Page 14 of Grizz

“Safety pins work wonders,” I say.

I head to the treadmills and start with a light jog, more to warm up than to impress.The gym falls into a rhythm—his breathing, the clink of weights, the steady thumping of my feet on the belt.

“So,” I say after a few minutes, slightly breathless but determined to power through.“We need to talk about your upcoming commercial shoot for the league.”

He doesn’t respond right away, too focused on his lift.When he finishes the set, he sits up and reaches for his water bottle.“What about it?”

“You can’t misbehave or try any antics.”

He laughs, a mocking sound that cuts through the air.“Misbehave?What am I, twelve?”

I stop the treadmill and move to the rowing machine, adjusting the settings with more confidence than I feel.“I know how the last shoot went.The one for Forge Hockey equipment.Ring any bells?Langley gave me the debrief.”

A muscle feathers along Grizz’s jawline.“I did nothing wrong.”

“You showed up two hours late,” I say, pulling on the handle and settling into a steady stroke.“When the director asked you to smile for the camera, you told him to go fuck himself.You walked off set when they asked for a second take.”

“The script was garbage.”

“It was thirty seconds of you saying ‘Forge Hockey.Gear up to win.’That’s not exactly Shakespeare.”

He moves to the free weights, selecting two fifty-pound dumbbells.“The director was a prick.”

“The director was doing his job.”I keep rowing, my breathing starting to labor but my voice steady.“You cost the team a seven-figure endorsement deal because you couldn’t be professional for half an hour.”

“They still aired the commercial.”

“They had to use footage from practice because the actual shoot was unusable.”I pause my rowing, meeting his eyes in the mirror.“Do you know how that made Langley look?How it made the team look?”

Grizz starts his biceps curls, the large, bluish veins in his forearms protruding with each rep.“I’m not here to make anyone look good.All that matters is winning.Optics and popularity contests are distractions.It’s plain and simple, always has been.The one thing my dad taught me that never failed… winning solves all problems, and I’m here to win hockey games.The rest is irrelevant.”

“That’s quite a mouthful.But I’m here to make sure you can keep doing that without destroying everything around you.”

The tension in the room ratchets up a notch.We’re both working now, both sweating, both pushing against more than just resistance.

“You’ve been on the job for what, five minutes?You read some files, watched some game tape, and now you’re an expert on Grizz McAvoy?”

I move to the free weights myself, selecting a much more reasonable load, ten pounds each.“I know you’ve been fined three times already this season and we’re only in October.Last year, you were suspended twice.I know your first three PR representatives quit within six months.”

“Maybe they weren’t cut out for the job.”

“Or maybe you made their jobs impossible.”I start my own biceps curls, determined to keep pace with the conversation.“That commercial shoot wasn’t an isolated incident.The training shoe deal that fell through?That was you too.The community outreach event where you told a group of kids that hockey was too violent for kids who acted like ‘pussies’?Also you.”

His movements become more aggressive, the weights clanging together at the top of each rep.“Those kids needed to hear the truth.”

“Those kids needed a role model, not a lecture on toughness from someone who can’t control his own temper.”

He stops mid-rep, setting the weights down harder than necessary.“You want to psychoanalyze me now?Add therapist to your list of qualifications?”

“I don’t need to psychoanalyze you.I need you to show up and do your job without making everyone else’s job harder.It really shouldn’t be that difficult.”

“This is my job,” he says, gesturing around the gym.“I don’t care about the noise.”

I finish my set and face him directly.“The commercial shoot is Thursday.It’s for the league, not a private sponsor.You can’t walk away from this one.You can’t show up late.You can’t tell anyone to go fuck themselves.”

“And if I do?”

“Then you’ll find out exactly how creative Langley can get with disciplinary measures.And that likely means you not being able to help the team win, which it sounds like is the one thing you actuallydocare about.”