Page 112 of Fair Play
Rome
It’s beenan eventful couple of weeks.
Between the Phantoms winning the Stanley Cup and Billie graduating from college, there’s been a lot to celebrate. A group of us brought the Cup to her graduation, and it turned into an all-night party, which is crazy considering we partied all night the night before too.
The best part for me was seeing how happy Billie was—because Bodi and I are doing our best to play nice as we get to know each other. Billie’s staying in my room now, and while Bodi doesn’t love it, he’s getting used to it.
Honestly, we’ve all been too busy to worry about much of anything but the championship series and Billie’s graduation.
Today, however, that’s all over and I’ve been summoned back to Ms. Barrowman’s office. I’m nervous, but Billie’s with me for moral support. Her plan was to wait in the lobby but as soon as Ms. Barrowman saw her, she invited her to join us.
“I just came because we have plans afterwards,” Billie lies with an engaging smile. “I truly didn’t plan to intrude.” That’s at least partly true.
“It’s more than fine.” Ms. Barrowman leans back in her chair. She’s behind her desk and we’re sitting in chairs on the other side of it. “What I have to discuss with Rome probably involves you, so it’s good that you’re here.”
“Are you cutting me loose?” I ask bluntly.
Ms. Barrowman’s gaze is inscrutable. “I guess that’s up to you,” she says after a moment. “A few weeks ago, you sat here and told me you don’t want to live in L.A. and that I should trade you. Is that still the case? Because you had a hell of a playoff run. Detroit is interested. I think Tampa is too. Do either of those sound good to you?”
“Ew, no.” Billie responds before I can and immediately claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbles.
I chuckle, reaching for her hand. “It’s okay. That’s pretty much how I feel too. I don’t want to go anywhere, Ms. B. I don’t love the traffic here. Smog sucks, and real estate is fucking ridiculous. But this is where my girl has to be for the next year so she can finish her master’s degree. It’s also?—”
“Rome.” Billie cuts me off, giving me a warning look. “I don’tneedto finish my master’s if?—”
“Yes, you do.” I glare right back. “You’re halfway done—why would you stop now?”
“Because I go where you go. Period. Even if it’s somewhere…we won’t love.”
I lean over and lightly kiss her.
“Are you two done?” Ms. Barrowman asks dryly.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “As I was saying, it’s also where my family is. And where Billie might open her own restaurant in a couple of years. Like it or not, this is home, and if there’s any room on the roster for me, I’d like to retire here.”
“You showed a lot of growth, strength, and maturity during the playoffs. Frankly, your altercation with Bodi, and the subsequent conversation the three of us had, showed me who you really are. Which is exactly the type of person I want in my locker room. Someone who stands up for himself and for what’s right but also knows when to put the needs of others before his own.”
Billie and I exchange a quick glance.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. No one’s ever said anything like that to me and I’m deeply grateful to hear it.
“Lucky for you, I was planning to offer you a contract,” she continues, handing me a large envelope. “But I wanted to talk to you first. Two years, Rome. Two million the first year, and one million for year two. If you’re sure you can stand the smog and the traffic.”
“Yes!” Billie squeaks, before clapping her hand over her mouth again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I may be a little wound up today.”
Ms. Barrowman just laughs. “Actually, it’s kind of refreshing. It’s rare for anyone to bethatexcited when I’m negotiating contracts. I should bring you in for all of them, see how the guys react when you say ‘ew.’”
I chuckle. “Our situation is a little different.”
“You’re part of the reason we won the Cup,” she says softly, all traces of humor gone. “And like I told you once before, loyalty plays a big part in how I run this team.”
I take the envelope and pull out the papers. Before anyone can say anything, I sign them and push the stack back to her. “I don’t need anyone to look at it. I don’t believe you’re trying to screw me over and if I find out there’s a clause in here that I have to scrub your toilets or something, for a million a year, I’ll do it.”
Ms. Barrowman nods and smiles. “I am not trying to screw you over and I have professionals to clean my toilets. Welcomeback, Rome. You too, Billie. You’ll find the ladies are a pretty close-knit group.”
“I see that,” Billie says. “And thank you so much. We’re excited to be part of the organization for another two years.”
“And there’s one more thing. I’m chartering a plane to take everyone to Paris for Marty and Stevie’s wedding. The whole team is invited, so if you’d like two seats, let me know now because we’re almost full.”
