The NHL Star Is My Patient

Chapter 01 TAKE IT, OR LEAVE IT. Natalie's POV I glanced at my wristwatch, and sighed. Then I rubbed my hands down my pant legs. Just then, the door opened, and a young man walked into the room. “I am so sorry for keeping you waiting this long.” he dropped a document on the centre table, and settled on the sofa facing me. “I had a few things to attend to.” “Oh, it's not a problem.” I forced a smile. “Thank you. Anyways, I'm David Bowie, the sporting director of Dragon Hammers, and I believe you're Natalie, right?” he raised a brow. “Yes, I am.” I replied with a nod of my good. “Good. Although, you were highly recommended by a patient of yours in the past, but can I get anything about your previous working experience? Perhaps, a CV?” he shrugged a shoulder. “Sure.” I opened my bag, took out my CV, and pushed it across the table to him. “Here it is.” “Thank you.” he took it from the table. The room went silent as he went through my CV for a few minutes. I didn't have much time to prepare for the interview. I just grabbed what I could, and rushed down here. “This looks good.” he dropped it on the table, and lifted his face to me. “I believe I can work with this.” “Does that mean I've been hired?” I asked, in a curious tone. “Given the situation of things at the moment, then I'd say yes. You've been hired.” he picked up the document which he came in with, and turned a few pages. “However, I'll let you know what we need you to do exactly.” “Alright, I'm listening.” I said. “One of our stars suffered a major injury two weeks back.” he explained, still turning the pages of the document. “Although he has undergone surgery, but we need him back as soon as possible.” “As soon as possible?” I narrowed my gaze. “Yes. As soon as possible. And here's his profile.” he lifted his face, and handed me the document. “I will give you a moment to go through it while I make this call.” “Alright.” I received it from him. He got up from the couch, and walked to a corner in the room to make the call. On the other hand, I looked at the document in my hand. Going through the profile, my heart sank as I saw the name. “James Caldwell?” I muttered under my breath, and moved my head from side to side. “You've got to be kidding me.” I'm not saying it's not possible. But chances that the team had another player whose name happened to be James Caldwell would be really slim. But if that were the case, if it happened that there was really another player bearing the same name — James Caldwell in the team, then that would put my mind at ease. However, I wasn't entirely sure that there was another player with the same name in the team because I didn't have the luxury of time to look at the team's sheet before leaving home even though I'd planned to do so. But then, I only knew of one James Caldwell — my late brother's best friend. “Are you done yet?” David's voice broke in on my thoughts as he settled on the couch. “What do you think?” “James Caldwell?” I arched a brow. “Yes, that's his name.” he said. “Is there something wrong?” “No, no t-there's nothing wrong.” I said, swallowing hard. “You sound like there's something wrong.” he said, looking at my face. “If we're going to work together, then you need to be open with me.” “Yeah. I just thought if there was another player bearing the same name.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, I know it's not possible. But is there?” “You mean, bearing James Caldwell too?” he asked. “Yes.” I nodded. “Is there?” “No, there isn't.” he shook his head. “There is only one James Caldwell not just in this team, but in the entire league.” While he spoke, I looked at James's profile again. Just then, I found a picture of him attached to the bottom of the page. I knew it. He was the same James Caldwell. “Damn it.” I muttered the words under my breath as I scoffed, and clenched my hand into a fist. “Did you just say something?” he raised a brow. “No. No, I didn't.” I forced a smile. “Very well then. So, tell me. What do you think?” he asked. “Uh, well,” I started, staring at James's profile. “This is a serious injury. I mean, we are talking about an MCL sprain here. It would take some time before he fully recovers.” “I know, and I've heard that several times.” he said. “But that's why we're hiring you. We need you to get him fit in a month.” “What?” the words jolted out of my lips on its own accord. “I-In a month?” “Yes, you heard me. In a month.” he nodded. “There is a major tournament coming up, and we need him to play if we're going to win.” “I actually don't think it's possible.” I said, shaking my head. “With what I'm seeing here, it won't be possible to get him ready by then. Besides, his injury record doesn't look so good.” “I don't care what his injury record looks like.” he said with ice in his voice. “Besides, you don't need to tell me about it. I know it. All I am asking you— no, all we're asking you to do is to get him fit to play the tournament in a month.” “I am afraid that won't be possible, sir.” I replied. “If we rush his recovery process then—” “You don't understand, do you?” he said, cutting me off. “The fans love him. If they don't see him play, it's going to affect the ticket sales, and that's going to affect the club. Besides, he's our only chance at winning that tournament. The club needs to win it.” “I get it, but I don't think this is the best way to go about it.” I said, shaking my head. “We might be putting his life in danger if we try to hasten the recovery process. We need to allow the body to heal.” “I am only doing my job by getting someone to make him ready in a month.” he said, looking me straight in the eyes. “And I expect that you'll do your job by getting him ready to play again in a month.” “Sir…” “If you do this, then you get ten million dollars.” he said with a serious look on his face. My heart shook at the words. I swallowed hard. “T-Ten million what?” I stuttered, narrowing my gaze. “You heard me.” he said. “You get ten million dollars if you're able to get him ready to play in a month. But on the condition that you've to live with him.” “Live with him?” I raised a brow. “Why is that?” “We need you to be able to watch him every hour of the day.” he explained. “We need you to monitor his progress, and send daily reports to us. That way, he'll also realize that the club wants him back as soon as possible.” “Do I have to really live with him?” I asked, in a curious tone. “I mean, I can just stay with him for a few hours, and return home. Wouldn't it be possible to do it that way?” “I am sorry, but it won't.” he shook his head. “What I told you is what the club wants you to do, and if you can't, then this conversation is over.” He got up from the couch, and turned to leave. “Wait—”