Chapter Ten
Tuesday, March 4th
Madden leaned his head back and un-clicked his seatbelt as the garage door closed behind him. Fourteen hours at the office and five deals made. Not that he had a lot to do with it. More like he sat there for decoration while Carter did most of the talking on conference calls. It went beyond a pride thing. It felt genuinely awful when the people who meant the most in the world didn’t think you could do your job. Sleeping in the car sounded like a viable option. It would even save time in the morning when he had to be back at zero dark thirty to stand around like a placeholder. He’d thought hard about asking to share Saralynn’s sleeping bag, but even she cut out around six. Plus, it wouldn’t have helped popular opinion about him to be caught office camping with the head of PR.
The door leading into the house opened, and Cole stood there, backlit by the chandelier in the hallway. Having a roommate wasn’t always convenient, but the kid meant well. And it was probably better than sulking in the dark mansion alone like Batman, one superhero he no longer wanted to emulate. Batman might always get the girl, but he always lost her, too. Hopefully, those days are behind me.
He slid out of the car and bumped shoulders with Cole on the way inside. “Hey, Robin.”
“Huh?”
“Nothin’. You want pizza?”
“Ahead of you. It’s on the kitchen counter.”
“Boy Wonder, you earn your keep.”
“Oh, now I get it. Hey, why am I the sidekick?” Cole trailed him into the kitchen and took one of the stools at the island counter.
Madden sat on another and plucked a piece of pepperoni from the open box. “Because you look better in tights.”
“Fuck off,” he laughed. “So what’s the word? Who’s staying, who’s going? I know I’m not, but I’m curious.”
Madden took a big bite, eating half of it in one mouthful and wiped the grease on his chin with the back of his hand. “You’re never leaving as far as management’s concerned. We’ll trade every last player for shmoes who will take a salary cut if it means giving the rest to you.”
Cole shook his head. “You know that’s not me. I like playing in Vegas. I was drafted here, and I’ve already won two Cups. I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you put that in writing, my sister will name her firstborn after you.”
He wadded up a napkin and pitched it at Madden’s forehead. “Come on. Who got the ax?”
Madden picked another piece of pizza, bit off the end, and sighed. “Scotty.”
“Shit, are you serious?”
He nodded. That one hadn’t been easy. Scotty had a pretty good few seasons, and a couple teams had been interested in him. “He’s going to Tampa.”
“So who’d we get?”
“Filipelli.”
“Jesus, that’s incredible. I mean, I love Scotty, but Filly’s a legend. Why don’t you look like you just won the lottery?”
Because I didn’t have anything to do with it. That was selfish, though, and the kid wouldn’t understand. Dylan Cole only ever thought about the good of the team. That’s what made him the best captain and a great human being. At the moment, it also made him a lousy confidant. “No, I’m happy. It’s a huge score, and he’ll add a lot of depth. I’m just tired, dude.”
