Page 99 of Dancing in the Rain

Drew gave him a skeptical look.

“That’s where our counseling comes in.”

“Counseling?” Drew wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Are you talking about a shrink?”

Jack laughed. “We have a sport psychologist who works with us. Also a woman who’s a career counselor. We work as a team, trying to find out what your interests and abilities are.”

Drew sucked in a breath and let it out. “I don’t know about this.”

“Look, we’ve seen that guys who retire because theyhaveto, not because theywantto, are a lot more resistant to the idea and more resistant to help. They sit around waiting for someone to come knocking on their door. You’ve probably already realized that isn’t going to happen. You’re going to have to put yourself out there, and that’s not easy. We can help.”

The server arrived with their lunches.

“I’m sure when you were playing you were put in lots of situations where you had to adapt. I got put on the penalty kill even though I wasn’t the best defender. Guys get put on the power play even though they aren’t high scorers. It’s probably happened to you and you’ve made it work or you wouldn’t have had the success you did. That’s an important skill in life and in any workplace. So are things like teamwork, work ethic, and accountability.”

Drew picked up his thick sandwich. “Yeah.”

“I get it,” Jack continued. “You’ve been doing one thing your whole life. Deep down inside you’re terrified that you don’t know how to do anything other than play hockey.”

Drew’s insides tightened even more and he wasn’t sure he wanted that sandwich after all.

“I was there,” Jack said. “And I can tell you from experience that’s not the case. Look at Dougie. We helped him figure out what he was interested in, the training he needed to get, and some job search skills.”

“Fuck,” Drew muttered. “The last thing I want to do is sit in a goddamn office all day.”

“No one’s saying you do. There are all kinds of options. What’s one thing you’re really good at?”

“Scoring goals.”

Jack narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he chewed his sandwich. “Okay. That’s something to talk about. What else? What’s something outside of hockey that you really enjoy?”

“Golf. Hey, I’ll become a pro golfer.”

Jack laughed.

“I went to Paterson House the other day,” Drew said more seriously. “It’s still hockey…but it was a lot of fun working with the kids. I ran a hockey camp for kids every summer back home. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed that.”

Drew looked away, chewing his sandwich. And his gaze fell on Peyton walking into the restaurant. His heart gave a bump in his chest at seeing her, a surge of pleasure then confusion about why she was there.

She looked amazing, as always…blond hair gleaming in those tousled waves, dressed in a figure-hugging sweater dress and high-heeled boots. She beamed a smile…but not at him. He watched her cross the dining room and throw her arms around another man.

—

Peyton had agreed to meet Jax at the Village Yard, an upscale restaurant on South Michigan near the office tower that still housed Campbell and Partners. They’d gone there for lunch a number of times when they worked together and it had also been a nice place to take clients. He was already seated when she arrived and he waved at her across the dining room. She was glad she’d dressed up a little, with all these businesspeople there having lunch.

Jax stood and opened his arms for a hug. “Hi, Peyton.”

“Hey, you.” She hugged him back. Jax was an attractive guy, a little over six feet tall, lean and fit. He wore his brown hair a bit long and shaggy, and his dark-framed glasses gave him a hipster look. She knew he was super smart and funny, but even though she liked him a lot she’d never been attracted to him in any way.

She slid into the chair opposite him at the small square table covered with a white cloth, undoing her coat and draping it over the back of the chair. “Thanks for suggesting this place. I miss it.”

“I’m sure there’s no shortage of great restaurants in New York.”

“No, of course not. But I miss Chicago.”

“Do you?” He tipped his head.

“I do.” She sighed. “Not sure how much longer I’ll be here.” She picked up her menu. “Hmmm. Hard to resist the fish and chips here.” They were made with a Guinness batter. “Though I should have a salad.”

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