Page 11 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)

Chapter Ten

LUKE

I turn the corner and head down the hallway in the Rebels’ practice facility that will lead me to AJ’s office. It’s late morning and most people’s office doors are open, but everyone appears to be too busy working to notice me pass by.

When I get to the alcove off the hallway where AJ’s assistant, Colleen, normally sits, her desk is empty.

The door to AJ’s office is cracked open, and I glance at my watch to see that I’m still a few minutes early.

I’m about to take a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting area, when my father’s voice carries through the crack in the door.

“...and after that loss? This is why I didn’t want you to bring Luke onto this team. You’ve put me in a really tough position.”

My jaw drops open. What the hell?

Like it generally happens, I didn’t know I was going to be traded to the Rebels until after the deal was done.

I came to practice one day and my general manager in Calgary let me know that I was expected to join the Rebels in Dallas, where they were playing the next night.

I wasn’t even two years into a four-year contract and thought I had been playing well, so the news of the trade was like a sucker punch to the gut.

I’d never expected to play for the Rebels. When I was first drafted, Dad and I talked, and we agreed that it could be seen as a conflict of interest or nepotism, given that our family owns the team. So I was shocked by the news of the trade, but also, kind of happy?

Dad wouldn’t have risked possible negative media attention if he hadn’t believed that I was truly a valuable addition to the team, would he?

That negative attention never came, though.

A few sports pundits commented on it, but nothing stuck.

I settled into the team so easily, and it felt like such a good fit, that it never occurred to me to ask Dad why he’d had the change of heart.

Apparently...he hadn’t. In fact, it sounds like he didn’t want AJ to bring me to the Rebels at all.

I turn, realizing that I need to get out of this alcove before Colleen comes back and finds me eavesdropping, or worse—my dad walks out of that office and knows I overheard him.

Retreating quickly down the hallway, I walk all the way back to the elevators where I stand and give myself a moment. Could I have misunderstood his meaning? Is there any other interpretation?

I knew that my terrible performance in Game 7 would disappoint him.

I just didn’t realize he would take it as proof that I shouldn’t have been brought onto the team in the first place.

Fuck . How can I play for the Rebels when the team’s owner, my own father, doesn’t want me here?

Is this why AJ wanted to meet with me today?

I’m pacing in front of the elevators, trying not to overreact to my dad’s words, and contemplating my next move, when Colleen walks by. “Oh, Luke, are you here for your meeting with AJ?”

“Yep,” I say, giving her the smile I know she’ll expect from me. “I was just...checking my messages first.” I pat my front pocket where my phone is, hoping she’ll think I just put it away.

“All right, c’mon.” She nods toward the hall for me to walk with her.

“So, that new husband of yours treating you right?” I ask as we walk along. “Because if he’s not...”

She laughs and elbows me. “All right, you little flirt.”

“I’m just saying, he better be treating you well.” Do I need to flirt with my GM’s assistant? Hell no. But did all the Hartmann brothers inherit some sort of compulsive need to flirt? Seems we did.

Word has it that Dad used to be like that too, until he met Mom. He’s been devoted to her ever since. They’re actually kind of sickeningly in love. I think that’s why none of my brothers want to settle down. When the bar’s that high, it’s hard to find “the one.”

“He is,” Colleen assures me.

“Okay, well, next time I see him, I’m going to make sure.” I narrow my eyes menacingly, and she bursts out laughing.

Her husband is a 6’4” former boxer, so I’m sure she knows I’m just joking around. “You do that,” she says as we take the turn toward AJ’s office and see my father walking out .

Then Tucker follows on his heels, and I feel like I was sucker punched—again.

I must let out a heavy breath, because Colleen turns and looks at me.

I give her what’s probably a tight smile, then nod at my dad and brother.

We always aim to keep things professional at work, so they treat me the same way they’d treat any other player.

“Hey, Hartmann, thanks for coming in,” AJ says as she steps back, holding the door to her office open and motioning me in. After shutting the door, she tells me to take a seat on the couch.

Like I’m sure most people are, I was pretty surprised when I first walked into AJ’s office.

It’s feminine in a way you wouldn’t expect to find in the office of an NHL general manager with a reputation for being a complete ballbuster.

But that’s the thing about AJ—she defies convention.

If she wants an office where the couch and side chairs sport frilly pillows and the coffee table looks like it came out of a Restoration Hardware photoshoot, she's going to have it. And she’s not going to give a shit about whether you like it or not.

I like that about her, as does most of the team, it seems. Even our surly captain, McCabe, who used to hate her, is now absolutely devoted to her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already ring shopping after only a few weeks of them being together.

“How are you doing?” she asks, once she’s seated in one of the side chairs, her body turned toward where I sit to her right on the couch.

“I’ve been better.”

“I figured. Listen, I’m sorry that I waited a week to talk to you. I just wanted to know where we stood with Colt first,” she says.

Immediately, my mind goes to the worst-case scenario, because if Colt’s going to be fine for next season, she’s probably going to trade me. If he’s not, she’ll probably keep me around so she doesn’t have to bring on two new goalies in the same season.

I don’t know which option is worse: getting to stay because Colt’s career is cut short, or having to go when I’ve found a team that feels like such a good fit?

I was supposed to replace Colt as the first-string goalie when he retires at the end of next season. But after the way I absolutely choked in the most crucial moment of the playoffs, there’s no way she’d think I’m ready to replace one of the best goalies of all time.

I nod. “Understandable.”

In my head, I keep hearing my dad’s voice: This is why I didn’t want you to bring Luke onto this team.

This.

This . . . loss.

The way I fucking froze out there, unable to think of anything but Eva...it’s unpardonable. Even I can’t forgive myself for it, and clearly, my dad can’t either.

“Amazingly”—she shakes her head and smiles—“he’s going to be fine. A couple weeks on crutches, and then a bit of rehab, but he should be fine by the beginning of the season.”

My shoulders sag. “That’s a relief.”

“Right? So, I hear you’re going to be doing some skills sessions with Evan. I’ll ask Colt to sit in on those. I know you guys have a good rapport, and I think he might have some tips for how to handle games like the one you just had.”

“What?” My voice squeaks, sounding like I just inhaled helium.

AJ reacts with her trademark professionalism, but I feel like she’s holding in laughter. “What part of that wasn’t clear?” She speaks slowly, recognizing my stunned expression.

“I–I’m not being traded?”

“You’ve played seventeen games for us. That’s not exactly enough data to know yet whether this is a good fit. But from my perspective, you had sixteen pretty good games, and one terrible one.”

“It wasn’t just a game . It was Game 7 of the finals!” Why am I reminding her of this? Why am I arguing, quite passionately, against myself?

“Yeah, it was pretty awful timing to have a bad game. But our defense fell apart before you even came onto the ice. Then you fell apart. We’ve got work to do to be ready for next season, and I’m going to need you to train harder this summer than you’re probably used to in the off season?—”

“I’m ready.” The words jump out, ignited by the tiny spark of hope that flares to life in my chest. It’s the first time in a week I’ve felt like maybe things will be okay.

I’ll do whatever I need to do. Work harder than I’ve ever worked.Anything she asks.

“Good. And I want you to start talking to a sports psychologist.”

Anything but that.

“You have someone in mind?” I ask.

“Talk to Zach. Charlie says he has someone great. ”

This is new information. Is this why Zach is so fucking chill?

“I’ll look into it.”

She narrows her eyes at me in a way that reminds me she’s a shrewd businesswoman, in addition to knowing more about hockey than just about anyone I’ve ever met. “Make sure you do.”

Well, that’s fucking ominous . I almost say as much, but I press my lips together just in time and give her a nod. “Thanks for this second chance, AJ. It means a lot.”

“It’s not a second chance, Hartmann. You didn’t ruin the first chance...”

I think she means that to be a supportive statement, but the way the sentence trails off makes me feel like she almost added “yet” at the end.

“Let me know when you’ve got that first meeting set up with the sports psychologist. And I’ll have Evan keep me updated on the skills practices.

I think he’s also working with Lennington and Kotzu,” she tells me.

One of them is a goalie for Minnesota, and the other for Dallas, but both are from the Boston area and back for the off-season.

I’ve practiced with them during the summers before, which is how I knew Coach Knight even before I was traded.

Hell, maybe that’s why I was traded? Maybe he recommended me to AJ? It’s nice to think that even if my own father doesn’t want me on this team, both Charlie and Evan do.