Page 149 of The Fine Line
“I’ll take it up for you.”
“You sure?” he asks.
“Positive.”
“All right then. I’d appreciate it. Thanks, hon.”
He hands me the paper, and a few minutes and a couple of badge flashes later, I’m standing outside the press box door.
I give it two loud knocks, waiting a beat before opening it—just in case I’m interrupting something.
But the second the door swings open, I realize there’s no way I could interrupt anything.
It’s chaos.
A dozen men in suits all talking at once—some barking at each other, others on frantic phone calls, a few muttering to themselves as they pace or tear through stacks of paper.
It only takes me a second to spot Bryan near the edge of the room, orbiting multiple conversations at once. Even though I’m not really sure why he’s here, given The Storm isn’t broadcasting tonight, I approach and tap his shoulder.
“Bryan?”
He doesn’t react. I tap him again. Then once more. He finally spins around.
“Oh—Caroline. Hi,” he clips, distracted.
“Hi. Sorry to interrupt. I’m just dropping off the final lineup.”
I hold out the sheet. He blinks at it, then drags a hand down his face and nods. “Right. Thank you.”
He takes it, and I hesitate. “Is… everything okay?”
He meets my eyes. “Honestly? No.”
“What happen?—”
“Bryan! Any update on Davis?” someone interrupts.
Bryan checks his phone, then turns. “No. And at this point, even if he was on his way, he wouldn’t make it in time to go on—let alone prep.”
Davis?I blink. “Mick?” I ask aloud.
Bryan nods, turning back to the other man. “He won’t be any help to us.”
Mick and Ray both have the night off since NHN is covering. Why would they be trying to reach either of them?
“Is there something I can do to help?” I ask.
Bryan opens his mouth, but the other man cuts in with a dry laugh. “Unless you can conjure a hockey commentator out of thin air, I don’t think so, honey.”
My shoulders stiffen. “Wait—are you saying you don’t have commentators?”
Bryan sighs. “We have one. Tom Dunn. He does?—”
“The play-by-play,” I finish for him. He’s the narrator. The one calling every pass and shot.
“Exactly. But we’re missing Marc Bouchard. He was flying in from Montreal, but there’s a massive snowstorm. He’s grounded.”
“So you need a color commentator,” I say.
