Fucking badass.
Stevie slips into her building after leaving the crowd of paparazzi and reporters speechless on her doorstep, and I could not be prouder
of that girl.
Standing up for herself, showing the world who she is and not because I wanted her to or because someone else pressured her. But because she owns it and isn’t trying to hide anymore.
Every fiber of my being wants to chase after her and beg her to talk to me. Ask her to let me explain where my head is at and tell her how miserable I’ve been without her. But she asked for time, and she promised we’d talk next flight, so until then, I’m going to deal with the things that are holding me back from being the man she deserves.
Her confidence electrifies me with some of my own as I slip into my Benz and allow my phone to connect to the speaker system in my car. As soon as I pull out of the parking garage, I dial Rich, filling the space with the ringing from his phone.
“EZ, I’m still working on your contract and dealing with the Maddison bullshit. I don’t have much to tell you yet.”
“You’re fired.”
A moment of silence lingers in the car. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you correctly. Are you in your car?”
“You’re fired, Rich.”
He bellows a condescending laugh. “No, I’m not.”
I flash my blinker before turning out of my garage and pulling up to the side of Maddison’s building, not saying another word about it.
My silence gains Rich’s attention. “Zanders, you’re making a huge mistake! You’re less than two weeks away from needing a new team, and you’re firing your agent? No one will sign you. You’ll be lucky to play overseas.”
Leaving Chicago is a massive fear of mine, and I have no desire to do it, but I won’t allow Rich to hear the concern in my voice.
“Then I’ll play overseas,” I say as casually as possible.
“Organizations can’t talk to you while you’re in season. They can only talk to your agent. You know this, right?”
“Yep.”
“Which means teams cannot talk to you without me,” he repeats. “Yep.”
“So, you’re willingly making the biggest mistake of your career. Do you know how much money I’ve made you over the years?” Rich’s typically commanding tone becomes frantic. “I made you!”
“No, Rich.” I casually lean back on the headrest as I wait for Maddison, cautiously eyeing the paparazzi outside his building that thankfully can’t see through my tinted windows. “You made a media persona and slapped my name on it, but I’m not that person anymore, and I’m not sure I ever was. If Chicago doesn’t want to sign me for my talent, then I’ll find somewhere that will, but you’re not making another dime off me. And good luck tipping off the paparazzi for a cut now that we have no ties.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You leaked Stevie’s name, didn’t you?”
He doesn’t need to confirm. As soon as I stepped out of my building and saw the crowd in front of hers, I knew.
“Please don’t tell me you’re throwing away your career, throwing away your multimillion-dollar contract for some pussy. For your flight attendant. I get the fantasy, I really do, but don’t be so fucking stupid, Zanders.”
“Don’t fucking talk about her.” I sit up straighter, looking out the windows of my car, hoping no one can hear me. “I should’ve fired you years ago.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“No, Rich. I really won’t. I’ll have my lawyer draft up the paperwork.” “Zand—”
I hang up the phone with that, just as he’s done to me so many times before. Then I shoot Lindsey, my lawyer, a text to let her know what went down.
I’d be lying if I said I felt at ease with my decision. I don’t. Anxiety is crawling through my body, reminding me that I’m royally fucked without an agent as I try to assure myself that it’s the right move. Hockey-wise, it’s career suicide, but for my life outside the rink, it needed to happen.
I have only a couple of days until my next flight when I get to see Stevie, and I need to be able to go to her with more than just an apology as I beg for her forgiveness. I need to show her that I’m trying to change the things in my life that have held me back when I explain why I did what I did—and firing Rich as my agent was at the top of that list.
Lindsey: About damn time. I’ll have the paperwork for you by tonight.
Also, when are you planning to talk to her?
Rolling my shoulders back, I attempt to relax, but the thought of this impending conversation has been filling my body with panic since I told my sister my plan. But I need to stay relaxed, not just because tonight’s game determines if we go to the Stanley Cup Finals, but because that woman has caused me too many panic attacks over the years, and I refuse to award her another.
Me: She’ll be here tomorrow.
Lindsey: Proud of you.
Finally, Maddison slips out of the lobby with his head low and covered as reporters snap photos of him. He picks up pace as soon as he’s outside, turning the corner and hopping in my Benz. I press my foot on the gas, taking off before anyone else sees us.
“What the fuck? Were they that bad for you?”
“They weren’t waiting for me, and sorry to burst your bubble, but they weren’t waiting for you either.” I turn on my blinker, merge onto the expressway, and head towards the arena. “Stevie’s name got released a couple of hours ago. They were waiting for her.”
In my peripheral, I can see Maddison’s mouth fall open. “Shit,” he hisses under his breath. “How’d she handle that?”
A proud smile slides across my lips as I keep my eyes on the road ahead of me. “She fucking owned it.”
“Was it Rich?”
“Had to be.” A long pause of silence lingers between us. “I just fired him.”
Quickly, my eyes bounce to Maddison sitting in the passenger seat, stunned silent. Finally, a deep, startled laugh heaves from his chest.
“Fuck yeah, you did!” He shakes my shoulders in celebration. “He’s back! Let’s go!”
“Okay, okay,” I laugh. “I’m driving.”
Maddison settles into his seat with a content sigh. “You know you’re pretty fucked for next season without an agent, right?”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
A sly grin lifts on the side of my mouth. “I guess we’re gonna have to go out with a bang. We’re going to win the Stanley Cup right after I win my girl back.”
