Page 75 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
In the morning, I call Jett back. I’d ignored his call, not even listening to his message or reading his text. Knowing him, it’s never too early for work, so I press the Jett agency icon on my phone.
“Where the hell have you been? I was about to get in a taxi and come over there to make sure you’re okay.”
“You’re in Boston?”
“Arrived at five a.m. Why didn’t you return my call last night?”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll be thrilled to know I was busy working.”
“Did you get my message?”
“No, sorry, I was too—”
“I spoke to Maddox briefly, to his sister, the team physician, and to team management.”
“Wow.” I shouldn’t be impressed because this is what makes Hamish Jett the best in the business. He’s quick and bright, creative, and truly cares about his clients, lives and breathes the business.
“I’ll give you the most relevant news for you. Since Knight’s medical status is questionable and his family is staying with him, your assignment is temporarily suspended. I talked to the Brawlers’ legal office about it and they agreed. I’m writing up an addendum to the agreement with the Brawlers to officially end our obligation to provide a handler.” The news hits me like a blow to the solar plexus, taking away my breath and making my heart stutter. I can’t talk even if I knew what to say. I can’t tell Jett no, I need to stay with him because I’m in love with him.
“You can come back to New York to your new office,” he says, his voice brightening. “It says Senior Agent Harper St. John on the door—or it will soon. And there will be a bonus deposited in your account within the week.” His words nudge me into behaving like a professional, my familiar role, a place I’m comfortable. Or I was.
“That’s .. awesome,” I say automatically and it should be. Instead my gut churns with worry about Maddox, and a vague sense of helplessness creeps in around the edges of my mind. “This is sudden,” I add. “What about Collins?”
“That’s how this business works. Things can turn on a dime. Collins is out. You’re in. Maddox Knight’s career changed drastically twice in one season. He’s one of the unlucky ones.”
“Don’t say that.” My voice is fierce, too fierce for normal conversation, but I don’t care as the determination in me regroups. “He’s going to be fine.”
“I’m sure he will be. Not sure about his NHL career though. We might be able to angle him for a broadcast job or some kind of promotional gig. We’ll do what we can for him. I don’t think he’s coaching material.”
“Maybe he’ll become a cook and do a cooking show,” I say with some confidence. I’ve already heard positive feedback on the proposal and contract I sent Jay Santos.
“What would you say if I have something in mind for him? A show concept for streaming or cable where he bridges the world between celebrity chefs and pro athletes?”
The line goes silent for a few beats, like he’s thinking and measuring how serious I am by how long I can hold out before jumping in to fill the dead air. I know the tactic and I’ve always been able to measure up on the serious meter. I lift my chin and hold my tongue while I wait him out.
“Okay, I’ll bite. You have something in the works already.” It’s not a question. I give him the pitch.
“He can have celebrity chefs come on with him and teach him and a guest NHL player how to cook healthy dishes. I bet the NHL network will buy that.”
“Hmmm. Very creative. I might even like it if it weren’t so far out in left field. Frankly, I didn’t know Knight was into cooking.”
“He is. He and his dad used to cook together.” Jett snorts.
“That hardly makes him chef material.”
“No, but cooking lessons will. He’s taken a lesson with Jay Santos ofHell’s Kitchenfame.”
“Is that right? Well, well, well.” He pauses and I wait another beat through the dead air, my heart wavering and feeling more than queasy at the idea of abandoning Maddox to an unknown fate if Jett doesn’t go for the idea. In fact, there’s no way I can do that to him and so I won’t.
I’ll refuse to abandon him to an unknown fate. I’ll come up with something else. A million something elses if I have to. Ham interrupts my spiral of panic.
“And Knight is on board with this?” My panic bubbles and settles.
“Absolutely.” It’s the most confident lie I’ve ever told because I know he will be—as soon as I explain it all to him.
“How about if you stick around another week or so—if you don’t mind—and see what the prognosis is and feel him out about his plans. Flesh out the proposal with him. I think you’re right—you just might be able to pitch it to the NHL Network, or even the Food Network if he’s half as good at cooking as he is on ice.”
“One thing is for certain, Ham, he has the personality.” That’s my closing salvo as we end the call.
I have a reprieve in my marching orders to return to New York and that alone is a win. Although I was prepared to quit on the spot, I really would hate to leave the Jett Agency, mostly because of Jett himself. He’s good people. Other agents would already have written Maddox off.
