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“I’m in sunny Florida right now, scouting a future basketball star. Kid has legs for fucking days and is polite to reporters. A gift from the sports gods.”
I snort, leaning my shoulders back against the wall next to my door. Jack is a good agent and has done well by me, even though I haven’t always given him a lot to work with. But more than that, he’s also my friend, and genuinely seems to care about his client’s lives.
“How long before you head home?” I ask.
“Tomorrow, probably. How are you liking South Carolina?”
“I love it.” I answer, honestly, and Jack laughs.
“Told you it’d be a good fit.”
“You did.” I admit. “Is that why you’re calling? About my contract?”
“I wanted to feel you out. It’s been radio silence from South Carolina, although I’ve got some pretty high interest from L.A.—”
“No,” I interrupt, panicked, “I can’t go to L.A. East Coast teams or nothing. Preferably, I’d like to stay where I’m at. I’dreallylike to stay where I’m at, Jacky.”
He’s silent for a long moment; long enough that I pull the phone away from my ear to check that the call is still connected.
“What’s going on, St. James?” Jack’s using his professional voice, call switching from a friendly chat to a business one just like that.
“Nothing, I just like it on this team and want to stay.”
“You’ve never asked me to fight for a contract renewal before.” He reminds me. “Highest offer no matter where it is, I just want to play hockeyis the line you’ve always spouted. What changed?”
“Nothing changed. As I said, I just like it here.”
“You met someone.” Jack states, and I hear a shuffle of papers and a click of a pen on the other end of the line. “I’m guessing it’s a man, not a woman, since you’re being so cagey. You have to tell me these things.”
He sounds exasperated. Telling Jack I was bi was one of the first things I did when I hired him; if shit ever hit the fan about my sexuality, I wanted him to have plan A, B, and C ready to roll out at a moment’s notice. This is the first time we’ve had a conversation about it since then.
“I met someone.” I admit. “And yes, it’s a man.”
“Good for you. Name?”
“I can’t give you his name.” Another long silence follows.
“I’m not in the business of outing anyone. I need a name. I need any information you can give me that might be used by the press.” Jack tells me. Again, I hear the scratch of a pen on paper.What the hell is he writing?
“I’m sorry, but I really can’t tell you. He’s…it’s a delicate situation, and he might not want me to—”
“You know what a delicate situation is? Me flying to New York to beat some sense into your concussed head. What part ofI need to know all the information before the press does so I can spin it in our favordo you not understand?”
“Corwin Sanhover.” I whisper, and the line goes dead silent.
“No.” Jack’s quiet, other than that one uttered word. I wait him out. “Please tell me you’re not serious. Even you can’t possibly be that fucking stupid.”
“I’m serious.”
“Corwin Sanhover, your teammate? Corwin Sanhover, the fucking golden boy of hockey? Corwin Sanhover, who was signed to South Carolina as a rookie and will probably retire there because they worship the ice he skates on?ThatCorwin Sanhover?”
“Sounds like I’m not the only one in love with him.”
“Do you think now is the time for jokes?”
Sighing, I rest my head back against the wall and close my eyes. On the other end of the line I hear a pop tab and a hiss, like Jack’s just cracked open a can of beer. He’s likely wishing he had something stronger.
“Alright. Alright.” He says, finally. He sounds like he’s psyching himself up. “The plan is to keep the pair of you locked firmly in the closet. Who’s his agent? I need their number.”
