Page 13 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
Morgan
You’re selling our house?
It was my house and I could sell it if I wanted. Maybe I should have told her before I put it on the market, but she’d moved in with them some time ago.
Did I even answer her? I should block her. After all, we’d broken up. She’d moved on. Yet there was something sofinalabout doing so.
Me
If you have anything there, you should move it out.
I entered the New York Ice Training Center. Yesterday, I’d come by on my own out of curiosity. Today I was here to sign some papers, shake some hands, and make abigchange.
The Portland Sasquatches had been good to me. I loved my coaches, my teammates, and the city of Portland. We were the second-ranked team in the PHL. I’d been ready to re-sign with a big contract. I’d been happy.
Then my life blew up.
My agent had been beyond supportive of helping me find a way to quickly and quietly leave the Sasquatches without making enemies. She’d done phenomenal work, considering she was literally in labor right now.
I didn’t want to leave the Sasquatches. But, it was better this way. Not only was New York City across the country, my ex hated it with a passion.
A group of kids carrying hockey sticks waved at me as they filed past. I waved back, my heart breaking a little. I followed the signs for the Knights’ offices.
“You’re the Yeti,” the security guard at the elevator said, as he confirmed my appointment with Bunty Longfellow, the Knights general manager.
“I am.” That had been my hockey nickname in high school. The Sasquatches had found ithilariouswhen they’d discovered it while I was a rookie and it stuck.
His eyes got wide. “Are you…”
I put a finger to my lips. I didn’t want this to get out yet.
He pretended to zip his lips. “Understood.”
I took the elevator up, and it opened into a reception area. A man in a suit waited for me. He was an older alpha, gray in his hair and lines on his face. While Bunty Longfellow had been a good GM for a long time, many had called for his retirement–and for the owner of the Knights to step down–after a debacle last season, involving them trying to illegally fire one of their most popular players.
Bunty extended a hand. “Mr. Brooks, I hope you had a pleasant flight from Portland. I’m honored that you came all the way out here, instead of handling it over the phone and through your agent.”
“I wanted to show you that I’m serious. Which is also why I wanted to sign with you sooner rather than later.” I didn’t plan on going back to Portland other than to handle some business.
“Come into my office.” He ushered me into his large office, and we went through the usual coffee and niceties.
Bunty leaned forward over his big wooden desk. “We’re beyond excited that you want to join the Knights. We could use a defender like you since Elias Royce retired.”
That’s why we’d approached the Knights. They’d be looking for a solid defender to fill the void left by their captain.
“I could use a team just like you. After all, the championship win is where Grif Graf is, right?” I joked, trying to get comfortable in the too-small chair, even though it was clearly meant for large alphas.
He laughed. “Absolutely.”
The Sasquatches had lost the PHL championships two years in a row. First to the Biscayne Bay Hurricanes, the second to the New York Knights. Both times, forward Griffin McGraff had been part of the winning team.
“He’ll be sad that he’s no longer the biggest guy on the Knights,” Bunty chuckled.
Grif Graf was a big guy, but not as tall as me.
We got down to business, going over the contract, which wasincrediblygenerous. I’d expected them to counteroffer and had been prepared to accept. But they hadn’t. They’d even added things, as if I needed enticement.
All I’d asked for was the caveat that while other players could know, I didn’t want me joining the team announced to the press until closer to the start of the season.
