Page 165 of The Fine Line
I do.
Because I’m not sure what I’ll do if I don’t.
The door clicks shut behind me. I keep my hands in my pockets. I keep every word I’m not ready to say right where it is—buried under my ribs with all the others.
And for the first time in days, I let myself breathe.
NEW MESSAGE:
From:[email protected]
Subject:Titans Broadcast Opportunity
Hi Caroline,
Tom Dunn recently passed along your name, and I just had the chance to watch your commentary during the Storm vs. Detroit game. You brought sharp insight, confidence, and strong on-air presence—especially impressive given the circumstances.
We’ve got an upcoming opening on our broadcast team here at the New York Titans, and based on what I’ve seen, I think you could be a great fit. I’d love the opportunity to connect next time you’re in town. If you’re available after the Storm vs. Titans game in two weeks, I’d like to invite you to join me and a couple of colleagues for a drink to talk more about the role and get to know you a bit better.
Let me know if you’re interested, and we’ll get something on the calendar.
Best,
Dave Mercer
Director of Broadcasting
New York Titans
thirty-nine
CAROLINE
New York, NY, USA
“Back to you, Mick.”
I hold my smile until the red light on the camera clicks off, then exhale, swiping a hand down my skirt and willing myself to relax. The second period has been pure chaos—end-to-end breakaways, blocked shots, and tension thick enough to buzz in my ears.
But it’s not just the game making me antsy.
I’m meeting Dave Mercer afterward.Just drinks,he said. A casual conversation. But casual conversations don’t usually come with an open commentator seat for an NHL franchise on the line.
One thing at a time,I tell myself.
When the announcer calls one minute remaining in the period, I take it as my cue. I begin to make my way toward the Storm’s tunnel, prepping to grab Ronan for his intermissioninterview. I’m mentally running through my list of questions when the crowd suddenly erupts.
I crane my neck to see what caused the commotion—and immediately spot Rhett tearing down the ice, seconds from a one-on-one with the Titans’ goalie.
Even at full speed, it’s obvious the Titan’s defense has given up. Because everyone in this arena knows the same thing: Rhett Sutton doesn’t miss. Not in this situation. There’s a reason he’s always first in the shootout lineup.
And right on cue, he proves it again.
Rhett makes a sharp cut left as he approaches the net, sending the goaltender sprawling, only to stop on a dime and shift right, sliding the puck straight through the goalie’s legs.
The horn blares. The crowd explodes. I cheer before I even realize I’m doing it, clapping as the Storm players catch up and swarm him in celebration.
