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“Reid.” I drag one of my hands from my jeans to be polite, then shake her hand. “How long have you had the team?”
“Oh, I just started maybe three weeks ago? The team needed help, and my brother-in-law got me this job to get out of the house.”
I frown.
Well, it deepens because that’s all that’s ever on my face.
“So, you’ve been coaching—”
“No, no.” She rocks her head back and forth. “I’ve never been a hockey coach.
Andddd I’m done.
The deal was to help a coach with a team, not teach a coach to be a coach to a team.
“It was nice to meet you, Hollyn,” I ground out. “Have a good night.”
I begin to pivot when her voice—some melodic and sweet notes that fit her ideally—hits the side of my body.
“Wait.” She doesn’t continue, causing me to glance back over at her. “Where are you going?”
How do I put this nicely?
This is a joke.
They shouldn’t have hired you.
I’m not about to waste my time educating you and a bunch of kids I can’t stand to be around.
You’re cute and all, but you shouldn’t have quit your day job.
“I’m leaving,” I simply state, leaving it at that because I don’t need everyone out here to cry tonight. “This isn’t—”
“Have you met Weston?”
Oh, God, there are more idiots?
“Who?”
“The coach.”
Oh, thank fuck.
My shoulders relax a bit, but then the idea of where the hell is he enters my mind, and I’m back to square one.
It’s not registering in my head how the staff here isn’t on it or highly doesn’t give a shit about it. I’m not about to put any energy into this image thing that Dylan wants me to do if it has nothing to do with hockey but instead fixing an organization.
And we’re gonna use that term loosely.
“No,” I reply. “I haven’t.”
Hollyn smiles again, and I’m not so sure why she’s so happy. Maybe they’re that desperate for help, but besides the kids not knowing how to skate and God knows what else, I don’t see why she’d have such an optimistic attitude. Clearly, no one gives enough of a shit to do a decent session.
“He’s great,” she concedes. “He should be here any minute.”
I bob my head because maybe he had to step out for a call or had to go to the restroom.
“Do you want a juice box?”
