“Don’t change the subject, Chris,” Sebastian grumbled.
“I’m just saying, that’s a fucking great soundbite. You’re a natural at this press stuff.”
“Chris,” Sebastian insisted they stay on track.
“Fine. We can go back to the harebrained plan of donating all of your hard-earned endorsement dollars to a Cincinnati community center you’re never going to step into.”
“Chris, I made three videos and scored boxes of the energy drink. The money they gave me was not exactly hard-earned.”
“Yeah, well, at least make it an official donation. All this anonymous shit makes me uncomfortable.”
Sebastian snickered. “Uncomfortable, huh? Not part of your vision of the world, people doing the right thing and not getting credit for it.”
“Exactly!” Chris answered, completely missing the sarcasm.
“Just do it. They need the money to push them to the end of their fundraising goals. And do that match thing so it pressures some of the corporate sponsors to increase their donation.” Sebastian gave instructions casually, but his heart was semi-bursting at the idea that FCC would meet its goals.
For the kids. He wanted the campaign to succeed for the kids. It would make a difference in the lives of many.
Who was he kidding? There was another reason. He remembered Jaya’s condition. Before she could embark on the next phase of her life that went beyond being a youth coordinator, she needed to ensure the campaign was successful and she had a replacement. He could help with one of those stipulations. He wanted her to pursue whatever she wanted, even if it didn’t include him.
He ran his hand over his phone, tempted to see her face again and know that smile was for him. When Raj sent him the selfie, it gave him hope. Though hope couldn’t always be trusted.
Chris shook his head and chewed aggressively, as if all this charity talk was inflicting physical distress.
Sebastian continued to break his agent’s balls. “And if you recall, I only secured that energy drink endorsement because I was linked to the community center. As their campaign spokesperson. So, now that I don’t need the money, it makes sense to pay it forward.”
When Sebastian said “don’t need the money” Chris dropped his fork, closed his eyes, and grabbed his chest as if seized by a heart attack.
“You’re killing me, Sebastian. Just because we’re signing this deal with the Sharks, there’s no such thing as not needing the money. Has your wonderful mother taught you nothing?”
“She taught me plenty. For instance, there is such a thing as enough.”
Chris took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. “You are. You are truly determined to kill me,” he accused, deadpan.
It was two days after the OT win, and they were having lunch at the Cuban restaurant he had taken Jaya to months ago. Why? Because the only thing worse than missing Jaya was not thinking about the times they were together. If he couldn’t be with Jaya, he would go to places that reminded him of her. If she wouldn’t talk to him, he would do things that connected him to her. Even if he’s the only one who knew it. He ran his hand over his phone again.
As if reading his mind, Chris prompted, “How did that community center hottie turn out? The youth coordinator or whatever. You dated for a while, right?”
Swallowing hard, Sebastian frowned. “Did you say hottie?”
“Woman. Whatever. You know what I mean. She still there?” As if realization dawned on him, Chris burst, “Is that what this is about? Trying to get your girl back?”
Chris, for all of his cynical materialism, had a misplaced romantic streak. His eyes glinted while waiting for Sebastian to answer. “Because newsflash! That only works if she knows.”
“Chris.” Sebastian’s voice was curt.
Raising his hands in surrender, the agent shut his mouth.
“Set up the match donation soon. And let me know when they announce the end of the campaign.”
“Yeah, yeah. Will do.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Do you though?”
Sebastian managed to smile at the dig. Though temporary, he was mildly cheered by Chris’s exaggerated reactions and shameless vices.
“Now that we’re done with giving away all your money, can we get down to making more? Did you review the contract?”
The Sharks offered Sebastian a five-year contract worth thirty-three million dollars, plus playoff bonuses. It didn’t start that high, though once Chris got Colorado and San Jose involved in a bidding war, Florida stepped up. Two days after they made the offer, Sebastian won them the first-round series.
Although the offer would not be publicly announced until the end of the post-season, they were signing the exclusive today. It suited Sebastian to nail the contract but keep things quiet. He didn’t want to change the dynamic of the team in the middle of the playoffs. Better to prove himself before announcing something that big.
“Looks good to me. What time are we expected at the lawyer’s?”
Chris checked his phone. “I have time for another drink after lunch,” was his answer, along with a wink.
“Must be nice,” Sebastian commented absentmindedly. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure. You’re my favorite client after all.”
He didn’t even dignify the comment with a snort. “If we end up playing Columbus, can you secure me some seats for kids? Like, I don’t know, a dozen or so.”
“For a playoff game? That’s not easy to do.”
“Just do your best, Chris.”
The agent shook his head again. He called over the waitress to order the drink he promised himself.
“Is this another gift from Santa Claus or am I allowed to tell them you bought the tickets?”
“Go ahead and tell them. I want to meet the kids after the game.” A plan was shaping up. Something that involved seeing Jaya. He would ensure the Hockey-For-All folks she volunteered with got the tickets.
“Alright. I can work with that.”
Then Chris added, partly to get a rise out of Sebastian and partly because he would never waste an opportunity to make the news, “Though you in a Santa outfit would make a hell of a press conference.”
***
They were short half a defenseman. Andor Talstad’s previous calf injury resurfaced during the break between the first and second rounds of the playoffs. Sweeping Tampa Bay while waiting for the Nashville and Columbus series to wrap up offered too many opportunities for the reckless defenseman to push himself at the gym.
Andor was replaced by Brendon Feeney, a young defenseman with grit but little experience. Which was to say, Brendon was approximately half the player that Andor was. The rest of the defensive core would feel the loss. And the whole team would feel the pressure.
“The last time we played Columbus,” Coach Sorensen said during the pre-game review, “they outworked us at the boards. Those battles in the corners—you have to win them if you want a clean outlet pass. If you aren’t committed to playing the man, really holding him down instead of dancing around the fucking puck, Columbus will make you pay.”
The coaches ran video feeds to prepare the team for what they were up against. Columbus wasn’t the biggest team in the league, but they were sneaky as fuck. They had that Patterson kid who had a pesky habit of coming out of nowhere. Keeping track of a speedster like that was shitty work and required the most experienced of defensemen.
Everyone resumed their pre-game routines just as Theo pulled Sebastian aside. “Hey, I’m moving you around tonight, depending on how things go. When it looks like a good match up, I’ll tap you instead of Zach. Be ready for a quick line change.”
Zach Clarkson was the centerman for Florida’s first line and was expected to take the face-offs against Patterson. Zach was an amazing player and a top scorer during the regular season. But Sebastian knew why Theo tapped him. Zach was an offensive player at heart. He would try to outplay Patterson with the puck. He was unlikely to win
that battle.
Sebastian, on the other hand, was flexible. If the line changes allowed him to match up with Patterson, he would be an unshakable shadow. He wouldn’t even look for the puck. Play the man meant more than shadowing and crowding the opponent. It was anticipating the movements and frustrating the player. It meant pinning him to the boards at every chance. It meant entangling sticks and cutting angles so there wouldn’t be a single solid contact with the puck. It meant shutting him the fuck down.
Theo didn’t have to spell this out. Because the thing Sebastian learned about himself while playing with the Thrashers was that he didn’t need to be a superstar offensive forward. Garbage goals scrambling in front of the net gave him as much joy as a spectacular over-the-goalie deflection. Stopping an offensive surge was just as important as leading one.
And this? Putting the competitor’s arena to sleep because their hotshot scoring machine couldn’t take two strides with the puck? That would be hella fun.
The crisp arena air fell on his face and seeped into his body like a balm when he started the pre-game skate. The first game of the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs. Holy shit.
He was nervous but he was also damn happy. He remembered what Jaya said—Don’t lose track of what you love about the sport. Remember your joy. Stoke your passion. Give all of yourself to what you love. That was hockey. But that was Jaya too, for him. Even if she didn’t know it.
It was a fast game. The first period was a blur of whizzing bodies and flying sticks. Both sides were feeling each other out, pushing and prodding but not quite nailing their set plays. A respectable number of shot attempts from both teams, but the period ended with a 0-0 tie. Sebastian stayed the course of his role as a second-string centerman. He didn’t have his chance to play against the first line because Zach was doing great.
The second period was an entirely different story. Somehow, the first intermission messed with Florida’s flow. Noah might have contributed to the problem. He was frustrated about not having his usual defensive partner and was extra critical of everyone in the locker room. As team captain, he was allowed to air grievances and demand attention. But it landed flat that night.
Frustration festered into uncertainty. And that mindset, more than anything, led to mistakes.
They were down 3-0 in the second period when Sebastian got the tap. From that point onward, every time Zach took the face-off against the first line of Columbus, he traded his shift with Sebastian. Not being the home team, Florida had to find their matches on the fly.
So, Sebastian did his thing. Stayed physical with offense and tenacious with defense. And Patterson, who assisted in two of Columbus’s early goals, hardly touched the puck for the rest of the game.
They still lost, though keeping their opponent to three goals was a win in his books. Knowing they could shut down a speedy, pesky team like Columbus was reassuring. This was the first of a whole round of matchups. Figuring out your opponent was part of the big picture.
Still, the press conference was predictably humiliating. Coaches and players were lined up on a podium and asked about all the things they could have done better. Sports reporters were a funny tribe—full of adoration but quick with criticism.
He was ready to wrap this up and go to the pre-arranged meeting with kids from the Hockey-For-All program. The coordinator who distributed the tickets told him that a few volunteers went with the kids. One of them was Jaya. The sooner he was out of the press room, the sooner he would see her.
One of the reporters singled him out. “This Columbus team isn’t showing any signs of losing their offensive edge, even if you did keep Patterson tied up for much of the third. What do you think Florida needs to do differently?”
“Trust each other and build off our confidence from the last series. There’s still a lot of hockey ahead, folks,” Sebastian answered.
“Sebastian, can you talk about the Hockey-For-All kids attending tonight?”
The question came from the back of the room. The reporter wasn’t from a national sports news outlet. He recognized the blonde woman from when he was with the Thrashers. She was a local reporter who covered a lot of “feel-good” stories.
“Thanks for asking. Yes, I wanted to use this opportunity to remind everyone that hockey isn’t just a sport. It can be a way to strengthen a community and help give kids confidence and opportunities. Hockey-For-All is a program run by local volunteers, serving underprivileged communities with free skating lessons, donated equipment, and most of all, access to great mentors and coaches. I was able to put aside a handful of tickets to donate and I challenge NHL players everywhere to donate a portion of their tickets—or better yet, a portion of their charity contributions—to worthy programs like it.”
As soon as they wrapped up the press conference, Sebastian went to the arena lobby. One of the equipment managers brought him in front of a small group of kids and a few adults.
Immediately, he knew she wasn’t there. It was like a punch in the gut, made worse because he had to keep his face from collapsing in disappointment. Handshakes and pictures. Yada, yada. More handshakes and pictures. He kept his smile pasted on, even as every word of gratitude just blended into gibberish. Yada, yada.
“Why didn’t you score tonight?” a pudgy kid about ten asked Sebastian.
“Scott, that’s not very nice,” one of the chaperones said.
“It’s fine,” Sebastian answered, grateful to be jarred out of his inattentiveness. “It’s a good question. Hockey isn’t just about scoring. You have to be responsible by helping your teammates. I tried to support other scorers although you’re right, Scott, I could have done a better job of that too.”
“I think you’re cute,” another kid said. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Dana!” one of the adults reprimanded even as the group laughed.
He choked down his amusement. “Why are you asking, Dana?”
“Maybe I can be your girlfriend.” A bunch of snickering and guffaws from her hockey companions made her scowl.
“You’re a bit too young for me, but you’re such a pretty girl and I bet a great hockey player. You’ll have the guys lining up to be your boyfriend in no time.” Her beaming face was contagious. Sebastian felt warmed by the kids, even if he continued to feel unsatisfied with the night.
Soon, he said farewell to the group and was led back to the locker room by arena staff. Grabbing his personal items, he called up a car to take him back to the hotel.
No doubt, the disappointment of not seeing Jaya contributed to his exhaustion. Still, there was some comfort in the faces of those kids and in knowing he gave a shout-out for a worthy cause. And even if she wasn’t there, she knew about it. She had to, because the Hockey-For-All organizers assured him that she was invited.
It wasn’t lost on him that even if physically absent, she was always somehow with him in spirit. Either as someone he spoke to in his deepest thoughts or someone who helped him focus efforts in the right direction. He wished he could tell Jaya how much he learned from her, how much she inspired him.
Another time. There would be another time, right? There had to be. Though part of him knew it would be easier if he could just be done waiting. Except, of course, he would never be done waiting, if that’s what she needed.
So, it was with numbed resignation that Sebastian decided to head to his room instead of hanging out with other players over dinner or a drink. Tending to disappointment in private was exactly what room service was for.
He walked down the hallway towards his room. In a flash, he realized the air felt different—heavy and charged—compared to when he left earlier that day. Then, he knew.
Because just like every other time he walked into a room with Jaya in it, Sebastian felt her before he saw her.
CHAPTER 23
She stepped away from the sitting alcove of the hotel’s hallway to meet Sebastian as he approached his room. When he looked at her, a mix of reactions crept across his face in quick s
uccession. Amazement. Curiosity. Confusion. Pain. Hope. And then a mask of blankness that wiped all of the emotions away.
More than anything, that blankness descending on his handsome face brought the surge of courage Jaya needed to step closer.
“Hi, Sebastian,” she said softly.
“Hi,” he answered cautiously, as if he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “What are you doing here?” he managed to mumble, looking around them. It almost made her laugh at how unsure he was. Or cry. It was a toss-up.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“It’s late,” he said and then squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as if sifting through a range of phrases that would make sense. “I mean yes. Yes, we can talk.”
“It won’t take long. Do you want to go to the hotel restaurant? Or a walk?” she offered.
He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together as if embarrassed. “I can’t move.” He said it as a matter of fact, so honest, and so Sebastian. A small sound came out of her. She suspected it was spurred by affection.
“In that case, maybe we should just sit somewhere close. What do you think?”
He nodded but didn’t move, so she slipped his hotel card off his grasp and unlocked his door. Her hand was on the handle as the green light flashed. She pushed down to feel the latch release but didn’t open the door. Not till he told her it was OK to enter.
She looked up at him. Sebastian was staring at her with that mask of blankness again. But it was cracking as emotions creased his forehead and his masculine nose flared ever so slightly. She felt his heat and the sheer bulk of him against her body. Not touching, but searing nonetheless. She realized it was her own heartbeat that drummed at a speed even faster than his breathing.
Suddenly, he put his hand over hers and spoke huskily. “No, stop. If you’d rather go downstairs, let’s go downstairs. Don’t open that door unless you want to.”
That’s all she needed to hear. She pushed it hard and looked up at him to declare “I want to” before strolling in.
He followed and the door slammed behind him. They stood in the darkness. He kept his distance, waiting for her to find a chair, aided only by the city lights cast through the window. She sat.
The Love Campaign (Romantic Revelations Series Book 1) Page 26