Page 133 of Game Misconduct

“I will too,” Leif promised. “Maybe between the two of us, it’ll get a little better.”

“I wonder if things will be any different with the new ownership,” Ian asked.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.” Leif considered the idea. “Maybe.”

The previous owners were a private equity group. They’d sold the franchise to an entertainment company recently. There was talk of a new GM coming in soon, which probably meant a new coach too.

“It’s a woman-led company,” Leif said. “That’s something.”

It was the kind of thing his mom talked about. About the importance of women in leadership positions. Not that every woman was progressive or anything, but Jillian Winters had a good record at least.

“We can hope,” Ian said grimly.

They talked more about what it would be like if there was a new GM and a new coach.

“I’d love it if it was someone younger,” Ian said. “Not one of these stuffy old guys. Someone under fifty would be a nice change of pace, you know?”

Leif chuckled. “Yeah, the coaching carousel gets pretty tedious.”

“I wonder what it’s like for the Harriers. They’ve got a younger GM. He’s hot too.”

Surprised, Leif chuckled again. “Yeah, Racine’s not bad.”

“I won’t say anything about the coaching staff since your dad’s on it.” Ian shot him a smile.

“Thanks for that,” Leif said with a small laugh. “I appreciate it.”

“I feel a little bad saying this, but hopefullywhoeverthey get will move some of the old guys on the roster out,” Ian said. “I mean, we have a fair number of UFAs. Maybe they’ll test the market and go elsewhere.”

“We can hope,” Leif agreed. “You know, good looks aside, I’ve heard great things about Gavin Racine from guys on the Harriers’ roster.”

“Who do you know on—oh right, you were in Juniors with Tanner Clayton.”

“Yeah,” Leif said, suddenly feeling flustered. Ugh. Why had he brought him up?

“Bad blood there?” Ian asked.

“Mmm,” Leif managed. “It’s complicated. We drive each other nuts on the ice. Off it … we get along.”

That was putting it mildly, but what else could he say?

Thankfully, Ian didn’t press him, and the conversation segued to talk of the Rockets’ playoff chances, which were looking slimmer and slimmer by the day. They’d been clinging to a wild card spot for months, sliding down a position or two in the rankings, then rising again.

That had been the story with the Rockets for several years now. Hovering in the mushy middle. Too good to get any blue-chip draft prospects. Too bad to manage anything but humiliating losses in the early rounds.

This season wasn’t looking much better. Not that Leif wouldn’t fight until the bitter end to win; he just wasn’t holding his breath aboutanything.

“Want to come with me to walk the dog?” Ian asked a little while later as their discussion about playoffs finally wound down and Emmie was whining near the door.

“Sure,” Leif said, standing.

It didn’t take them long to grab their coats and a leash and as they reached the sidewalk, Emmie trotted out ahead of Ian and Leif fell into step beside him.

Ian lived in a charming little suburban neighborhood, and it was an overcast but pleasant day. It had rained earlier and the air smelled like fresh wet grass. Not bad for late March. Leif couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave the city but this was nice.

Emmie sniffed a lot of things and barked at a squirrel and peed and they made a couple of loops around the block before they returned to his house.

Leif had been planning to excuse himself, but when he paused by his car, Ian said, “You wanna stay for dinner? It’s dietician approved.”