Page 81 of From Coast to Coast
“I’m sorry?”
“I said no,” I repeat in a clear, ringing voice. “I’m not shaking his hand and pretending he’s not a bigoted asshole. He could apologize to me, though. And Grayson,” I add belatedly.
“Mr. Stone,” Todrick says, and his voice isn’t quite as smooth as before. The strain is peeking through the cracks of his perfect façade—I’m starting to piss him off. “Do you not understand the situation you are in? The outcome of this meeting will determine whether you have a job tomorrow. I would expect a little more repentance and a lot less attitude.”
“And I expect to be able to come to work and not deal with character assassinations based on my sexuality.”
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. I bite back my smile, but just barely. I feel a little like a lawyer in a procedural drama, having a verbal sparring match—Alex would be so proud.
“Tell me something, sir.” I wait until Todrick looks up at me. “If someone was talking trash about your wife straight to your face, would you let that stand?”
He sighs again, and I half expect him to give me a bullshit answer.
“No, I suppose not,” he replies after a few moments. I spread my hands as though to sayyou see what I mean?He stares at me, tapping a finger on top of my contract. “Contact your agent, Mr. Stone. I’ll be drawing up your termination tonight.”
“Fine,” I bite out, standing up and wiping my sweatypalms on my thighs. There was more I wanted to say, but just now I can’t think of it. All I want is to go home to my lifeless, sterile apartment and call Grayson. I want to put on his clothes and hopefully catch a whiff of him; dream of summer and the future.
When I leave the office, I almost run into Zolkov, leaning casually against the wall. He grins when he sees me.
“Come to watch my walk of shame?” I ask, and his smile widens, looking distinctly wolfish.
“Who is ashamed?” he replies.
It startles a laugh from me. “Not me. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be down in the locker room?”
I pull my phone out of my pocket, unsure of what time it actually is. I’m surprised to see it’s still early afternoon; the meeting felt much longer than it ended up being. It’s also way too early for Zolkov to be here.
“Not yet,” he replies, falling into step beside me as we walk down the hall. “I thought perhaps you need a friend to speak for you.”
“You going to be my character witness?” I nudge him, grinning. “If I were going to fight them on terminating my contract, I suppose you could help, but I’m not. I’ll get picked up by another team and hopefully it won’t be a team of dirtbags this time. Present company excluded, of course.”
“If I did not need this to have my Visa, I would have helped you. I do not like them here.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, feeling rotten that first Grayson and now I am leaving.
“Is fine.” He waves a hand. “There are many beautiful women here, to make me feel better.”
“Oh my god.” I snort. We step outside and I immediately try to burrow further into my coat. Beside me, Zolkov looksamused. I hold up a hand before he can say anything. “It’scold, Z. I’m not used to it, yet.”
“And now you will not have to be, yes?”
I raise my eyebrows, forgetting even the cold for a second.Holy shit, he’s right—I can leave.
“Holy shit, you’re right,” I say out loud. “I could go back to California. Or to Colorado!”
“Or, perhaps you will be signed tomorrow to Philly,” Zolkov says, laughing when I glare at him. “Do you need ride home? We should go before frostbite sets in.”
“No, dickhead, I don’t need a ride. I’ll walk. I need to think about what I’m going to tell Gray and my agent. I have a feeling neither one is going to be happy.”
The truth is, I could hear the strain in Grayson’s voice when we’d talked earlier—the tension thrumming through every word as he carefully tried to modulate his tone. I know him well enough to know that he feels responsible, and that anything I say to the contrary probably won’t change that. I could see it on his face—watching as I posted pictures I’d taken of us in California—the hesitation and apprehension. But I’d posted them anyway, because it felt like a concrete way to prove to him that I was serious about our relationship. What better way to do that than come out to 161K followers?
Before I can even get through my front door, my phone is ringing.Ah, so looks like my agent read my email about the meeting this morning.Kicking off my shoes and tossing my winter coat in the direction of the hall closet, I flop down onto the couch and hook my knees over the armrest. I’ve barely hit the answer button when the lecture starts.
It takes forty-five minutes for him to finish with me, and although I’m exhausted, I feel pretty good about thepossibility of finding a new team quickly. In the wise words of my agent: “You might be a fucking idiot, but you play good hockey. Someone will take you.”One conversation down, one to go.
“How did it go?” Grayson asks immediately upon answering. He sounds anxious, like he spent the last couple hours pacing his apartment.
“Fine.”