“I walked three blocks.”
“Nobody asked you to.”
“I suffered for this latte.”
“You play professional hockey.”
“Exactly. I’m delicate.”
I move to the center of the room. “We have some time before the phone call with Damian Price.” From behind me:
“You’re really not drinking it?”
“No.”
“That hurts.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Will I?”
“Unfortunately.” I roll my eyes.
I pull the other chair out. Sit. Open my iPad. He has been in this room for forty seconds, and I already need to regulate my breathing.
We get through the pre-session setup. I pull up the penaltyfile. Turn the screen to show him the Vancouver footage — and stop.
My lock screen is different.
It was a standard NHL logo this morning. It is now a photo of Max Stevens from the official team website — the media portrait, full smile, stick on shoulder — with the caption, in white text, someone has added beneath it: your most important assignment.
I stare at it.
He is looking at the monitor with the focused attention of a man watching critical film footage. The monitor is off.
“Mr. Stevens.”
“Mm.”
“When did you change my lock screen?”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“You were the only person who touched this tablet.”
“I handed it back immediately.”
“You changed my lock screen in the time it took to hand it back.”
He turns and looks at the screen. At his own face on my iPad. Then back at me with an expression of pure serenity. Consider the contents of my file with this visual aid.
From the hallway, through the glass, Anthony Dudek is watching. He catches my eye. Mouths: I saw nothing.
I open the settings. Navigate to the display menu. There must be seventeen steps to changing a lock screen image. Max watches me do it. He says nothing. When I’m finished and the screen is backto the NHL logo, he nods once.
“Good,” he says. “Now. Vancouver. Third period.”
I open the clip. “Your penalty in the third.”
