What the Puck!?

ZANIA I continued to stare at the ceiling as my usual morning text notifications pinged from the nightstand. Today, I had to fly to New York and meet with some clients.  While I usually love traveling for my job, I was not looking forward to this trip. I am the  Director of Sales for the southeast region of Hodges & Burns, a marketing agency based out of New York, but they have offices in Dallas, L.A., and Atlanta.  Atlanta is my home office, but I spend a lot of time in New York. I am flying to New York to finalize a deal with Douglas Activewear. They were a new client and difficult to lock down. The team in New York had failed to secure this deal multiple times, so Michael Burns called me to handle it. And I did. The founders of Douglas Activewear wanted me to come to New York and go to a hockey game the night before they signed with us.  While they had sponsorships with some big names in the NBA, NFL, MLB, and even some overseas soccer players, I know they had their eye on being THE name in hockey. Did I know anything about hockey? Puck no. But that wasn’t going to get in my way of securing Douglas Activewear as a Hodges & Burns client.  Plus, I wasn’t going to be the account manager. I just needed to get them to sign the dotted line. Despite my lack of knowledge or passion for hockey, that is not what made me dread this trip.  My dread came from Kyle Hodges, the founding partner of Hodges & Burns. Kyle was the cliche product of wealthy parents.  He went to the best schools, had all the right connections, and started his company with the help of his parents’ money.  Kyle was attractive, intelligent, arrogant, and a complete asshole. Unfortunately for me, he was also a f*****g psycho that has tried to control my life for the last four years.  And in less than 4 hours, I would be boarding a private jet with him to New York…alone. As my phone started ringing, I closed my eyes, wishing it would stop.  I knew it was him calling, and I mentally was not ready for Kyle to invade my morning yet. The phone rang two more times before I reluctantly reached over and picked up the phone. “What took you so long to answer?” Kyle snapped over the phone, “And why aren’t you responding to my texts?” I closed my eyes as I could hear children screaming in the background. I didn’t like children in general, but listening to them screaming in my ear along with my boss at 7 in the morning made me dislike them more. “My phone was on DND, and my alarm wasn’t set to go off for another 30 minutes,” I grumbled into the phone.   “Why is your phone set on DND? What if one of your clients needs to reach you? And why is your alarm set for so late? You have a flight soon.” Kyle barked into the phone.  I didn’t respond because, honestly, I didn’t care to.  Wasn’t it enough that I was still dealing with his s**t? Now he wants to berate me hours before a flight with him. “Nia?”  “What?” I could hear him let out a heavy breath. I’m sure he wanted me to ask what was wrong, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I hoped whatever was bothering him was painful.  Hopefully, his d**k would fall off soon, and he would lose his ability to talk…or text. “My kids must have caught something at school because they are all sick, and so is Sarah,” he said with a less-than-subtle note of annoyance in his voice. I shot up in bed.   “I’m not going to be able to go with you to New York. I’m sorry,” he said in a soft voice. Oh. My. God. I jumped on the bed and almost threw my phone in excitement. f**k yeah!  “Nia? Nia? Are you there?” ‘Uh, yes,” I said, trying to compose myself, “I’m so sorry to hear about the kids and Sarah. I can do a zoom call with the clients if you would like tomorrow.” “Maybe. I’ll let you know.  Call me tonight after the game.” he said before disconnecting the call. I stared at the phone in my hand, and I couldn’t even bring myself to be annoyed at his request or the fact that he had just hung up on me. I jumped out of bed, suddenly very eager to get to New York. *************** JASON Gawd…I can’t wait to get out of New York. When I got traded to New York from L.A., I thought I would be happier.  L.A. was wild, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t get into some trouble out there.   I was drafted after my second year of college, and moving to L.A. was more than I could handle at 20 years old.  For four years, I made quite the name for myself on and off the ice. While my numbers were undeniable, my final mistake was sleeping with Luke Davis’ wife. Not only was he the owner of my team, but he also caught us in his home. Getting traded was a hard pill to swallow.  Because despite my numbers being top-notch, my reputation was bottom of the barrel.  Many teams didn’t even want to touch me.  My saving grace was New York. New York had been on a losing streak for about three years, and the owner stepped down to hand the team over to his son.  Bryson Jones was a bit of a playboy himself, but he was also competitive and a gambler.  He was almost too eager to sign me to his team. Four years later, a Stanley Cup, and three high-finishing playoff seasons, it is safe to say Bryson made a good bet. But now here I am at 5 am sneaking out of some girl’s apartment that I met at a club, and I am slightly annoyed with myself.  I thought New York would curb my hunger for reckless s**t, but as I collect the used condoms off the floor, I realize I have been in denial. I’m not saying I am ready to get married.  Hell, I don’t even know if I am ready for a real relationship.  But I do know that I feel some sort of void, and New York isn’t filling it anymore. I head home to shower and take a short nap before I need to report to the rink for a little pregame practice.  We have a game tonight against Minnesota, and then we are on the road for the next week traveling to Toronto, Chicago, and finishing in Atlanta before heading back home. It is a little after 9 when my phone starts ringing.  I try to ignore it, but it is persistent.  “Hello?” I mumbled into the phone without checking the ID. “Why do I keep you as my client?” Mel blurts out.  Mel has been my agent since I was dropped in L.A.  My previous agent had strong ties to Luke Davis, so it wasn’t hard for him to tell me to f**k off.  But Mel was different. She was better.  The way she dealt with my s**t, I knew she more than earned her paycheck. “There are some questionable pictures tagged to you on i********:.  I swear your d**k keeps your name out there more than your hockey skills,” Mel blurts out as I manage a sleepy chuckle. “What do you want, Mel?” I grumble into the phone as I bury my head into the pillow. “I want you to find….” Mel starts before I interrupt her, “I know…find a nice girl and settle down.” “f**k no! I wouldn’t wish you on any nice girl,” Mel laughs.  For a brief second, my feelings feel a little hurt. “I would like you to find a chastity belt and wear it for the rest of the season.  Brands are looking at you. But what family brand wants a man w***e representing their s**t?” “Maybe you should see if Trojan wants to sponsor me.” “Giving a sponsorship deal to someone who probably doesn’t even use condoms and is likely infecting the Tri-City area with STDs would not be a good look for them.” “First off, I do use condoms every time.  You can’t trust these puck bunnies,” I laugh, “Secondly, you know I am clean. So don’t even try me like that.” I can practically hear Mel roll her eyes over the phone. “Don’t get me wrong. I get the appeal of p***y.  What I don’t get is women’s appeal to d**k and yours specifically. But to each their own. Either way, you need to learn discretion. You are pushing 30.” I sat up at the 30 remark.  “Hey! I am 28. Don’t try to age me. And I was discreet. Only one of her four roommates was home when I got there and left this morning,” I chuckled as I started to get out of bed. “Whatever. Get your ass to practice.  I reserved your hotel room for after the game.  Please don’t let me wake up to any crazy stories tomorrow.” Mel sighs. “No promises,” I laughed and disconnected the call. Time to get into the zone.