Page 10 of Line Change

“I do have some news.” Ansley sets her fork down.

“What is it, Ans?” Becca asks.

“I love you all,” Ansley says.

Hadley and I exchange glances. “We love you too, Ans. What’s going on?” I ask.

“I love being the rink side reporter for the Storm and getting to travel with the team. It’s been an amazing opportunity,” Ansley says.

“But?” Becca asks.

“I got a job offer, and I’m taking it.”

“That’s awesome.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “What’s the job?”

“Thanks.” She gives me a small smile that almost seems sad. “It’s with the National Hockey Network in New York. One of their hosts is retiring, and I’m taking his spot.”

My stomach bottoms out. She’s leaving? I meet Becca’s eyes across the table, and she looks the way I feel.

“What? You’re breaking up the Four Musketeers?” Hadley blurts out.

I elbow her. “Congrats, Ansley. We’re excited for you. Right?” The last part is directed at Hadley.

“Of course,” Hadley says. “Excited, but also sad.”

“We didn’t realize you were thinking about leaving,” Becca says. “Not that you had an obligation to tell us, but …”

“I know. I wasn’t. Then a friend saw the job posting and sent it over. I applied on a whim.” She pauses, staring down at the table. “I didn’t think I’d even get an interview. I love what I do here for the team, but I feel like I could be doing more. You know?” I nod, even though I don’t know. I wouldn’t trade this job for anything. “Unless I wanted to move behind the scenes, which I don’t, there’s no promotion opportunities here for me. And yeah, eventually one or both of the local broadcast hosts will retire and I can replace one of them, but we all know they’ll both be doing those jobs until they die. I want to live up to my full potential as a female reporter in a male dominated sport and industry. I know I can do more at the national network level than I can here, or at least that’s my hope. It feels like my duty to show other women and young girls what’s possible. Pave the way for the next generation of women sports broadcasters.”

Her duty? That seems like an odd way to put it, but I’m not going to rain on my friend’s parade.

“We’re proud of you and excited for you, but we will miss you,” Becca says.

“What she said,” Hadley says, pointing at Becca.

“Thanks, guys. I’ll be here for the rest of the season and post season.” She fiddles with her fork. “I put in my notice with the front office, but I haven’t told anyone else.”

I lift a brow at her comment and go to ask who she means when Becca speaks.

“We won’t say anything. Right?”

“Right,” I agree.

“Secret’s safe with me.” Hadley mimes zipping her lips and throwing away the key, which gets a chuckle out of Ansley.

“Thank you.”

“When are you going to tell the team?” I ask.

“Soon. I just have to figure out how …” Ansley sighs, tucking one of her curls behind her ear. “So, anyway, what’s new with you?” she asks Becca.

Becca launches into a story about something Hazel, her stepdaughter, did the other night, and the conversation shifts. I peek over at Ansley a few times during the rest of lunch, and every time I do, she’s zoned out, barely touching the rest of her salad. I wonder if there’s more to her moving away than she’s saying. If something else is going on with her, I hope she knows she can talk to one of us.

Apparently this is the year of change, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Chapter five

Sebastian