Page 100 of Shot Taker

“I miss when guys were treated like people instead of scorecards.”

The leather booth creaks as I shift back and study our GM.

He turns his beer in his hand before taking a long sip. “Things are challenging with Coach out. Emotionally, for everyone, because no one figured he’d still be in this position a week out, but also for making decisions. Because deals have to get signed and players need to be locked down. That’s why I want to talk about LA.”

A bit of the friendliness fades from his eyes, replaced by resoluteness. “I called your manager this weekend—”

“I don’t want a trade.”

His nostrils flare.

I'm sure the words sound as strange in his ears as they feel in my mouth.

“Since when?”

“A while,” I say.

I’ve always thought taking control of my destiny was about getting to the best team and creating a legacy for myself.

What if I’ve been seeing it wrong the whole time?

Harlan curses under his breath. “Your entire career, you’ve known you were the best. But I won’t build a team around a man who doesn’t want to be here. Can’t put a house on an unwilling foundation.”

“I can lead this team,” I say.

“But do you want to? Or is this about Nova?”

My hands fist. “I think you’re beyond asking questions about my love life. But I wouldn’t be the first player to make a decision to stay near the people he cares about.”

This is how I’ll show her I’m committed to us. To a future together.

I can give her some of the stability she craves without making decisions for her.

Harlan’s expression softens a bit. “She’s certainly making an impression around here. And I’m sorry for trying to keep you apart. I thought it was for the best, but that doesn’t make it right.”

I shift in my seat, take another sip of my drink. Guess some part of me thought that too, or I wouldn’t have done it. “You still sleeping on the couch?”

“Spare bedroom,” he corrects.

“Not much difference.”

“Not in the ways that count.” Harlan slings an arm over the back of the booth. “Mar’s been going through something. But she hasn’t talked to me about it.”

The fact that he’s suffering too blunts my animosity towards him. In this, at least, we’re the same.

“I meant what I said, Harlan. I’m committed to this place. This team.”

The waitress comes back to offer Harlan another beer, which he declines and then asks for the bill. I nod that I’ll pick it up.

“Why’d you want to meet at Mile High?” Harlan asks.

“I haven’t been around in a while and wanted to check in.”

“Because you like the fries.”

I study him, wondering what his game is.

Nova would show her cards and trust that the rest would work itself out.

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