“Oh, that’s great.” I slip both hands into the pockets of my hoodie.
“I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
“Planned what… exactly?”
“We could have put out article after article about your recovery ‘till we’re blue in the face, but seeing your performance tonight was worth more than sending your doctor’s papers to the press.”
Renea seems really happy and so that makes me happy. I appreciate all she’s done for me and it’s about time she gets a return on her investment in my life. After all, this is a business and when it comes to me, Renea’s been running at a loss for a long time.
“Just send me a list of the sponsorships and brand deals that you think align with me best. I’ll do as many as I can once I know my schedule for the next few months.”
“Oh Nat.” Renea extends a hand and stops me. “These calls weren’t just from brands. They were from teams. Bigger teams than the Lucky Strikers, that’s for sure.”
I press my lips together.
“What’s with that look?” Renea tilts her head. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I have no interest in other teams, Renea.”
Her jaw drops as if I told her I wanted to play hockey on the moon. “What?”
“Where’s your car?” I ask, trying to move faster so the conversation can come to an end.
Renea’s loping strides pick up. “You and I both know that you’re too good for this team, Nat. We discussed this before you came to Lucky Falls. You’re going to use this town as a platform to show other, better positioned teams that you’re healed and ready to return to where you belong.”
My eyebrows crash together. “I didn’t come here to use the Lucky Strikers. I’m not sure where you got that impression, but I certainly don’t remember that conversation.”
“Well, it wasn’t aconversation. We were pretty desperate at the time and happy to take just anything.” Renea shakes her head. “But even if we didn’t explicitly discuss it, it’s common sense, isn’t it? Playing with them would be a waste. The Lucky Strikers are an inexperienced, small-town team. It’ll take a long time for them to qualify for the league.”
“Not with Chance McLanely on the roster. They have a real shot, Renea.”
“Okay, fine. Say they do. You don’t need to take that difficult journey with them. You’ve already paid your dues. If it wasn’t for the accident, you’d be in the league right now and none of this,” she gestures to the arena, “would matter. There’s no reason for you to claw your way from the bottom a second time.”
I stop in front of Renea’s car and wait for her to unlock it. She grabs her keys from her purse, but she doesn’t open the car and stares at me instead.
“Look, Nat. Tonight was a win for you and it’s normal to be caught up in sentiments. We don’t have to discuss this now, butI think—after a few days of cooling off—you should take a long, hard look at your options. There are better alternatives than staying in Lucky Falls. McLanely did it for love, but I don’t think Riley would keep you here. She seems like the independent type who’d push you to be as great as you can be.”
I want to argue that April is the independent type too—which is something that becomes obviously clear after one hour in her presence.
I also want to tell Renea that Chance staying in Lucky Falls is not a downgrade.
Playing at the highest level is an accomplishment, but once you get there and experience how cut-throat that world is, playing hockey with people you actually care about and enjoy spending time with starts feeling like the real win.
However, I’m still thinking of Riley and the time, so I nod at Renea. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll think about it.”
I give Renea a tight smile, open the car door for her and step back as she reverses out of the lot.
Chapter Forty-Seven
NATHAN
As soon as my agent is gone, I sprint to my truck and take off at a breakneck speed to my house where I grab a few things and ship out.
After what feels like an eternity of driving, I get to the party. Cordelia’s mom is the sponsor who’s funding the Lucky Strikers’ league qualifier run, so I’m not surprised when the GPS directs me to a large mansion.
A live jazz band is playing while waiters are weaving through the living area and outdoor patio with trays of champagne.
Inside is crowded with familiar and unfamiliar faces, but I’m only interested in one person. I spot Riley through the glass patio doors. She’s outside, standing near a telescope, watching stars with Renthrow’s daughter.
