“Uh…” I falter.Why is he asking me this?“I don’t have anything locked in yet,” I say, my voice feeling smaller now. “I was considering physical therapy, but… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel quite right.”
Harrison laughs, a smooth, knowing sound that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I get it,” he says casually. “The reason I’m asking is that I passed your info over to my buddy, Duy Quyê`n, over at CAA. We’ve got a potential opportunity for you.”
“Duy Quyê`n?!”I blurt the name out, almost laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. As if I weren’t already on the phone with the Harrison Clarke himself. “The agent?ThatDuy Quyê`n?”
Duy Quyê`n istheagent in the NHL. If you’re under his wing, you’re practically guaranteed to be where you want to be. He represents all the big players, including GU alumnus, Lachlan Hunt.
“Yes, ma’am,” Harrison says.
Ma’am.Harrison Clarke just called mema’am.I nearly pass out. My heart trips over itself, stomach fluttering with adangerous cocktail of embarrassment, disbelief, and pure, giddy awe. I try not to fangirl but the words tumble from my mouth anyway.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I squeak, swiping a bead of sweat from my brow.
“He happens to be a really close buddy of mine,” Harrison continues, skipping over my spiraling in a move I’m grateful for. “I hope you don’t mind, but I shared some of your ideas with him.”
Myideas? Harrison Clarke shared my ideas with Duy Quyê`n? They talked? About me? Together?
“Turns out,” he continues, his voice husky but bright. “Ehlers-Danlos runs in his family, which is why he stepped away from hockey after high school. He really liked your idea, Darcy. We both think it could go somewhere.”
There’s another beat of silence, but this time, I don’t panic. Because I already know how things like this go. How complicated this is. How unrealistic.
“But?” I ask, aware of the intricacies.
A heavy sigh slips through the receiver. “But these things take time. A lot of time. Resources. Experience. Funding.”
My throat hardens, and I force a nod, to myself more than anyone. It was a pipe dream. I knew that.
“Look, Darcy,” he adds, voice softening. “We want to help. Until we can get this rolling, Duy’s offering you a chance to get some experience. There’s an internship for an assistant strength and conditioning coach with the Seattle Axolotyls starting this summer. It’s yours if you want it.”
“Sorry,” I ask, trying to suck in a breath. But each time I do, my chest constricts.“What?”
“Since it’s in the off-season, the pay isn’t great. But it’s a twelve-week contract with an opportunity to turn into a real role, if you stick with it.”
My mind begins to spin, and I collapse onto my bed to steady myself.
The Seattle Axolotyls.
“Take some time to think about it,” he continues. “But they’ll want an answer by the end of May.”
When I speak, my voice sounds like it doesn’t belong to me. “You—why would you do that for me?”
Harrison chuckles warmly. “Because I believe in what you stand for.” Through the receiver, I hear a muffled voice and the soft rustle of shifting papers. “Shit, I gotta go. Duy will be in touch soon, so don’t decline his call!”
Heat crawls up my neck, expanding over my cheeks.
“And you save this number, Darcy,” he adds. “Call me anytime, okay?”
I fumble for words, my brain scrambling to catch up. “Yes—uh,yes.Okay. Okay,thank you so much!”
“You too,” he says, and then the line goes quiet. It’s punctuated with the sound of three beautiful, monotonous beeps. I love those beeps. I needed those beeps.
Because that means what just happened wasreal.
For a minute, I can’t move. I just stare at the screen, blinking. Like maybe if I do it long enough, another call will follow. One telling me that this was all a prank. But the call doesn’t come.
I squeal so loudly that for a moment, I don’t realize it came from my own mouth.
Cleo and Peyton both burst into my room, Peyton’s amber eyes catching mine as she skids to a halt.
