Page 75 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
“We can do that, after. You did such a good job that you get a lesson from me.” Dean grinned. “No, seriously, you did good. But I think I can help you be better. I’ve been training with fuckingCallahana little this summer at the rink by our cabin.”
“Put me in, Coach.” I’d take any help he wanted to give me.
Dean worked me hard until I play-collapsed onto the ice, letting it cool me down.
“You’re a fucking weirdo.” Dean laughed as I made ice angels.
“Says the goalie,” I laughed back, taking his hand and letting him help me up.
We took off our skates and snuck upstairs to the empty dining room. Slipping into the kitchen, we found the ice cream, and made ourselves some sundaes.
“Do you have an agent?” Dean asked as we sat on the counter and ate ice cream out of little plastic hockey helmets, since we couldn’t find any bowls.
“No. But I’ve been making inquiries and sending my videos. I know I should have one by now. My ex always said I didn’t need one yet. When I did, I’d sign with his, and if people wanted to get a hold of me, they’d talk to my coach.”
I let the sugary goodness explode over my tongue. The ice cream was probably for Squire camp, but there was plenty of it.
“Who are you looking at?” He took a bite.
I told him about the ones I’d followed up with, a couple that had replied, and a few I was interested in. So far no takers, a lot of, “Your stats are great, please tell me you’re still growing.”Yeah, I was twenty-two and a female beta. Five-foot-eight was as good as it was going to get–and I was lucky to be this tall.
Dean got out his phone. “I’m sending you my agent’s contact info. Tonight you’re going to email him that you’re in your third year of the Knights’ goalie development program, you’re in your last year at NYIT, you’ve won two championships, and drop my name. Then add your video and your stats. Thank him and that’s it. No fluff, just the facts. Can you do that?”
“I… I can. Thank you.” Wow. “You’re repped by Stu Thomas at Venture. He’s one of the top agents in hockey.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted an agent like that, because would he have time for me?
“He is, and let me tell you, he saved my ass. When I was outed as an omega back when I was with the Aces, my career wouldn’t have survived like it did without him. Same with Grif, when he was outed last year. Also, Stu was instrumental in helping withall the problems we had last season with Grif’s old agent. An agent like Stu can be the difference between your career tanking and thriving when your past comes back to haunt you,” Dean told me.
I sucked in a breath. How did he know?
“I won’t tell. Were you waiting for Austin to get signed, then you could mate and stay on the same team? I mean, I know that rule is only valid if both have contracts, but it’s only a matter of time for you,” Dean asked quietly.
Oh.That’swhat Dean thought my secret was? The PHL allowed mated alpha and omega players to stay together on the same team. Spouses didn’t get that privilege. Packs only got it if they had a pack contract.
“Much to my ex’s chagrin, I’m not an omega, Dean. Just a beta.” I shrugged. “I’d betallfor a female omega.”
Clearly, that had been Austin’s plan. Also, my past could come back to haunt me at any time. It had once since I’d come to New York–it was only a matter of time before it happened again.
“Grif and I are tall omegas. So is Molly on the Belugas.” His look was skeptical. “Still, email Stu. He probably won’t email or call you back. I have to work on him. He thinks you’re too short.”
“Most teams do.” I laughed. Sure, I’d do it. Maybe he’d pass me on to someone else in the agency.
Dean continued to give me pointers as we ate. We finished our ice cream. No one had found us yet. My phone was quiet, though I had to go to work soon, and should shower.
“Want to play ping-pong? Ping-pong is good for goalies.” Dean hopped off the counter.
“Sure, I have a little time before I have to go to work.” I slid off and rinsed off my helmet bowl. I could always go to work smelly. After all, I was just working in skate rental with Desiree.
Dean was winning when a bunch of the prospects came back up, heading straight for the drinks and snacks.
“I should probably get ready for work,” I told Dean, well aware that Windy was trying to murder me with his eyes. “See you tomorrow.”
I found the others in the main weight room.
“Where did you go?” Clark asked, as he benched some weights with Anders.
“Double D and I were doing goalie shit.” I shrugged. Grif and Jonas were working out, too.
“Stacking pucks?” Anders laughed.
