Page 1 of Goalie Interference

Chapter 1

Yo

Remy

I crossed my ankles on the porch railing, chair tilted back against the wall. This cottage on a remote Ontario lake was my home for the summer. The only sounds to reach me were the gentle lapping of the water on the shore, the call of birds, an occasional splash of fish feeding. A light breeze rustled the leaves, shifting shadows over the lawn sloping down to the lake in front of me. This area wasn’t developed, no road or hydro lines in place, so the waters were rarely disturbed by motorboats full of noisy people. It was calm and peaceful. I wasn’t sure what day it was, but it didn’t matter. Staring out over the water, I had nothing to do but drink my beer and breathe. I pushed out thoughts of anything else and my whole body relaxed into a zen-like state.

Then my phone rang, ripping through the silence.

I jerked and the chair dropped with a thud. Beast, who’d been gnawing on a rawhide bone next to me, growled. Reluctantly, I reached over to the phone on the table beside me and checked who was calling.

Shit.My agent. I didn’t want to answer. It might be good news, but this far into September it was more likely Benny telling me my career was over. My last NHL team hadn’t renewed my contract, and so far no one had been knocking down Benny’s door looking for a backup goalie.

It rang again while I debated answering. Benny couldn’t fire me if he couldn’t reach me. But he could rip me a new one when he finally tracked me down. I swiped the green button and pressed it to my ear.

“Yo.”

As expected, he didn’t care for that greeting. “What the fuck kind of way is that to answer your phone?” Some agents were suave and sophisticated. Those agents had clients who pulled in the big bucks. I had Benny.

“I thought the marina was calling to tell me my food had arrived.”

“Enough with the bullshit. Caller ID is a thing. Instead, tell me you’ve been keeping in shape.”

“I’ve been keeping in shape,” I echoed back.

“I swear, the day I no longer represent you I’ll be dancing through the office naked.”

That forced a laugh out of me. “I hope someone videos that. Or maybe not.”

“For real, Remy, are you in any kind of playing condition?”

“For real, I am.” I’d had long days here at the cottage, just me and Beast. Swimming and working out hadn’t just filled the time but fed that kernel of hope in my chest that maybe, just maybe, I’d be playing hockey this season. Because otherwise I had no fucking idea what I was going to do when the weather turned cold and I had to leave this place.

“Good. You’ve got a contract.”

For a moment, the porch tilted. Inside, my heart started doing its own dance. Something fast and twisty, with a strongbeat. A contract. At least one more season of playing. One more year to make a mark before I had to give it all up.

I didn’t let that excitement out though. No one knew how desperate I was, not even Benny. As far as anyone in the league knew, I was calm under any kind of pressure. Unflappable. The goalie you could count on not to freak out no matter what the circumstances. Definitely not hanging on to my career out of desperation.

So instead of cheering or offering to send him champagne, I said, “Guess I should start packing up the cottage.”

A long sigh from Benny. “Do that ASAP. Training camp starts in a couple of days and you need to be there. How soon can you be on the move?”

“Tomorrow? That should give me time to get the cottage shut up and drive to the airport in Winnipeg.

“So get your ass in gear. I’ll send you flight info—I’ll book something for tomorrow afternoon. Hire someone to deal with your cabin if necessary, and you’ve got your gear with you, right?”

“Yeah.” It was still in the bags I’d brought it in, stored in the spare room where I’d dumped it in the spring. I’d better check it out.

“Bring it. They’re looking into a place for you to stay, and I’ll send that address through as well.”

“Wait—do they know I have a dog?”

Benny swore. “You still have that rat?”

“If you mean Beast, then yeah.”

Beast growled as if he understood Benny. Rat wasn’t a fair description. He was small, sure, but he had long hair. The best I could describe him was if a dachshund and a yorkie crossed, then the puppy was possessed by a pit bull. At least the bald spots he’d been covered with were filled in.

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