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And that’s about all it told me. Except that he has a bad temper, likes to pick fights on and off the ice, and isn’t easy to work with. Oh, and apparently, he’s incredibly focused and currently one of the best players in the league.
Other than that, he has zero social media presence, seems to have gotten out of all public appearances and once, when someone photographed him working out, he grabbed the camera, set it on a weight bench, and dropped a forty pound kettlebell on it.
He’s a lovely human being.
“Okay, so what about a manager or something?” I look at Dallas. “Alicia is around a lot, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, but Gray is represented by a different firm,” Dallas says.
“He’s with Malcolm Crane,” Coach Turnrose adds.
Whoa. I don’t know sports, but I know who Malcolm Crane is. Top tier celebrities and athletes.
“And Malcolm knows I don’t need a nanny.” Gray glares at the coach, and I begin to see just how hard this job is going to be. If he talks this way to his coach, how is he going to treat me?
All right. Let’s try the direct approach.
I turn to Gray. “Why’d you come to our Sunday dinner?”
His eyebrows raise, surprised. “What?”
“I assume Dallas invited you,” I say. “But you didn’t talk to anyone, you ate, and then you left right after it was over. So . . . why did you even come?”
He pauses for a beat, then quips, “I was hungry.”
I nod, as if pondering this. “I don’t think that was it.”
“You don’t think I was hungry?”
“No, I think you were hungry, but I don’t think that’s why you were there.” I lean forward in my chair just a little. “I think you want to try to make this whole thing with the Comets work. I think you know that together, you and Dallas could get that championship cup thingie. And I think you might even be sick of being the guy no one wants to be around.”
“Champion cup thingie?”
“You know what I mean.”
He sucks his teeth. “You figured all that out from one dinner, huh?” he asks.
And one kiss.
“Yep. I can help you, but you have to drop the act, quit pretending you hate everything and everybody, and start being honest.”
He stares.
I stare right back.
There’s a tense moment, and I wonder if he’s dreaming up ways to get me to quit this job before I even start it, but somehow I believe he knows that’s not going to happen.
He sits back in his chair, and wordlessly holds up his hand as if to say Okay, fine. You win.
Oh. Wow. I really didn’t think that was going to work. I try to hide my pride as I turn to the coach. “So, about this job.”
Chapter Six
Gray
This sucks.
I’m literally in the principal’s office. I’m a kid, sitting in the principal’s office, being told all the reasons why I got in trouble.
