Page 6 of Pucks, Lies, and Sticktape

“Get out of here and think about your career between now and Tuesday,” the coach huffed, leaving them all reeling.

As Matthieu turned, he saw their faces and expressions, and didn’t say a thing. He changed, ignored everyone, and simply left the building. This group of guys wasn’t a family, a team, orfriends. They were coworkers and barely that at times. He felt like he was shoved onto the stage, being told to win an Oscar without being given a script, and the only thing saving him was the memory of having watched this particular play once on television. It was not a warm or welcoming feeling.

Sliding into his car, Matthieu was beyond frustrated and a little disgusted. He was busting his butt to fit in, drinking protein shakes, exercising, heck – he even went vegan for a while with one of the other guys hoping that they could grab a meal together or hang out, but that wasn’t the case. He fell hard off that particular ‘wagon’ with a massive tomahawk steak that gave him indigestion for hours… and gnawed the bone with delight.

“I’m getting a burger,” he muttered, starting his car and waiting for his phone to connect so he could call his agent. “I big ol’ greasy, artery-clogging burger with cheese on it…” he continued, punching the number almost immediately as he backed out of the parking garage.

Thankfully, Fallon answered on the first ring.

“Were your ears burning Matthieu?” Fallon said easily – and Matthieu smiled. Man, Fallon was a fantastic agent… and a flirt. The only problem was that the woman was nearly sixty and a little too crass for his tastes. He liked his girls a lot quieter and a lot less aggressive.

“Nahhh, just wanted to talk to my favorite girl.”

“Please – you don’t have to lie to me. What’s going on? I’m glad you called because I want to run a little something past you.”

“I’m not happy,” Matthieu said bluntly. “I don’t fit in. I don’t get along with the guys. I know I sound like I’m whining or like I’m some brat – I get it – I’m lucky, but I was hoping for more of a team atmosphere, more of a chance to be part of something greater, or…”

“Well, then I’m glad you called,” Fallon taunted and then paused. “How serious are you about a change?”

“I called, didn’t I?”

“Well, I do have an opportunity for you – and it’s immediate. Do you know Dustin Lafreniére from the North Texas Coyotes?”

“I don’t know him – but I knowofhim. Why?”

“Well, he just signed as the backup goalie for a new hockey team that…”

“What?” Matthieu interrupted and nearly rear-ended another car at a stop sign, completely distracted. He turned and pulled into the first parking lot he could – which happened to be a little fifties diner, and he could already imagine the taste of a burger from some old, grease-laden grill. The thought alone had him salivating. “What new team? Why would they sign him as a backup goalie when he’s a starter for the Coyotes?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t get all the details, but I just got off the phone with their manager, and they are eyeingyoufor a starter position as the goalie.”

“ME?” he nearly squawked aloud sounding distinctly like a chicken or a rooster. “Did you say they wantedmeto be their starting goalie?”

“You’d mentor and train with Lafreniére – and he would be your backup on the ice.”

“What’s the catch?” Matthieu asked openly, not hesitating. “There’s gotta be a catch. They want me as a starter? Have they seen me play? I mean, I don’t suck, but I’m sure not as skilled as several other guys and…”

“Matthieu…” his agent interrupted, chuckling. “Of course, there is a catch – which is why I asked how serious you were about this gig.”

“I’m very serious.”

“You must be. You haven’t asked about pay yet.”

“Pay doesn’t matter if I can’t handle the catch.”

“Mature at twenty-five years old… heaven help the female population,” the older woman sighed dramatically in obvious envy. “I wish my first – or second – husband had the sense you seem to have regarding priorities.”

“And the catch?” he reminded her, chuckling. “What’s the catch, Fallon?”

“Are you married, honey?”

“Yes,” he blurted out the lie, distinctly uncomfortable at the sudden change after hearing about Fallon’s other husbands.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed happily, and he could hear the relief in her voice. “Then there is no catch. You can take this offer, and I think you’ll like it. It’s all moving expenses, an endorsement contract, and a nice seven-figure salary per year for the next five years…”

“What?”he did a doubletake. “The catch was I had to bemarried?”

“Yes. Less drama, less problems. You won’t be in the news for all the other immature problems that come with boys, their toys, and too much money… they are only signing married men.”

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