“All right, get to that meeting before you’re late. Tucker and I are meeting in my office,” she turns and points down the hall, “right down there to the right, if you want to stop by afterward.”
After saying our goodbyes, I turn toward AJ’s office and her assistant tells me to head on in. I find her sitting at her desk and Patrick sitting across from her next to an empty seat. I wish Patrick wasn’t here yet, because I’d really love to dish about the Bermuda trip with her before we get started. She’s like everyone’s no-nonsense big sister—she’ll spew some wisdomand set you straight without trying to spare your feelings in the process. I can always count on her for completely objective and reliable advice. Then again, should I tell my boss I slept with my stepbrother? Perhaps not.
Patrick turns toward me as I sit down, gives me a brief smile, and says, “All right, first things first, training camp starts for the rookies next week.” I take a notepad out of my bag as he starts listing off his vision for what he’d like to see on the social media front for the rookies, and I take notes.
My mind is already spinning with different ideas, approaches to introducing each player that are more innovative and fun than what he’s asking for. But I’ll need to think about how to best broach my ideas with him, and I don’t want to do it in front of AJ because I know she’ll support me and he’ll capitulate to her. I want him to say yes because my ideas have merit, not because one of my friends says he should do what I’m suggesting.
Once he’s done going over all the rookies, he asks, “Do you know Aidan Renaud?”
“I knowofhim. My dad is his agent, but I’ve never met him. He was out with an injury all last year, right?”
I used to go to all the Rebels games with my dad when I was a kid. But then I was in New York for four years for college, and in Park City for another three years after that. I moved back to Boston with Lauren a couple years ago, but since her husband, Jameson, is also an agent and former player with season tickets, I usually offered to watch her twins for home games so she could go with him. I’ve only been to a handful of games since moving back, and most of them were this past year while Renaud was out with his injury.
“Yeah,” AJ confirms, “his injury was more severe than his original diagnosis of two broken fingers. He ended up having several hand surgeries, and he’s coming back this season. He’s an exceptionally talented player, but he’s volatile as hell on theice and with the media. He needs a whole PR makeover.” She huffs out a laugh.
“I’m going to need a little more info than that,” I say. Patrick launches into a list of all the times Renaud has lost his temper and said the wrong thing to the press, a few times he’s done stupid shit off the ice that still made the team look bad, and the fact that he’s one of the biggest brawlers in the league.
He sounds like an asshole, exactly the type of guy who gives hockey players a bad name. I know that’s the kind of thing AJ hates, so hopefully he gets his shit together.
“This season will be about me working with him on that last part,” AJ says, “and you two figuring out how to make him look better to the public. He’ll be on a short leash this year and is up for a contract renewal at the end of the season. I’d love to have lots of reasons to keep him. He’s got so much talent, and if he could just harness it for good, it would be a no-brainer. Instead, he’s exceptionally good at giving me reasons to trade him.”
I chuckle, thinking about how the same was true of team captain Ronan McCabe, whose animosity toward AJ was legendary until last season. Now, they’re practically married.
“All right. Make him look good. Will do.”
“Here’s his file,” Patrick says, picking up a manila folder that’s sitting on AJ’s desk in front of him. “I’ll need you to put together a media profile on him. He’ll be here this afternoon, so we’re hoping to introduce you to him then and give you some time to interview him about his return to the team. Then Natalie will stop by to shoot some pictures of him at the rink. I’ll need you both to spend some time at training camp next week, too. He’ll be there early to work with the trainers because he’s coming off injured reserve and is getting back into the swing of things.”
Patrick hands me the file, right as AJ says, “I’m so relieved that you’re with us part-time now, Morgan. I know our social media is in good hands.”
“Thanks,” I say, wondering if that means she didn’t feel that way with Tatum running things. I’d been working with and coaching her prior to her medical leave, and things were getting better—but not as quickly as they should have.
I flip open the manila folder and glance down as Patrick explains what information I’ll find in there. But I’m no longer listening.
Every single bit of my focus and effort is being spent on making my lungs work and keeping my expression neutral. Because right here in my hands, staring back at me, is a man with shaggy dark hair, dark brown eyes with flecks of green and amber, and a full beard. But even with all the excess hair, I recognize him immediately.Danny.
Chapter Seventeen
AIDAN
Walking back into the Rebels practice rink is not unlike pulling on an old favorite pair of skates—ones that used to be so comfortable they felt like an extension of your own body, but after not wearing them for so long, they’re stiff and foreign. Everything’s the same, but it’s not.
Life goes on without you.It’s a painful lesson, but a necessary reminder.
McCabe warned me that I’d feel a change in the team dynamics, but I didn’t expect to feel it the moment I walked into our practice facility. It’s not just the way new flags hang over the ice, denoting the Rebels as the conference and division champions last season—it’s like the vibes of the place are different and I can’t quite figure out why.
I take the turn from the upper spectator level around the practice rink and scan my ID card at the reader on the wall next to the set of double doors leading to the hallway that houses most of the Rebels staff offices. One floor down are the training rooms and locker room, and one floor up are the leadership offices. I head down the stairs for my meeting with one of our trainers and our team doctor, but as soon as I exit into the hallway, I see my GM waiting outside the training room door.
AJ is wearing beige slacks with sky-high heels and a cream colored sleeveless top. Her dark hair is slicked back into a low bun. All business, as usual. Try as I might, I still can’t picture her and McCabe together, but maybe it’s because all I can think of when I see her is the way he always grumbled about her on our flights home from games.
I wonder if we’ll still be seatmates like we had been the past few seasons, or if that’s another thing that has changed in my absence? I should have thought to ask him when I saw him last week.
AJ’s head snaps up as she hears me approaching, and she gives me a slight smile and a nod of her head. “Renaud, welcome back. I know you’re about to meet with Jared and Dr. D, but we need to have a quick chat first.” She turns toward one of the smaller conference rooms that are used for one-on-one meetings down here and pushes the door open before gesturing me in.
My stomach twists, wondering how I’ve already done something wrong when I only just stepped into the building a few minutes ago.
“Have a seat.” AJ pulls a chair out for herself, nodding toward the one at the opposite side of the table for me. Once we’re both seated, she rests her elbows on the table, crosses her forearms, and tilts her chin as she assesses me. “At the outset, I want to say that I’m glad you’re recovered and are back to playing this year.”
“Thank you. And I appreciate that you didn’t send me back to the AHL first. I’m ready.”
