Page 2 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance (Midlife Meet Cute #6)

Zach

“Can’t we do any better?” Appetite gone, I push my plate away and shift in the unforgiving restaurant chair again, relieving the ache radiating from my knee—the gift left over from a career-ending hockey injury that keeps on giving.

After ten years of paying my dues in broadcasting, I thought I’d be a sports analyst for ESPN by now. That was my goal after I left professional hockey, and working in Connecticut would put me closer to my niece, who’s a freshman in college.

Laney was the five-year-old curveball life threw me early in my NHL career. I promised my sister on her deathbed that no matter where hockey took me, her daughter would be my priority, and I intend to keep that promise even if she’s a young adult now.

“This is a great offer, Zach. The ECHL just extended its media partnership with SportsCentral. Last season, they delivered coverage to over four million fans. Think of it as a launching point.” Chase shoves a fork full of salad into his mouth.

“I thought my JP was supposed to be my launching point.” I give him a pointed yet somewhat pained look.

Chase has been with me since my days as a hockey player. Over the years, our business relationship has grown into a friendship, but right now, I think I’d rather hear from my friend than my agent.

“You really think this is a good move from my current gig?” I’ve enjoyed my time at JP Entertainment & News, doing sports highlights.

But I wanted something to sink my teeth into and use my data skills.

A bigger challenge with a matching payoff.

And I don’t just mean financial. I’ve managed my investments well enough to choose a job I love over one that I need, even with Laney’s college tuition.

“Yes. They want you, Zach. Big time. They’re giving you everything you wanted in your contract without arguing. It’s one of the fairest deals I’ve ever negotiated for you.”

“All right. So what’s the plan? When and where do I start?”

“An ECHL team based in Sarabella, Florida.”

I fiddle with the butter knife, turning it over again and again.

If he says it’s the Florida Sun Kings, I may have to rethink this deal.

The last thing I want to do is to analyze and regurgitate the sordid details of what went down with the team and its coach last year.

The press did an exemplary job of that. No point rehashing what’s already out there.

Besides, the scandal surrounding that team alone will create a barrier that may prove insurmountable—empty seats won’t pay the players and keep the lights on.

If the new owner can’t turn things around with the fans, which would take a miracle at this point, the Sun Kings could lose their kingdom for good.

“They’re assigning you as lead analyst, and right now, the Florida Sun Kings are hot news.”

And there it is. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Mentally, I’ve already left JP, so I don’t see myself staying put. Might as well accept my fate. “Fine. Give me the details.”

Chase hurriedly chews his food and swallows. “Fantastic!”

The guy lives for these kinds of contracts. Who am I to take his fun away?

“SportsCentral wants to do a profile on the new owner because she’s kind of known in the industry.” Chase clears his throat. “Remember that old coach of yours? Sam Piedmont?”

The coach who had the biggest impact on my life? No way could I forget him. But that was a lifetime ago. And I certainly never forgot his daughter.

“Yeah. I remember Sam. I heard he passed away last year.”

“Yeah, that was a sad day. His daughter, Rebecca, just recently bought the team.”

I’m not surprised. Becks always said she’d own a team one day, but I brushed it off as a young girl’s daydream. But she had fire. I’ll give her that much.

The last time I saw Rebecca was shortly before I moved to Canada to play on an AHL affiliate team, which then led to making my NHL debut. Over the years, her name came up on occasion, but our paths never crossed again.

How did I miss hearing Rebecca bought a hockey team?

“Yeah, I remember her.” Because she never fully left my thoughts.

Chase appears lost in thought for a moment, then leans forward, his voice lowered. “Isn’t she the one you—”

“Just leave it, okay?” I grind out my words.

Chuckling softly, he sits back in his seat. “Guess that answers my question. I’ll send over the contract later today so you can look it over before you sign. Sound good?”

I nod. “Thanks. I appreciate you putting this together.”

“No problem.” He hesitates, his gaze bouncing between his food and me as if he’s trying to figure out how to say something. “You know what they say about old flames.”

“Nope. And I don’t want to know.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine. Message received. But man, I wish I could be there when you see her again.”

Laney’s name scrolls across the top of my phone screen as I’m about to get into my sedan. “Hey, peanut.”

“How’d your meeting go?” Background noises of a grinder and someone placing a coffee order filter in through the connection.

“Hello to you, too. Are you at work?” A large truck drives by, so I plug my free ear to hear better.

“Yeah, I don’t have much time. So, how’d it go?”

I really don’t want to break the news to her at work. “Call me when you get home, and I’ll fill you in.”

She sighs. “You didn’t get it, did you?”

Historically, the kid tended to perceive things ahead of most. And still does, it seems. “No, but I did get an offer.”

“Where?”

“Sarabella, Florida.”

“Sweet! I can come visit and hang out on the beach.”

“You’re not upset?”

Laney has always had a knack for surprising me.

One of my favorites is still the morning I woke up to a smoke alarm going off.

At seven, Laney took it upon herself to make her uncle pancakes for his birthday.

The first round hit the garbage, along with the pan. But her second batch was pretty tasty.

“No, are you?”

“Kind of. I wanted to be closer to you.”

“I told you, there’s no point. I have no intentions of staying here after I graduate. California is my end game.”

I let out a long exhale. “Well, good. I was afraid you’d be upset.”

“Nah. I’m good. And it’s not like Connecticut is that far away.”

“Far enough.”

“Closer than Cali. When do you go?”

“Right away. Already have an assignment. Guess I’ll be apartment hunting while I’m there, too.”

“Find a place near the beach.” She giggles. Her mother always loved the beach, too.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Gotta go, Uncle Zach. Send me pictures!”

“Will do, peanut.”

The connection ends, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And trepidations about seeing Rebecca again.

Of all the interviews I’ve done over the years, this may be my most challenging yet.