Page 9 of The Sweet Spot

I set down my pizza and massaged my temples. “I don’t want to rush anything. Besides, I don’t remember Ryan expressing any interest in hiring a personal chef.”

“I may have broached it with him again,” Jill said, grabbing another bottle of water. “He seemed receptive.”

Tangi grumbled something unintelligible. “I thought I told you to mind your own business.”

“He and Jeremy were gaming, so I jumped into chat. It doesn’t hurt to keep lines of communication open.”

While they argued, I finished my piece of pizza and thought about Brandon and his offer. At least he was interested in my services, not that we’d discussed them in length. I also had no idea what kind of diet a hockey player needed, although I could find that out easily, and I was sure he’d help with that. I did know people who worked as personal chefs, and they made decent money, but that would mean relocating. That thought struck me. Was moving such a bad thing?

“All right, enough,” I said, making them both stop. “Jill, Ryan hasn’t approached me, so as far as I’m concerned, this issue is dead.” I bit my lip and considered what I was going to say next. “Someone else did approach me, though.”

Jill and Tangi stared at me, both a little confused.

“Who approached you?” Tangi asked.

“Brandon Warde. After your house party, he and I shared an Uber. He left the door open to hiring me, but before you both start making plans,” I said, when Jill opened her mouth to interrupt, “I have no idea what I’d charge or how I would even do this. It would require a move to Vancouver, and from what you’ve both told me, it’s an expensive place to live. I also have no idea what meal plans a hockey player needs. It’s not that easy.”

“I can solve the housing problem,” Tangi said. “You can move into our condo now that Jill is living with Jeremy.”

I’d forgotten about that place. When Tangi had first relocated to Vancouver before getting back together with Ethan, she’d lived in the condo he wasn’t using. And last year, when Jill had taken the PR position with the Kodiaks, she’d moved into the condo after Tangi and Ethan had moved into a house with their growing family. But now that Jill and Jeremy lived together, Ethan’s condo was seemingly available.

“And I can tell you what a personal chef makes. At least a hundred thousand for a professional athlete, and that’s only about seven or eight months of work. Don’t forget, we’ll be negotiating bonuses,” Jill said.

My head was spinning. A hundred thousand, plus bonuses. It was more than I was going to make at the restaurant possibly ever. I was ruminating that over so much that I almost missed the “we” Jill had said.

“Sorry,we?”

“Brandon Warde is not going to get you for nothing. I am prepared to negotiate on your behalf.”

“Brandon would be more than fair,” Tangi said, and she’d know. She’d worked with him for months on rehabbing his torn ACL.

“Whatever the case, you have a place to live, and you have a client, maybe two if Ryan can get his act together. At least tell me you’ll think about it.”

Yes, I was definitely going to think about it.

Chapter Six

Brandon

Being back home for a week had its pros and cons. I enjoyed spending time with my little brother, but it got combative pretty fast with my parents. As usual, Dad was harping on the team, why it had taken me so long to become captain, and why Coach Anthony didn’t demand that certain players be traded. He then rattled on about the neighbors refusing to trim their trees and that the neighborhood had standards, and the Johnsons weren’t meeting them. I had no idea how Mom tolerated him, but then again, she was a lot like him. She hadn’t always been that way, but he’d likely worn her down over the years, sucked her into his dark side, a place she went to willingly.

How many times had Brooke and I come home from school terrified of what the day would bring? I couldn’t remember a time when either of my parents told us we’d done a good job or that they were proud of us. I took the brunt of the abuse because I don’t think Dad liked laying a hand on a girl or woman because I’d never seen him touch Mom or Brooke. Thatdidn’t mean he stopped dishing out verbal abuse or that Mom didn’t lose it with Brooke and slap her around.

As the youngest by a lot, Bailey got more of a pass, but still, it was no picnic for him when Brooke went out East for school, and I took off to Ontario for Juniors. At least by then, they’d mellowed out a bit. Instead of throwing fists, Dad was throwing insults. I don’t know if that was better, but it seemed to be, although I’d been subject to that, too.

I just had to think back to my peewee hockey days and how Dad drove every single one of my coaches crazy, to the point that a few threatened to ban him from the rink. Playing out East for Juniors was far enough away that Dad wouldn’t come out, so the plan had succeeded.

And then I thought of my time with Tangi when she’d been my physiotherapist as I rehabbed my bum knee. She’d had a way of presenting to me in the nicest way possible—without knowing Dad—that I was just like him. I expected way too much from my teammates to the point they would ban me from the rink if they could. The only thing I never did or even considered was raising a hand to any of them, not that they wouldn’t fight back or kick the shit out of me.

It had taken time and self-awareness to realize that I couldn’t expect my teammates to meet my expectations. More importantly, I had to let shit go when we had a bad game. I couldn’t blame anyone or pick away at them until they saw my way of doing things. And when Jeremy Vaughn had been stupid enough to sleep around with a teammate’s wife, I had my chance to prove I wasn’t an overbearing asshole when Coach Anthony stripped the captaincy from Vaughn and named me co-captain of the team with Ethan. The whole year had been a struggle not to demand more or too much from my teammates. With Ethan Grant as my co-captain and the “niceguy” on the team, we were the perfect balance of good cop-bad cop, except that I’d shown my teammates I wasn’t the bad cop. Well, maybe an ornery one at times because I couldn’t let them slide all the time.

So getting away from home after visiting for less than a week seemed like the smart thing to do. It was too early to go back to Vancouver, so I spent a few weeks in Sudbury, the town I’d played Juniors in. I had friends there and, of course, the family I’d stayed with while I was in Juniors. The Hewsons were amazing people, and their two sons had been fun hanging out with, even though they were a few years younger. Now they’d both gotten married and Harris, the older Hewson, was about to start a family. Where had all the time gone by? I’d always assumed that I’d be married by now, maybe even with a kid or two, but it had never happened. Other than Tangi, I’d never met a woman I wanted to know and spend time with enough to want that.

By the time I got back to Vancouver with training camp less than two weeks away, I didn’t know how I felt about life. I was hurtling toward thirty, I was single, and the best years of my career had likely passed me by. And I was going to an empty apartment. I still hadn’t put down roots in Vancouver because I was living the bachelor life. I didn’t need to have a house, and I hadn’t pulled the trigger and bought a downtown condo like most of the guys. I’d left myself unattached in more ways than one.

Imagine my surprise early one afternoon while I was trying to decide whether to go for a run or a workout when my phone rang, and Wolseley’s name popped up on my screen. I’d all but forgotten about her, assuming that she hadn’t been interested in the job. As far as I could tell, Ryan hadn’t hired her either.

“Hello, Wolseley,” I said.