Page 73 of Locke

“More than I expected,” I say honestly.“His family background, his childhood, formative relational dynamics.Enough to start piecing the puzzle together of his volatility.”

“And what’s driving it?”

I hold his gaze.“I’d prefer to keep the content of those sessions between Locke and myself.For the same reason you’d want that—if players think anything they say to me ends up at this table, nobody says anything real.”

Patrick inclines his head.“Fair point.”

“What I can tell you is that the on-ice improvement is real and not incidental.He’s doing the work.”Which is true, but as I told him the other night, there’s the threat of him blowing again if the underlying issues aren’t dealt with.“And the team trust piece is moving.Slowly, but it’s moving.He’s integrating with the others.”

Patrick sits with that.“You have one session left.”

“Yes.”

“What happens after that?”

The question produces a pit in my stomach, which is why I’ve been turning it over for days without landing on an answer I’m comfortable with.“I’m not entirely sure yet, but I’m hoping the third session gives me enough to build a longer-term voluntary framework with him.”

“And if he doesn’t opt in?”

“Then I’ll have done what I can do.”I meet his eyes.“And it will be solely on Donovan to keep his job with this team.”

Patrick smiles at me.“Thank you, Livia.Sounds like you’re doing a great job.”

I wonder if he’d say the same thing if he knew I was sleeping with Locke.Probably not.

I exhale carefully through my nose, pick up my pen, and jot a note on my legal pad that means nothing, just to have somewhere to look.

From the corner of my eye, I can see the camera has moved.Evan has angled slightly, the lens no longer on Patrick but back on me.I make myself stay very still and my expression professional, as it should be when in a staff meeting discussing a player with whom everything is completely appropriate.

The meeting wraps at the two-hour mark.Everyone gathers their things before filing out of the room.I’m stacking my notes and capping my pen when Juno appears at my elbow.

“Walk with me for a second,” she says.

It isn’t really a question and I note Evan’s there with the camera on his shoulder.

We fall into step in the corridor outside the conference room.

“You’ve been working with Locke Donovan for a few weeks now,” she says, coming right out like the opening of an interview, which it is.

“That’s right.”

“He came in with a significant disciplinary history.Penalty minutes, on-ice incidents, the like.”She pauses, glances over at me.“And your read after two sessions is that he’s improving?”

“I think everyone can see that for themselves.”

“What’s your sense of him as a person?Not the player.The man.”

Evan moves around to catch my face and I try to ignore the camera.

“He’s—” I start, but then I stop.

The camera is right there and Juno’s staring at me.I can tell by the look on her face that she suspects I might have a deeper story.

My eyes cut to Evan and no words come out.

Juno looks at Evan.“Give us a minute.”

He lowers the camera without comment and gives me a small smile before heading down the hallway.