AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m glad we landed yesterday afternoon with enough time to get her over to visit her dad. I went in after I grabbed some groceries and spent a few minutes talking to him. Even though Coy has no cognizance of me, I kept up a steady stream of dialogue. I talked about the Pittsburgh Titans since I took this job long after he fell into a vegetative state, telling him everything about my new career as a general manager.
Sitting by his bed, I thought of every little thing I do to run the team and told Coy all about it—I believe that hearing voices speaking to him has to be a good thing. “It’s juggling a lot of balls at the same time. Let’s see… most important I think is roster management. Negotiating and signing players to contracts, facilitating trades, that sort of thing. It requires a deep understanding of our team’s needs and the nuances of the salary cap. That’s a delicate balancing act, making sure we stay competitive while keeping in compliance with the league’s rules on the cap. I work with the scouts and coaches to evaluate and select young talent, then I manage picking players from the draft. I have full authority to hire and fire coaches and other executive staff, but luckily, we have an amazing group of people who work for the organization. I’ve only had to fire one asshole and he deserved it.
“Oh, yeah… I’m the direct liaison with Brienne Norcross, the team’s owner. You wouldn’t know this, but she took over the team after her brother died when the Titans’ plane went down. I keep her apprised of the day-to-day operations and consult with her on major decisions. You’d like her. She’s strong and independent, just like your Juni.” I cut a glance over to said woman and she looked startled. I know she doesn’t think of herself that way because she stayed with Joshua for so long, but I know the real Juniper.
My gaze moved back to her dad, and I continued. “I’m the main interface with the media when it comes to discussing trades, signings, team performance and other matters of public interest.”
When I finally finished and Juniper and I were leaving, she said, “It was surreal hearing you tell my dad about your job.”
I smiled at her in understanding because Juniper would know all about what a general manager does for a hockey team. She’d shared in that dream with me since we began dating, was by my side as I studied sports management in college and waited patiently in the wings as I cut my teeth in other areas of the industry before landing my dream job. Everything she heard me describe to her father, she could’ve probably recited word for word.
“…acquisitions that are at the top of your list, Callum?”
I startle out of the memory, embarrassed that Cannon just asked me a question and I only caught half of it. I ask a clarifying question of my own. “You mean who’s at the top of my list?”
Cannon nods. “Outside of Navarro.”
“I’ve been doing a deep study on North Paquette, Rafferty Abrams and Atlas Karolak.”
Cannon’s eyebrows hike and Gage leans forward and places his arms on the table. “Bold moves if you make them,” Gage says.
“Go big or go home,” I reply.
My phone buzzes on the table and I turn it over to see a text from Juniper.
When I left this morning, I told her to contact me if she needed anything. She assured me she wouldn’t and that she intended to unpack and read a book. I offered to leave her my car as it would be easy for me to Uber to the arena. That way, she could go visit her dad, but she actually said she was a little tired and just wanted to hang out at my house.
I can only see the first two lines of the text. I’m organizing your pantry and do you have a preference if…
The text cuts off and I have no clue what she needs to know. In the grand scheme of things, this is not something that requires my immediate attention and is not nearly as important as the discussions going on around this table regarding the future of the Titans.
Yet I find myself saying, “Do you mind if we take a five-minute break?”
Brienne rises from her chair. “Let’s make it fifteen. I have a phone call I have to make.”
Everybody stands to stretch, but I’m already walking out of the conference room and headed toward my office where I close the door behind me. I don’t even bother reading the rest of Juniper’s text and instead call her.
“Hello?” she answers hesitantly.
“Rearranging my pantry, huh?” I ask, not filtering the teasing tone I’m trying to convey. “Someone must be bored.”
“Let’s just say being jobless does not suit me,” Juniper replies dryly.
Unfortunately, she did have to quit her job as there was no potential for remote work in her position. She hated not being able to give sufficient notice, but her boss was incredibly understanding after Juniper explained the underlying issues. She told the full truth as to what was going on with Joshua and I get the impression she had a close enough relationship with her boss she could share those things.
“I was just curious if you wanted me to arrange things in a certain way. I mean clearly, you have absolutely no organization because you’ve got the pasta sauce right next to the cereal, which is right next to the crackers. None of that stuff goes together.”
I can’t help the deep laugh that rumbles out of me. Fuck if I haven’t missed Juniper’s wit. And how could I forget that she’s an organizational freak? “You put my house in order however you see fit. You can only help matters.”
“I also have no clue what time you’re going to be home, but I found enough ingredients in your freezer and pantry to make a passable meal. I was going to do some shredded chicken tacos, if that’s okay with you?”
I try very hard to ignore the flush of pleasure that sweeps through me at the thought of Juniper cooking a meal in my home for us to share after work.
Wasn’t that the dream I always had where she was concerned? We were going to get married once I got a stable job in the front-office of a professional hockey organization. We would spend our evenings talking over good food and wine. We’d cuddle on the couch, watch TV and then make love all night.
That was the fucking dream and I ruined it.
I banish the sense of loss that produces. I’m not allowed to feel those things because I chose to let it go. “I’ll probably be home around six thirty, if that’s okay with you?”
