Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Social conduct for hate-free inter-colleague teamwork
Short: SCHIT
Leon’s agent wasn’t happy.”
“He won’t be Leon’s agent much longer, so that’s fine.”
Cravitz cleared his throat as he hurried down the hall beside him. “You can’t know that.”
“Leon’s young, but he's not stupid. And it would be stupid not to switch to Hazel.”
Cravitz made a disgruntled noise. “That’s not even relevant right now. I’ve had to reschedule a lot of appointments over the last two weeks, and your father is furious that you stood him up…”
“I’m only talking to him once he tells me from whom he received all his detailed information on Devreaux and Fox!”
“…but if you come right at 7 p.m.”
“I can’t make it at 7 p.m.”
Cravitz stopped abruptly. “What? But that’s when the new meeting with Leon’s agent is!”
“Well, I can’t do it,” he stated patiently.
Shocked, Freddie’s eyes widened. “It’s on the calendar!”
Damn. Really? He’d overlooked that. But, over the past few weeks, he and Hazel had found a routine that fully honored their contract — and it started at 7 p.m. every evening they were both in town.
That time had even made it into their contract, and the last time Gareth was late, Hazel hadn’t opened the door for him. He couldn’t risk a repeat.
“You…can’t?” Cravitz echoed, perplexed. “But it’s important, it…”
Gareth glanced at his watch: It read 5:30.
He was on his way to the hockey players’ common room, hoping to find Blake there.
And as soon as he’d forced himself to have the most awkward conversation of his career, he’d head over to Hazel’s.
The traffic at that time was terrible, so he’d built in a buffer.
“Reschedule the appointment for tomorrow.”
“You’re not free tomorrow! There’s the training camp game.”
“Then give the appointment to Penny.”
Yes, he loved negotiating with the agents, but he hadn’t seen Hazel in four days; talking to her…
eh, let’s call it talking, that took priority.
Hazel had ignored every one of his texts — which pissed him off.
Apparently, he should have taken her comment talk to him or I won’t talk to you two weeks ago more seriously, and there was only one constructive way to vent that anger: In her damn bed.
Or on her kitchen table. Or in her shower.
He was flexible about that. The bottom line, though, was that he already had plans tonight.
Freddie stared at him, his mouth gaping. “Mr. Clark…are you okay?”
“What?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Well, the last two or three weeks have been…extremely strange! You’ve been late. You’ve canceled or postponed appointments. You’ve finished work on time…”
Yes, that was what happened when you succumbed to pure chaos. Strangely enough though, he had absolutely no problem with it. He received plenty in return, and since he and Hazel had become almost civilized, he’d also saved a lot of time and stress.
“I’m doing great,” he replied calmly, smiling. “And since you’re here, Freddie: What do you think of Blake Ford?”
His assistant blinked several times. “As a person?”
“As a player. Why should I care what kind of person he is?” Gareth asked, irritated.
“Oh. Of course. Um…Blake has incredibly good reflexes and a sharp eye for risky situations, but he lets his emotions influence him too much, which leads to inconsistency when he plays. Sometimes brilliant, but currently, rather abysmally.”
Impressed, Gareth nodded. “Mm hm. You have good insight into the game and the players, Freddie. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Freddie turned as bright red as his hair. “Thank you, Mr. Clark.”
He sighed. Although Gareth had never had a problem being addressed formally, it suddenly seemed odd to him.
Perhaps Freddie would have told him his opinion of Blake Ford sooner if Gareth hadn’t deliberately created distance between himself, the players, and the staff.
Maybe Hazel was right; maybe he’d be a better owner if people weren’t afraid to tell him what they thought.
“Freddie. Call me…Gareth.” He grimaced. “It’s okay.
I think you’ve earned it with your good work.
Now, could you find my sister and explain to her that she has to deal with Leon’s agent? ”
“Sure,” Freddie replied weakly, putting a hand to his forehead as if wondering if he had a fever. Then he shook his head once, turned, and walked off in the opposite direction.
Well, it was better he wasn’t there when Gareth spoke to Blake Ford.
Even though he still hoped he wouldn’t run into the goalie…
but when he opened the door to the common room, which Penny had created a few months ago to strengthen a family feeling, the young player was sitting at the table in front of the snack machines playing Candy Crush on his phone.
Fuck.
Gareth really didn’t want to talk to him. Then again, he wanted Hazel to be in a good mood that night. Not to mention that he trusted her opinion. She knew the players better than he did, so…
“Hey, the boss is here!” Dax Temple announced loudly, raising his hand as he and Austin Fox lounged on the couch in front of the giant TV. “Thanks for the Snickers, man.” He gestured toward the snack machines, where Milky Way had indeed been replaced by Snickers again.
Philistines. The lot of them.
“Yeah, thanks,” Fox said, grinning. “Hazel said you didn’t mean to hurt our feelings. We appreciate that.”
“We’ll forgive you,” Dax said, “if we get an Xbox. Seriously, we’re not kids. What was your sister thinking putting a Wii in here for us, Clark?”
The door behind Gareth opened, and Leon Alvarez stepped in. “Cool, a Wii!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “Is it new? Anyone up for Mario Tennis?”
Fox and Dax chuckled softly, but Blake Ford didn’t react. He hadn’t even raised his head during the conversation.
While three of the Hawks’ star players argued like grown men about whether mini-golf, bowling, or tennis was the more challenging Wii game, he just sank further into his chair and exploded candy.
Gareth sighed. The last time he’d felt this uncomfortable was watching Penny slaughter a rooster on stage. But he hoped this wouldn’t end quite as bloodily.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, sitting opposite Ford.
The goalie glanced up abruptly — and almost dropped his phone when he recognized Gareth. He straightened in his chair. “Hi,” he replied nervously, as if he expected the management could only be sitting here to tell him he’d been traded to deep Canada, which Gareth had considered for a while.
But no. Give him a chance, proceed with compassion and sensitivity…
“What the hell is wrong with you, Ford? We drafted you last year because you were as promising as Moreau was at your age. These days, you’re playing like a drunken hawk with clipped wings and poor eyesight.”
Ford slumped back down in his chair again. “Yeah. Possibly. But…I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t know if you have enough time to get better. If you play poorly in the scrimmage game on Saturday, you’re out,” he stated bluntly. He saw no point in softening the blow. Hazel might have approached the subject more gently, but Hazel was Hazel, and Gareth was too impatient.
Ford’s ears were down around his shoulders. “Yeah, I figured that. The coach isn’t happy.”
“No,” Gareth confirmed, exhaling deeply and leaning forward. “And what about you? Are you happy here? Or do you want to transfer?”
“No.” Blake shook his head vehemently. “I like Los Angeles! I like the team. I want to stay.”
“So why the hell aren’t you doing something about it?”
“I’m just…a little off track right now, okay?”
“Because your girlfriend dumped you,” Gareth concluded.
Ford blushed. “Possibly.”
“Is that the only reason you are playing so badly? Because you’re heartbroken?”
Pink turned to burgundy. “Possibly.”
“Do you think you’ll play better once you get over it?”
“Possibly.”
Gareth raised his eyebrows.
“Definitely!” Ford corrected himself hastily.
“And when will that be?”
“Um…”
“Yeah, see, that’s not good enough for me,” Gareth said sharply. “Ford, I don’t have anything against you. I was one of the people who pushed for you to join us back then. Don’t let some woman ruin that opportunity.”
“She wasn’t simply some woman,” Ford snapped, before opening his mouth in shock when he remembered who was sitting in front of him. “Um…sorry, boss.”
“It’s okay. That’s fair. But if we replace you with another player, you won’t see her again anyway, and you won’t be able to prove to her that she made a mistake.”
“Well…”
“But if you instead become the most successful, the best player in the NHL, then in three years, all she can say is, Oh, yeah, Blake Ford. I used to date him…”
“What if I just want her back? Now, not in three years?” he asked quietly.
Gareth snorted. “You don’t want her back. She dumped you, you…” He trailed off as the door opened and Hazel entered.
His heart skipped a beat when her gaze flew straight to him…and she smiled.
His breath caught in his throat. It was new that she smiled when she saw him.
And he liked it way too much that Hazel’s smile turned into a wide grin when she saw who he was sitting with, and she silently mouthed a wow.
He certainly shouldn’t have found her pretending to faint from surprise at finding him here so amusing.
He rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up.
His gaze automatically slid down her, absorbing every detail, as if his mind was afraid he’d missed something important during the last few days without her.
It was as if his heart needed to reassure itself that she was okay, even though she hadn’t been in touch.
“You were saying?” Ford asked, irritated.
Gareth forced his attention back to the young player, watching out of the corner of his eye as Hazel walked to the couch and leaned toward Leon and Fox.
God, he was such a hypocrite. He knew exactly how the goalie felt – better than he wanted.