Page 72 of Brooklynaire
“Bingley. Are there any new injury reports for the Dallas team or forAnaheim?”
“One moment, sir… Yes. Simms will not be appearing in game one forAnaheim.”
“Fuck.”
“Sir?”
“It’s an expression of displeasure. Ignore allfucks.”
“Yes,sir.”
Besides, I can’t decide if that’s good news or bad. I hate Dallas with all my heart and soul. So I don’t want them to get an easy win. On the other hand, if they won the Western Conference my boys could mow them down in thefinals.
Now that was an appealing little daydream. Yet not a statistically likelyoutcome.
My phone vibrates in mypocket.
“Stewart is calling, sir,” Bingleyannounces.
I grab the phone, because Stewie doesn’t usually bother me on the weekend. Unlike me, he has a life. “Yeah,” I say, answering it. “What’s up,man?”
“I’m on a golf course on Kiawah,” he says with a chuckle. “What’s up withyou?”
“Are you calling to see if I’m out giving the HR department something to fret over? Well, I’m not.” And aren’t we a study in contrasts. “I’m just lying here on the sofa, conversing with my digital assistant. As onedoes.”
My old friend snorts into his phone. “Look, I’m not checking up on you. And before the players behind us get pissed off, I just had a text that we’re getting an offer for the router divisiontomorrow.”
“Really?” I sit up. “From who?” It can’t be Alex, because she would call meherself.
“Actually, from iBits Canada. The chipmaker. And they want to do a licensing deal,too.”
“Well, that’scomplicated.”
“A little bit. Anyway—we’ll get all the deets tomorrow, okay? Just thought you’d want to know so you can plan yourweek.”
“Thanks, man. Hit ‘em long andstraight.”
“As if. I’ve already lost a lifetime’s worth of balls on thiscourse.”
“Hold on to your balls, man.” I could never resist the obviousjoke.
“Later,nerd.”
“Later.”
We hang up, and I immediately feel better. Now my big brain has something to do. Except there’s just one problem. I was planning to go to Detroit tomorrow to watch hockey. And now I’m thinking that’s not going tohappen.
“Bingley—call Hugh Major forme.”
“It would be my pleasure,sir.”
My phone lights up in my hand, and I hear Hugh’s phone ring a moment later. “Hey, Nate,” the Bruisers’ General Manager says. “What’shappening?”
“I’m going to pull Lauren out of the Bruisers’ office for the week. Sorry for the short notice, but I need her inManhattan.”
“She’ll be thrilled.” Hechuckles.
“I know, right? We probably won’t make it to Detroit this week. Can you get someone else to travel with you?” Hugh always has an assistant on theroad.
