Page 68 of Delay of Game
“Fine,” I groaned, standing up and stalking over to the rest of our dinner party.
“Rob Grant!” A businessman wearing a red and gold tie stumbled over to me, reeking of whiskey. “Can I get an autograph? How about I buy you a drink?”
“No,” I answered gruffly. “I need these two. Now.”
Lakeland’s head swung in my direction, but Trent continued his conversation until I grabbed the back of his shirt, muscling my way past red and gold tie before he asked another stupid question.
“We were heading that way.” Trent struggled against my grip. I let him go at the table.
“You were going to leave me with Fieste until dessert. You guys are the worst.”
“It’s nice to know you care, Rob.” Lakeland laughed as he took my seat.
“I care about eating dinner and getting home.” I swiped my water from in front of him and took the last remaining seat next to Fieste.
“So, Ethan,” Diego said, opening his menu. “You get to fund the first captain’s dinner in the history of the Breakers. This is history in the making.”
“I’m just happy you’re letting me sit at the same table as you.” Fieste grinned.
“Wait, can we make him sit at the bar?” I asked, drawing a frown from Noa.
“So, what’s the plan, old man?”
I glowered at Lakeland. “Call me that again and I’m laying you out next practice. I don’t even care if Simmons benches me for it.”
“Yeah, you gotta treat your elders with respect,” Trent laughed. “Mr. Grant, what’s your plan to turn this team around?”
Fucking kids.
“Teamwork shit. I don’t know. Dinner. Painting. Axe throwing.” I set down the menu, searching for our server. “That’s the part you’re supposed to come up with. I arranged dinner to make it happen.”
“You think we should trust everyone with an axe right now?” Diego raised an eyebrow.
“That’s exactly what I told Astrid,” I grumbled as I waved down the first person I spotted in a black button-down shirt and a silver carafe of water. “We need booze. Now.”
The kid scurried away.
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Trent said.
“I sure as shit don’t plan on spending the next hour with you without a stiff drink.” I’d already picked a whiskey flight that didn’t list a price. Something comfortably in the hundreds of dollars range based on the rest of the menu.
“No, not drinks. Team building. Spending some time where we’re not in direct competition with each other.” Diego raised an eyebrow and shrugged at Noa, who nodded.
“Like the pre-season barbecue?” Trent asked.
Diego shook his head. “Coach Mack’s party is next weekend. We’ve got to come up with something different. Something that actually brings us together as a team. Not just in the same location.”
“How about a ropes course?” Fieste interjected.
I shot him a warning look.
Noa smiled. “A ropes course? Do you think management would allow it?”
Fieste shrugged and pulled out his phone. “I did one with my team back in Alabama. The coaching staff didn’t have a problem with it. Most of the course was just simple team-building activities. Only the last bit was up in the air, and we were tied off.”
“They let me rappel in Puerto Rico with Frankie two seasons ago,” Trent said as the server came back with our drinks.
“And what if we break up the sections and everyone contributes something?” Lakeland said, taking a sip of his drink.
