I nod in understanding, as that’s what any general manager would do. I think professional players are usually mature enough to handle these types of talks with a grain of salt. Still…there should be no residual tension.
“But there’s more to it,” I say. While I won’t ever second-guess the way Gray handles things as a general manager, I do want to fully understand the situation, since we know Lexi is in our life to stay, and Roman might be part of the package with her.
Gray looks at me with a measure of sad frustration and nods. “I’m sorry, Dad. But you know how there are people that you just don’t click with?”
I nod in understanding.
“Well, Roman is one of them,” she admits while holding my gaze. “He’s one of those reckless players who makes no apologies for the way he is, and frankly, he’s borderline disrespectful at times. He’s definitely got control issues and bucks against the system at every turn.”
“So it’s personal to you?” I ask so I make sure I’m getting the true gist of what she says.
“Yes,” she says in complete candor. “Part of it is personal with me, and now that he’s seeing Lexi, it’s become even more so. There’s a part of my irritation that comes from being protective of Lexi because he’s a known player.”
“But maybe he’s changed in that respect,” I point out. “I mean…he dropped a pink teddy bear off to her tonight to let her know he was thinking of her. That doesn’t scream player.”
“I know,” Gray huffs out. “And maybe you’re right, but it’s hard for me to give him the benefit of the doubt when I don’t know him.”
“So get to know him,” I suggest.
“How, when he won’t come to family events?” she counters.
“I bet he’d be willing to perhaps go on a double date with you and Ryker,” I offer. “That’s not as pressure filled.”
“Maybe,” Gray says grudgingly.
“I’ll start reaching out to him more,” Ryker says to his wife. He’s our goalie coach and doesn’t have anything to do with the defensemen, really, but he does travel with the team and is there during all practices. “We should probably try to get to know him if Lexi’s getting serious.”
“She’s getting serious,” I say knowingly. That look on her face said it all, and I can even relate to it more because if I’d look in the mirror when I think of Georgia, I’d have that same look on my face too.
“You two are right,” Gray says in a grudging tone. “I’ll try to figure a way to ease those tensions, but I can’t do it at the expense of my general manager duties.”
“Would never want you to, honey,” I assure Gray as I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder. “That’s still a priority, but I have confidence you can find the balance.”
“I hope so,” she says glumly.
I hope so too, because all of these relationships are so fragile and new, there’s a greater risk they’ll be broken rather than strengthened.
Chapter 24
Roman
Stepping off the bus, I follow my teammates almost single file into the Park Hyatt Hotel, exhausted after a brutal game against the Washington Breakers, but all that matters is we came away with the win. I received a small cut on my right cheekbone due to an “altercation” on the ice, but I’m proud to say the other guy looks worse. He got the first punch, but I got the last.
Best of all, this fight was legit, and Gray Brannon can’t give me shit about it. That douche McClenden dropped the gloves first and I was just obliged to take him up on it. No one can argue with my reaction, and the five-minute major penalty was well worth McClenden needing to leave the ice to get stitched up. I was completely fine with a few butterflies one of our trainers slapped onto my tiny cut.
The minute we hit the lobby, fans start calling out to the players, but my name gets called the loudest and by the most people, because even though I’m part of a team that just beat their ass, I used to play for the Breakers before I came to the Cold Fury.
A quick scan of the crowd and I see plenty of my old Breaker jerseys being worn, and that’s because I was revered here. The Breakers built a reputation on gritty, no-holds-barred hockey, and I was the cornerstone of that philosophy. Even the team management turned blind eyes to my antics because deep down they knew it was a necessary part of the game.
Not so much with the Cold Fury, though.
Or at least I’m coming to learn.
“Roman…Roman…can we get an autograph?” I hear someone call out.
Another, “Roman, we miss you.”
And another, “Roman, please take a picture with me.”
With an internal smile, because I don’t want anyone to see I’m still flattered by the love I have from some old fans, I break off from my teammates as they file to the elevators or head over to the group of Cold Fury fans clustered in the lobby. Most are wearing Cold Fury jerseys, but there’s a good chunk of Breakers’ fans who want some of my time, and I’ve never been one to shortchange people who support me.