” I say, the truth slipping out without pause. “The pressure I’m facing just amplified, and now there’s a bull’s-eye on my back.”
“I hate to be the one to break this to you, but there’s always going to be a bull’s-eye on your back.
You’re different from everyone else in the league, which makes you an easy target.
But being scared is part of the process.
You’re doing something you haven’t done before while millions of people watch.
Some want you to succeed. An overwhelming majority want to see you fail.
Whether it be because they hate your team.
Because they’re jealous. Because you’re a woman.
” A noise like a growl works its way up his throat. “Goddamn. That’s bullshit, isn’t it?”
“Another secret.” I take a deep breath. “I know I’m damn good at my job, but the tiniest part of me wonders if I can do this. If I’m as good as people are telling me or if I’m just lucky. In the right place at the right time.”
“Hang on. Are you cool with FaceTime?”
My hair is unwashed and in a messy bun. I wiped my makeup off an hour ago in the shower, but I want to see him. I want to know if he’s smiling, so I pull my phone away from my ear and tap the screen, waiting for the call to connect.
“Hi,” I say when Grant’s face fills the screen. Rumpled hair, dark green sheets pulled up to his chin. He has an arm resting behind his head, and he looks cozy in the best possible way. “Am I keeping you awake? It’s almost eleven there.”
“Not at all. And even if I was tired, I’d consider it payback for all my phone calls when I was in Vegas and you were trying to sleep.
” Grant sits up. The sheet slides down his chest, pooling around his waist, and that’s when I realize he’s not wearing a shirt.
Sharp muscles are now on full display, and he looks so different from even a few years ago; broader, filled out shoulders.
The hint of a deeper voice. He’s not some college kid struggling to find his spot in the league.
He’s a man, and I avert my gaze back to his face.
“I need you to know something, Amelia. We’re friends, but I don’t have to lie to you.
Which is why my secret of the day is so important. ”
“I’m afraid to hear it.”
“Don’t be. You’re very good at your job. You’re talented. You know the sport, and you love the sport. People come and go all the time with this job, and if you’re being asked to stay, it’s because you’re doing everything right. And you should be proud of that.”
“I am proud,” I whisper. “I’ve worked hard. I’m as capable as the men in the league, and I deserve this. Just having some intrusive thoughts, you know?”
“I do know, but you don’t need to worry about that.
If they wanted to hire someone else, they would’ve hired someone else.
They chose you for a reason, and it’s because you are the best person to do that job.
” Grant adjusts the angle of his phone, and now I see dark hair trailing down his chest to his athletic shorts.
“Damn. I wish I could be there to celebrate you. We’re off this weekend. It would’ve been perfect.”
“You’d fly across the country to see me?”
“Why not? I celebrate my friends when they get recognized for their hard efforts in their careers. You’re no different.”
“I’m free tomorrow before our game then all day on Saturday. Not that I’m suggesting anything,” I rush to add. “Just, you know, if you found yourself in Denver, I’d be here. And there are a lot of hotels in the area.”
“Would that make you uncomfortable?” Grant’s voice shifts to quiet, curious. “I want to respect your boundaries.”
“You could never make me uncomfortable.” The admission feels like another secret. Something tender, something true. “I want to celebrate with you.”
“Then I’ll be on a flight tomorrow.” His smile is bright and bold. The sun after weeks of rain. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Amelia.”
So many people have told me that today, but from him, it sounds extra special.