Chapter 3
THREE
AUSTIN
I held Coach Dunn’s gaze, protectiveness surging through me. I didn’t want to antagonize him—especially not after the progress I’d made with him during training—but I couldn’t allow him to upset Jane either.
I drew in a slow breath, grimacing at the familiar smell of damp sweat that emanated from my gear bag. “Jane didn’t talk to Rebecca.”
Dunn’s nostrils flared. “Don’t interfere, Harris.”
I stood my ground. “She isn’t responsible for the leak. She’s worked for me for six months and has never run her mouth to anyone. Furthermore, she’s my employee, not the team’s, so you have no right to question her.”
Really, I should have known this would happen. He’d mentioned speaking to our assistants earlier, but I hadn’t paid that much attention. I suppose I’d expected he’d do it while their player was present.
He glared at me for a long moment, his jaw working, but then his head jerked in a stiff nod. “I’ll take your word for it, but you’d better not let me down.”
“I won’t, sir.”
“Good.” His lips tugged into something that was maybe meant to be a smile but didn’t quite hit the mark. “Sorry for startling you, Jane.”
She ducked her head in acknowledgment but didn’t say anything.
Another wave of frustration ran through me.
When she was comfortable, Jane could be incredibly efficient and reasonably self-confident.
It had taken the better part of four months for her to reach that level of comfort with me, and I didn’t want anyone setting us back.
Coach stalked away.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, gesturing toward the door with my free hand. Part of me wanted to hug her, but I reminded myself that comforting her like that would mean stepping way out of the bounds of our employee-employer relationship. Best not to upset the balance.
She remained quiet until we’d passed through the doors and were crossing the parking lot. “Thank you for standing up for me.”
Her voice was so soft, I could hardly make out the words.
I scoffed. “Of course.”
While it was her job to do whatever I asked within the bounds of our employment agreement, it was my role to ensure she could do that without being harassed—whether that was by other players, team management, or the press.
The lights flashed as she unlocked the car. She opened the trunk and I dumped my bag inside, then I slumped in the back seat while she drove.
“To Gus’s office?” she asked.
“Yeah.” I was curious what approach he’d recommend I take to all the changes in the works. My agent was excellent at what he did. I’d made sure to sign with the best.
As we traveled the short distance to the office building, I rubbed liniment on my ankle.
Drew had knocked me on my ass while we were on the ice, and I’d rolled it enough to twinge.
Hopefully, it’d be fine by tomorrow and wouldn’t cause me any problems at training.
The last thing I needed was to draw more negative attention from Coach Dunn.
Jane parked the Range Rover in the underground parking garage and we took the elevator to the sixth floor.
The receptionist motioned for us to go directly to Gus’s office, and I wound around the cubicles occupied by lower-ranked staff and over to the translucent glass door with “Gus Wu” etched into it.
I knocked and the door opened inward. Gus smiled at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was a well-dressed Chinese-American man, a few inches shorter than me, with a stocky build and a stylish haircut.
“Good afternoon, Austin. Thanks for coming.” He turned to Jane. “Nice to see you, as always. Would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes?”
Jane frowned, and I wondered why. It wasn’t that unusual for her to wait outside while I spoke privately with Gus.
She pointed toward a chair against the wall nearby. “I’ll sit there.”
“Thanks, Jane.” Gus ushered me inside and closed the door.
My eyes were immediately drawn to the massive, framed poster of me that hung on the wall behind his glass-topped desk. I fought the urge not to grimace. It always weirded me out, seeing myself blown up like some kind of celebrity.
I enjoyed my success—however limited it may be by our team’s terrible reputation—but the attention that came with it sometimes made me cringe.
I liked to pretend I didn’t know that some fans compared notes online about who’d taken the best photo of my ass while watching a game.
Surely the hockey itself should be the focus.
I sat on the comfortable leather chair in front of Gus’s desk. “So?”
He rounded the desk, sat, and rested his hands on the glass. “These changes are huge. It’s a massive upheaval for the team. But I think they could be exactly what your career needs.”
I cocked my head. “How so?”
I knew why I thought that, but I was curious if he’d drawn the same conclusions.
Gus arched his eyebrow, silently telling me not to play silly games.
“With the captain and alternate captain roles open, and all new management, this is your chance to impress. If you get on the head coach’s good side, the captaincy could be yours.
I doubt Assistant Coach Willets would stand in the way. ”
“He wouldn’t,” I agreed. Willets and I got on well enough. “I’ve been working on new techniques during the offseason, and my fitness is on point.” I talked him through the plays I’d been practicing, but he silenced me with a sharp wave.
“That’s all well and good, but I’ve been looking into the new team owner and the manager he appointed, and I don’t think they’re searching for the most technically competent player to make captain. They want someone stable.”
I snapped my mouth shut, irritated when a nerve beneath my eye twitched, revealing how little I wanted to hear whatever he said next. I hated the politics that went along with playing a professional sport. Decisions should be made on merit and nothing else.
“I’m stable.” I silently challenged him to disagree. “I’ve been on the team for years, and even when we’ve done poorly, I’ve still had some of the best stats in the league. I’m not some fame-hungry kid who’ll move on as soon as he can.”
I wanted the captaincy, and honestly, I think I deserved it more than most of the players on the team. Nick could give me a run for my money, but no one else had been there as long or performed so consistently well.
Gus pressed his palms together to form a steeple.
“I know, Austin, and I’m sure they do too, but that’s not quite what I meant.
The Chaos has a reputation for being, well…
exactly that. Chaotic. A hot mess. When I say I think they’ll want someone stable, what I mean is that they need to give the younger players someone to look up to. A rock. A calming influence.”
“You don’t think I can be that?” I had to admit, it hurt. I knew I wasn’t the most effusive guy, but I liked to think I did what I could to guide others on the team.
Gus held his hands out, placating. “I know you can, but you have to see this from their point of view. Your contract is ending this season, and you’re single, with no children.
You could up and move. You could decide to retire or seek a contract with another, more successful team.
They have no guarantee that, even if they were to offer you a renewal, you’d stick around.
You need to show them you’re not going anywhere. ”
“Okaaay.” I honestly wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “But Coach Dunn asked me about my opinions of the other players earlier and how I thought the team might best be structured to work together. Surely, he wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t at least considering me for the captaincy?”
“He did?” That gave Gus pause. “That’s great, Austin. A solid start. But I think you need more.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I asked reluctantly, “Like what?”
He looked pained. “Hear me out.”
Uh-oh. Nothing good ever follows that phrase. “Tell me.”
“You could find a girlfriend—a serious girlfriend.”
I stared at him, scarcely able to believe my ears. “What the fuck?”
Gus’s mouth twisted, but he didn’t look away. “The numbers show that players with long-term partners are more likely to be made captain. I can only imagine that’s even more true for teams like yours.”
“No.” As if it needed to be said. “I don’t have time to find a potential girlfriend, much less win her over. My entire focus needs to be on my game. Shouldn’t that be what matters most? That I’m willing to give one hundred percent to the Chaos?”
Not to mention the fact that I had absolutely no desire to be in a relationship, courtesy of my parents.
They’d been toxic, even when I was young.
Dad was consumed by his need to craft me into the best player he possibly could—so he could live his NHL fantasy vicariously—and Mom was too timid to ever stand up for me.
Nothing I’d done had ever been enough for Dad, no matter how hard I worked, and the last thing I wanted was to start dating someone and find out I wasn’t enough for them either.
Cutting him out of my life had been almost impossible, but it had given me time and space to recover. I wasn’t about to make myself vulnerable to anyone else.
“No,” I repeated firmly. “I don’t want a girlfriend, and it wouldn’t be fair to use a woman like that anyway.”
“What about if you had genuine feelings for her?” Gus asked, exasperation creeping into his voice.
“Not even then.” I doubted I was actually capable of feeling much more than mild interest toward someone at such a turbulent time. My focus was on hockey. Anything else would have to take a back seat.
Gus was quiet for an unusual length of time, and his silence made me nervous. Eventually, he sighed and rubbed his temple.
“It doesn’t have to be real.” He glanced over his shoulder at the poster of me, as if reminding himself that I was worth the hassle. “You could pretend to be with someone if they knew the score up front.”
“I don’t understand.” Was he suggesting I magic up a woman out of nowhere and ask her to play along with a sham of a relationship?