Now that I look closer, Darcy looks tired. And when I’ve stayed late, she’s there about half the time, working in her own office.
“Do you need to hire more analysts?” I ask.
She nods. “What I would really love is to hire one analyst and one co-op student. I like the idea of mentoring and training someone.”
Instead of unpaid internships, many Canadian companies hire university students for a semester.
I think about those beer cups, and how relieved the bartenders were when I told them they needed better ones. How enthusiastically they agreed with me.
“Done,” I say without thinking. “I’ll talk to my dad.”
“You will?”
I will? I guess I will. “Sure. You said it yourselves. I have the owner’s ear. Might as well make good use of it.”
She gives me a surprised but pleased smile. “Thank you, Jordan.”
“Don’t mention it.”
We spend the rest of lunch talking and laughing, and before we head back to the arena, Georgia puts a new meeting invite in our calendars for next month.
CHAPTER 49
JORDAN
“I heardFraser didn’t take the trade news well,” my father says as we wrap up the morning meeting the next day.
A rock drops in my stomach at the memory of yesterday afternoon, telling defenseman Keir Fraser that we were trading him to Los Angeles.
“No,” Tate adds with a tight smile. “He didn’t.”
Keir never showed up to team social events. He barely talked to the guys and didn’t have any friends on the team. I’ve never seen him at the Filthy Flamingo. He was late to practice, and when I watched old tape of him playing years ago, I could see how he’s changed. He doesn’t love the game anymore.
And yet, he told us—me, Tate, Alexei, and Rory—to rot in hell. It doesn’t make sense.
“We need the cap space,” Tate adds.
It’s early March and the trade deadline is next week. We don’t have much more time to make changes.
“Anything else?” my dad asks.
“Nothing on my end.” Tate turns to me, his hair still damp from his post-gym shower, and it’s difficult not to think about waking up next to him. “Jordan?”
We have Luca’s big-check dinner this upcoming weekend at a restaurant downtown. When players sign their big multi-yearcontracts worth millions of dollars, it’s a tradition for them to take the team out for a nice dinner.
Tate’s going to wear a suit. All the guys do. He’s going to look so good.
“Yes. Um.” I straighten my spine and something in my nervous tone makes both my father and Tate look over at me with curiosity. “I was wondering if—I’d like to hire a co-op student. And a permanent hire. For Darcy Andersen and the analyst team. One of the other analysts is on paternity leave, and the workload is a lot for her.” I tug on the ends of my hair before realizing what I’m doing and force my hand down to my lap, interlacing my fingers. “Darcy loves her work, and I don’t want to push her into burnout if we can hire more people.”
My father watches me for a moment. “Tate? What do you think?”
Tate’s studying me, the same way he looked at me when he found me pouring drinks during that game. Like he’s seeing something new. “If Jordan thinks we need to hire more analysts, then let’s hire more analysts.”
Ross nods once. “Fine by me.”
Relief rushes through me and I actually smile at him. “Thank you.”
“On one condition,” he adds. “I would like to have lunch every two weeks.”
