Page 5 of Glitz & Goals

The younger of the three, the guy closest to my age, lifts his hand in greeting. “Hi, Grady, nice to meet you.” He’s the sort of skinny fit that tells me he’s still watching what he eats. Shaw was one of the top goal scorers in the league during the peak of his career.

This isn’t the first time I’ve met a new team, but itisthe first time that I’ve been so painfully aware that we all come from a similar background, but they got to do all the things I couldn’t. They got to keep playing. As for me, I guess the old saying about “those who can’t do” applies. There’s a reason I’m comparingmyself to them, and I hate how small and insecure I’ve gotten in just a few seconds in their company.

I lift my hand on autopilot. I slap on a grin I don’t feel. “Hey,” I croak. “Happy to be here.”

“Sit down,” Sergio urges. “I’ll be right back.”

Sure, boss, throw me to the wolves. I can handle it.I nod even as my numb feet carry me to one of the empty chairs.

“It’s great to meet you,” Ranger says with an almost disconcerting level of sincerity. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah?” My eyes flick toward Noah, but… nothing. How much has he told them?

“How’d you end up taking this position?” Briggs asks.

“Uh.” I drag my gaze back to him. “You know how it goes—”

“I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

I whip my head back toward the doors just as they slam behind a newcomer. I have yet to meet Dante Giovanetti, but I know him on sight. He looks almost exactly like Sergio, aged up thirty-five, maybe forty years. Unlike the rest of us, he’s wearing a slate-gray suit, which almost perfectly matches his silver hair.

Briggs snorts and directs his next comment to me. “You could’ve refused. Everyone he tried to threaten us with is dead now.”

“Watch it, Sawyer,” Dante growls. He lopes to one end of the long table and drops into his seat.

Briggs ignores me. “For us, however, our threat is very much alive. And well. So well, in fact, I swear Cash looks like he’s preparing to compete in an Ironman.”

Dante’s eye twitches. “What have I told you about bringing him up?”

Briggs finally swivels his chair toward Dante. “I mostly ignore you… since there’s no reason for you to even be here.”

Noah watches their back and forth with a neutral expression, while I can see Ranger fighting to keep a smile from his face. Apparently, this is the normal dynamic.

“Cash?” I blurt without thinking. “Cash Hale?”

“The music star, yeah,” Noah says. “He used to play for the Venom.”

“And now his son, Knight, is on the team,” Ranger adds.

“Right.” I nod as if this is new information. Seriously, didnoneof these guys look me up? We all used to play together.

Dante narrows his eyes at Briggs. “Sergio may be running things, but I’m still the team owner. It’s my name on your paycheck.”

Briggs shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I get direct deposit. No one signs checks anymore, boomer.”

“I can still fire you,” Dante warns.

“And then who would bring back the magic?” Briggs winks and aims finger-guns at… our boss? But Sergio’s our boss. Maybe. I guess I’m not the only one who missed a few memos.

Sergio returns with caterers in tow. The room is filled with the hubbub of people setting up trays of eggs benedict and towers of blueberry muffins, juice, and hot coffee. The players begin to trickle in, and soon, I’m at the center of a maelstrom of introductions, putting names to faces, and listening to life stories.

Eighteen years is a long time. A lifetime. One day I was a rising star in the league, the next I was another washed-up player with a knee held together by surgical thread and regret. Coaching wasn’t the plan, not at first. I spent years grinding it out—analyzing film, breaking down plays, studying the game from a different angle. First as a development coach, then working my way up through the AHL, and finally earning a shot as an assistant in the NHL. It wasn’t glamorous, and it sure as hell wasn’t easy, but hockey was in my blood. If I couldn’t play,I was damn well going to make sure I still had a place in it. And now, at forty-five, I’m walking into an organization that’s trying to chase ghosts and call it magic.

But this part? This part, I can handle. With the kids, the ones who still have their careers ahead of them, I know my role.

And all the while, Noah Abbott falls into easy conversation with other members of the Vegas Venom, oblivious to me. Like I don’t matter to him. Like I never mattered.

Like he never gave the opposing player whose career he detonated another fucking thought.

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