“Mr. Heywood.”
“Go on in. And West, I need you to wait out here.”
“Sure thing.” West moves toward a small reception area, and Bodi and I walk into Mr. Carrier’s large, elegant office.
“Bodi. Jayne. Hello.” He’s an older man, probably in his late sixties. He’s tall and distinguished, with silver hair and bright blue eyes. He motions to two chairs opposite his desk and we sink down.
“So.” He looks at me for a moment but then zeroes in on Bodi. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
“Yes, sir.” Bodi clears his throat and goes back to our accidental meeting at the DDS. How we tried to break things off once we realized the connection to my father. How we found each other again through the dating app. How we fell in love.
“How old are you, Jayne?”
“Twenty-three,” I respond. “And six months away from a master’s degree.”
“Mm hm.” He frowns a little and looks me right in the eye. “There was no sexual assault involved.”
It’s a statement but also a question and I don’t hesitate to respond.
“Is that what he told you? Not even a little. Look, a few years ago, I dated one of his players at Stephens. He cheated on me, generally treated me badly, and Dad got involved. There was a physical altercation between them. They both got arrested and then the charges were dropped. It was messy. But that was fouryears ago. Bodi and I have a completely different relationship. We tried to stay apart but we couldn’t. I don’t know if there are rules about dating your coach’s adult daughter, but if there are, no one told me.”
“There are no rules about that,” he responds with a small smile. “There are, however, boundaries.”
“I tried to talk to him, man to man,” Bodi explains. “He just kept ranting and raving and calling me names.”
“You had some trouble in L.A. too,” he says, cocking his head.
Bodi sighs. “I did. And I spent the summer in therapy working on myself. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stay here but if you’d rather I didn’t, I can accept that.”
“And if I suggest you spend some time in the minors?”
“That’s your decision,” Bodi says, lifting his chin. “But we both know I’m too good for that. I had the second most points on the team before Coach Morrison benched me. And I’ll have to clear waivers first, so you could potentially lose me.”
“You were having a hell of a run,” he muses. “That’s why I was so surprised when Coach told me you were trouble in the locker room, that he was going to make you a healthy scratch for a while to make sure you understood that certain behaviors aren’t acceptable here. Now I see that wasn’t entirely true.” He leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Tell me about your father, Jayne.”
“What about him?” I ask cautiously.
“Were you close before all this started?”
“No. He was always a workaholic, and it got worse after my mother died. Then everything else got worse when he married his current wife. I didn’t realize it at the time but he was always so angry and…I don’t know, I guess controlling is the most accurate description. And when we got to Atlanta it seemed to intensify. Honestly, I was flabbergasted when he hit me.”
“He hit you?” He stares at me. “Are you all right?”
“It was a slap, but it’s still tender.” I drop my gaze. “He’s never done anything like that before, so I knew something was up. Something more than his usual overprotectiveness. Like he snapped.”
Mr. Carrier nods. “I’m sorry that happened, but the truth is, I knew something was going on with him. This team is a dream for me, so I’ve been paying close attention to everything, both on and off the ice. I wasn’t sure how he was spending so much money but I was acutely aware that no one liked him. I could understand the players on the team—that’s normal with a tough coach, and his toughness is why I hired him. But there were so many red flags, I started putting two and two together. And when Remy Knight reached out to me with a recording of him admitting to embezzling money, I figured there was a lot more to this story.”
“Mr. Carrier, please don’t blame Bodi for this mess,” I whisper, suddenly choked up. “Pleasedon’t make me the reason he loses everything he’s worked for. He gave up his NHL dreams when his parents were killed so he could take care of his sister—don’t take it away from him a second time. If you’d rather we don’t date, I’ll?—”
“You absolutely willnotdo whatever it is you were about to say,” Bodi interrupts just as I’m about to burst into tears, shaking his head and squeezing my hand. “If us being together is a dealbreaker, then I’ll ride out my contract somewhere else.” He looks at Mr. Carrier. “Don’t get me wrong—I want to stay here, but not under Coach Morrison, and definitely not if I have to give up the woman I love.”
“It’s not my job to play matchmaker,” Mr. Carrier responds. “All I care about is how you play and what you bring to the team and the locker room. West McGregor and Ashton Knight both speak highly of you. Short-term, that’s enough for me.”
“What about my dad?” I whisper, swiping at my eyes as relief washes over me.
“Your dad has a lot more to worry about than who his daughter is dating. I’m about to put him on administrative leave, pending an investigation and a complete audit by a forensic accountant.”
“Could he go to jail?” I ask quietly.
