Page 11 of His Jersey

Perhaps I haven’t given her enough credit. She’s been listening.

My father adds, “For them, marriage and nights in with family are favored over partying on the town.”

“How do you know that?” I ask, but my glare sharpens as I belatedly realize he might have something to do with this abrupt attempt to coup me from the National Hockey League.

Wiping his mouth, he answers, “Word spreads fast, especially when it pertains to my son.”

I recall Remy calling meson, a first. Maybe he was just trying to lighten the blow of the bad news by endearing me to him. Or my father sees dollars flying out the window if I don’t tie the knot with the duchess—my reputation is at odds with that option, so perhaps he’s attempting to eliminate temptation and my career.

I’d like to punch something right now. But Aston is always on her phone, and the last thing I need for her is to post a video of me getting into a fight with the restaurant’s wall.

My father says, “You have a big opportunity with Bouchelle Luxury Properties.”

I almost don’t want to ask about my father’s involvement with my potential career status change because the truth will strip me down to the reality that everything the man does is abouthimwinning.

Can I blame him? The coin doesn’t fall too far from the money tree because I never lose. Except lately with the Storm.

A plan forms in my mind. If the team managers, Remy, or whoever is trying to oust me, see that I’m the star player and am serious about the game as well as a relationship—like Aston suggested about the Knights—they’ll change their minds and decide to keep their most valuable player.

But right now, I’m out of here.

Without another word, I get up from the table, take Aston’s plate, complete with her untouched meal, and exit the restaurant.

I walk until the ritzy part of town is behind me. I reach a man wearing a raincoat even though it’s a clear night. His gaze is vacant until I sit down on the sidewalk next to him and pass him the plate.

He looks from it to me and back again.

“Go ahead. It’s a bit cold, but the best cut of ribeye in the city. Promise, you’ll enjoy it.”

He digs in while I remain there, sitting in silence, never before looking at the world from this vantage point—what people refer to as rock bottom. I’ve never been poor or wanted anything—other than my mother back.

When the guy moves onto the pile of potatoes, I say, “Sir, Ihave a question. You don’t have to answer, but if any advice comes to mind, I’d appreciate it if you shared.”

He looks at me like he’s not quite sure whether he’s hallucinating from perpetual hunger or I’m nuts.

“If you had to make a life-changing choice between sticking with what you know and venturing into the unknown, what would you do?”

He’s silent for a long moment, then in a hoarse voice, says, “I’d go home if I could. But since that’s not possible, I recommend prayer.”

The memory of saying a blessing over the secret menu meal I shared with Jasmin comes to mind the night we first officially met.

“Thank you,” he says as he polishes off the rest of the food.

“No, thank you, sir.” I start to walk away and then empty my wallet. “Get yourself a hotel for the night. Clean up and first thing in the morning, head over to Daley’s.”

“The fancy restaurant on Freemont Street?”

“If you want it, they’ll have a job waiting for you.” I’ll make a few calls. Ensure that it happens. “Work hard and you’ll be eating steak like that every night.”

The corner of his mouth quivers. “Thank you.”

I shake my head because I don’t know what I’m doing right now—this is well outside my usual wheelhouse. Ordinarily, post-game, I’d be at a club hooking up with a girl. I wouldn’t have had a serious conversation with my coach, suffered through twenty minutes of torture with my father and his child bride, or given a meal and all my pocket money to a homeless guy, but the last week shifted something inside me.

Made me want to live a little closer to what’s true and meaningful. I don’t know what that’ll look like after this weekend, but I’m ready to retreat and recover so I can find out.

So much for going out with a bang.

@THEPUCKPOST

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