“Leon’s young, but he's not stupid. And it would be stupid not to switch to Hazel.”
Cravitz made a disgruntled noise. “That’s not even relevant right now. I’ve had to reschedule a lot of appointments over the last two weeks, and your father is furious that you stood him up…”
“I’m only talking to him once he tells me from whom he received all his detailed information on Devreaux and Fox!”
“…but if you come right at 7 p.m.”
“I can’t make it at 7 p.m.”
Cravitz stopped abruptly. “What? But that’s when the new meeting with Leon’s agent is!”
“Well, I can’t do it,” he stated patiently.
Shocked, Freddie’s eyes widened. “It’s on the calendar!”
Damn. Really? He’d overlooked that. But, over the past few weeks, he and Hazel had found a routine that fully honored their contract — and it started at 7 p.m. every evening they were both in town. That time had even made it into their contract, and the last time Gareth was late, Hazel hadn’t opened the door for him. He couldn’t risk a repeat.
“You…can’t?” Cravitz echoed, perplexed. “But it’s important, it…”
Gareth glanced at his watch: It read 5:30. He was on his way to the hockey players’ common room, hoping to find Blake there. And as soon as he’d forced himself to have the most awkward conversation of his career, he’d head over to Hazel’s. The traffic at that time was terrible, so he’d built in a buffer. “Reschedule the appointment for tomorrow.”
“You’re not free tomorrow! There’s the training camp game.”
“Then give the appointment to Penny.”
Yes, he loved negotiating with the agents, but he hadn’t seen Hazel in four days; talking to her…eh, let’s call it talking, that took priority. Hazel had ignored every one of his texts — which pissed him off. Apparently, he should have taken her commenttalk to him or I won’t talk to youtwo weeks ago more seriously, and there was only one constructive way to vent that anger: In her damn bed. Or on her kitchen table. Or in her shower. He was flexible about that. The bottom line, though, was that he already had plans tonight.
Freddie stared at him, his mouth gaping. “Mr. Clark…are you okay?”
“What?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Well, the last two or three weeks have been…extremely strange! You’ve been late. You’ve canceled or postponed appointments. You’ve finished work on time…”
Yes, that was what happened when you succumbed to pure chaos. Strangely enough though, he had absolutely no problem with it. He received plenty in return, and since he and Hazel had become almost civilized, he’d also saved a lot of time and stress.
“I’m doing great,” he replied calmly, smiling. “And since you’re here, Freddie: What do you think of Blake Ford?”
His assistant blinked several times. “As a person?”
“As a player. Why should I care what kind of person he is?” Gareth asked, irritated.
“Oh. Of course. Um…Blake has incredibly good reflexes and a sharp eye for risky situations, but he lets his emotions influence him too much, which leads to inconsistency when he plays. Sometimes brilliant, but currently, rather abysmally.”
Impressed, Gareth nodded. “Mm hm. You have good insight into the game and the players, Freddie. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Freddie turned as bright red as his hair. “Thank you, Mr. Clark.”
He sighed. Although Gareth had never had a problem being addressed formally, it suddenly seemed odd to him. Perhaps Freddie would have told him his opinion of Blake Ford sooner if Gareth hadn’t deliberately created distance between himself, the players, and the staff. Maybe Hazel was right; maybe he’d be a better owner if people weren’t afraid to tell him what they thought. “Freddie. Call me…Gareth.” He grimaced. “It’s okay. I think you’ve earned it with your good work. Now, could you find my sister and explain to her that she has to deal with Leon’s agent?”
“Sure,” Freddie replied weakly, putting a hand to his forehead as if wondering if he had a fever. Then he shook his head once, turned, and walked off in the opposite direction.
Well, it was better he wasn’t there when Gareth spoke to Blake Ford. Even though he still hoped he wouldn’t run into the goalie…but when he opened the door to the common room, which Penny had created a few months ago to strengthen afamily feeling, the young player was sitting at the table in front of the snack machines playing Candy Crush on his phone.
Fuck.
Gareth really didn’t want to talk to him. Then again, he wanted Hazel to be in a good mood that night. Not to mention that he trusted her opinion. She knew the players better than he did, so…
“Hey, the boss is here!” Dax Temple announced loudly, raising his hand as he and Austin Fox lounged on the couch in front of the giant TV. “Thanks for the Snickers, man.” He gestured toward the snack machines, where Milky Way had indeed been replaced by Snickers again.
