Page 42 of Heartless As Puck

“I’ll see if I can get a hold of him. Otherwise, I’ll be there in an hour.”

“See you then.”

We each said goodbye, and Stephen ended the call.

I collected the resistance band again and used it to stretch my other quad, then finished up in the gym and took a shower.

By the time I entered the living area, Jane had already prepared breakfast and was eating on her own at the breakfast bar.

“I just got a call from Stephen Robertson,” I told her, grabbing the eggs and oatmeal from the kitchen counter and dragging them around to join her. “He’s asked me to come into his office at ten.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “What for?”

I shrugged. “No idea.”

“Have you told Gus?”

“Not yet.”

She tapped on the tablet that was positioned in front of her. A moment later, she said, “No answer. I’ll send him a message.”

We shared our meal in a peaceful quiet. Jane finished first and cleaned up after herself, then grabbed my plates when I’d scraped the last of my breakfast out of them and washed those too.

I went to my bedroom and changed into something more professional for my meeting with Stephen. I always found it was better to overdress for these situations than underdress. Team management liked players who dressed sharply and took all aspects of their job seriously.

I tried Gus’s phone but also had no luck. When it was time to go, I backtracked to the living area and found Jane waiting with a bag at her feet and her phone in her hand.

“Still nothing from Gus,” she said, continuing to tap on her phone without looking up. “Which means I’m coming with you. We don’t know what this meeting is about. You might need backup.”

I hesitated. I’d asked Stephen about whether I could bring Gus, but I’d never mentioned Jane. “If he asks to speak privately, I’ll need you to wait outside. Especially since you’re not officially my assistant anymore.”

She nodded. “No problem.” She held up her keys. “I’ll drive?”

“Go for it.”

We drove to the stadium, parked in the half full lot, and made our way inside. A recreational league was using the ice for a social game, and a few friends and family members were clustered around the outside of the rink, but otherwise, the stadium was empty.

Jane and I walked up the stairs together, keeping pace with an ease that came from doing the same thing a hundred times before. The corridor smelled of bleach. It must’ve been cleaned after the game last night.

We passed the team meeting room, where I noticed that a couple of comfortable-looking beanbags had been deposited, and carried on until we reached the manager’s office. A new plaque hadn’t been added to the door yet, and the screws were visible where the previous one had recently been removed.

I knocked and waited for Stephen to invite me in. When he responded, I tried the handle and found it open.

Stephen sat behind his desk, dressed more casually than the last time I’d seen him, although he still had a pair of designer sunglasses perched on top of his head and a chunky wristwatch that probably cost more than five figures.

He glanced up and smiled. “Austin, good morning. Have a seat.” He spotted Jane behind me. “Feel free to come in too. Jane, isn’t it?”

His tone said that it was a question, but the knowing gleam in his eyes said that he already knew the answer.

As we stepped inside, footsteps came down the hall behind us. Coach Dunn sauntered in, his hands in his pockets, and dropped onto a chair near the end of Stephen’s desk.

“Sit.” Stephen gestured at another three chairs lined up against the wall.

I carried two over and positioned them so that we were sitting in a slightly squashed circle, all able to see each other. I sat on one and Jane took the other, immediately opening her bag and pulling out her tablet.

“What’s this about?” I asked, the writhing nerves in my gut getting the better of me.

Stephen took the sunglasses from his head, pulled a cloth from the pocket on the front of his button-down shirt, and started cleaning the lenses. “We heard there was some trouble brewing at Rinkside last night.”