Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Let me know what you find out,” Gage says. My primary purpose in talking to Camden isn’t about the trade but to try to uncover why he’s seemed so off. “Also, let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“You bet.”
I leave Gage’s office and walk the fifteen feet down to mine, once again looking at my watch. Camden will be here in a few minutes, and our conversation has the potential to go a little longer than my schedule allows. I’ve got a twelve-thirty lunch date with Ava, and I need to let her know I might be running a few minutes late.
After I’m seated at my desk, I pull out my phone to shoot her a quick text. Instead, I see that she’s sent me one. I’m really sorry to do this, especially on such short notice, but I’m not going to be able to make our lunch date. I got a Zoom interview with that agency in Charlotte at 12:30.
Well, shit.
That fucking sucks.
I quickly text her back that I understand and try to put it out of my mind. But damn it… I was really looking forward to seeing her. I know it was only going to be for a short time, and we would be hunched over my desk eating whatever she was bringing, but it was the only time I’d see her for a few days.
My thumbs hover over my phone, wondering if I should text more. Should I say that I’ll miss her?
It doesn’t seem right, even if I feel it.
Goddamn, this whole thing with her is becoming confusing.
The knock on my door draws my hand from my phone, and I look up to see Camden.
At twenty-five, he’s a seasoned second-line defenseman. He came straight into the league at eighteen and has played with Pittsburgh the entire time, although he started with one of our minor league teams. He was one of The Lucky Three, missing that plane trip because of a minor knee injury.
When I first came to Pittsburgh, I spent a lot of time talking to Callum Derringer and the assistant coaches to get a handle on how the three men were doing emotionally, because hockey is as much a mental game as physical. Everyone knew that Coen Highsmith wasn’t managing things well, as he was often in the news for bad behavior. Camden seemed able to deal with it with almost an old man’s wisdom, talking about fate being out of his hands. By all accounts, he’s a happy-go-lucky guy and a favorite among the new players. When he’s on the ice, he gives it his all.
But even with all this effort, he’s just… off. He’s young, skillful, and in shape, so I know it’s not his endurance. This only leads me to believe that maybe his head isn’t in the game.
“Come on in, buddy. Take a seat.”
Camden lowers himself into one of the chairs across from my desk. He’s changed out of his hockey gear, showered (as evidenced by the damp hair), and is back in street clothes. Like the other players, he’ll grab lunch somewhere close by or take advantage of the buffet in the team room and be back by two for our team meeting.
I take a good long look at Camden, and I can see on his face that he’s nervous. As a coach, I could use this knowledge to my advantage, but I don’t believe in leading through fear or intimidation. So I immediately put him at ease. “Nothing for you to worry about with this meeting. Just a heads-up I wanted to share.”
Camden’s eyebrows rise. “What’s that?”
“We’re working on a potential trade deal to bring Bain Hillridge to the team.” I don’t offer any details as that’s confidential at this point.
“If it goes through, who will take the first-line position?” he asks.
I’m not one to sugarcoat things. “Bain.”
I let that sink in for a moment. Camden was a potential choice to move into that position once we sent Nolan to the Vengeance. “You’re qualified for that first-line position, but you’ve been off since the start of the season. Your numbers aren’t what they were last year, and Bain is performing better. I think you have the ability to battle for that position if you want it, but I need to know if there’s anything I can do to help you get your focus back.”
Camden’s gaze slides, and I use that opportunity to push a little harder. “Is it the crash? You need any help with that?”
Camden shakes his head, eyes snapping back to mine. “It’s not that. Just some family stuff I have going on. It’s fair to say my focus has taken a hit.”
“What can I do to help?” I ask, the main reason for this meeting. How can I effectuate some positive change for him?