Goldie was waiting inside, curled on her bed in the corner, tail lifting when Mara came through the door. Mara sat behind her desk and pressed her palms flat against the surface. Her pulse was elevated. Not from anger. That was the problem.
She picked up her phone and called Astoria. She needed to vent. She needed to hear someone tell her this signing was a mistake, even though she knew Astoria never would.
Astoria answered on the second ring. "How was day one?"
"Exactly as bad as I predicted." Mara pushed back from her desk and stood, pacing the narrow strip between her chair and the window.
"Details."
"She ignored my instructions in her first practice. Went rogue on a drill, scored a highlight goal, and when I benched her she looked at me like I was the one who'd done something wrong. Then I had it out with her and she argued every point like she'd been coaching hockey her entire life instead of playing it for just over a year." Mara's voice was tight and she didn't try to soften it. "She's exactly what I warned you about. Talented beyond question, but arrogant, confrontational, and completely unwilling to submit to a team structure."
Astoria was quiet for a moment. Mara could hear the faint sounds of traffic in the background. "It's her first day, Mara."
"I've coached first days. I know the difference between nerves and defiance. That was defiance."
"What did you do?"
"Benched her, made her wait, had it out with her. I've set up a one-on-one session tonight to work on her weaknesses."
"Good. That's exactly right."
"It shouldn't be necessary. A professional athlete should be able to follow basic instructions." Mara stopped pacing. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
Another pause. "Mara, I hired her because she's exceptional. Not because she's easy. You've coached difficult players before. You've turned them around. That's why I trust you with her."
"This is different."
"How?"
Mara opened her mouth and closed it again. Because the honest answer was complicated and had nothing to do with hockey. Because Lex Landry wasn't just difficult. She was difficult in a way that got under your skin, that made you react in ways you couldn't predict, that turned professional composure into glass. And Mara Ellison did not break.
"She's not just difficult," Mara said carefully. "She's actively resistant. Every coach she's had has failed. What makes you think I'll be different?"
"Because you're you. You don't coach around problems. You coach through them." Astoria's voice was calm, certain. "Nobody else could get through to Lex Landry. That doesn't mean you can't. Be a better coach, Mara. Rise to the challenge."
"That's a lot of faith." Goldie lifted her head from her bed in the corner, ears perked at the shift in Mara's tone.
"I only invest in things I believe in. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
She hung up. Mara stared at her phone.Be a better coach.As if it were that simple. As if the problem were only about hockey. She set the phone down and scrubbed her hands over her face, pressing her fingertips against her closed eyes until white spots floated in the darkness. Goldie padded over and pressed her nose against Mara's knee. Mara reached down and rubbed her ears.
"I need to see Helen," she said to the dog. "Before I do something stupid."
She checked the time. Three forty-five. Helen's office was across town, but Mara had a standing appointment window on Tuesdays that she almost never missed. Ten years of sessions. She grabbed her bag and drove.
Dr. Helen Ward was already seated when Mara walked in. Legs crossed, dark hair streaked with grey, expression warm and impossible to hide from.
"Sit. You look like you've been fighting."
"Close enough." Mara sat. "We have a new player. She's going to be a problem."
She gave Helen the short version. Practice, the confrontation, the call with Astoria. Helen listened without interrupting, then tilted her head.
"You've handled difficult players before. You didn't sound like this."
"Like what?"
"Rattled." Helen's eyes were steady. "In ten years, I can count on one hand the number of times you've mentioned being attracted to someone."
