Page 6 of The Fine Line
I notice Rhett’s easy smile flicker, just for a moment. “That’s something you’d have to ask him.”
“So are you saying you didn’t discuss with Bennett James—your former teammate at the University of Toronto and friend since childhood—the possibility of his role as captain being handed over to you upon his exit?”
“I…” Rhett trails off. “Well—no?—”
“No, there was no conversation between you two?” the reporter pushes again.
“Like you said,” Rhett snaps, his tone suddenly colder, “Bennett’s one of my closest friends. We talk all the time.”
“Right, I’m sure. And were any promises made in those friendly talks?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
The reporter leans in, sensing an opening. “Well, you have to understand, it’s interesting, given your past.”
“My past?” Rhett says, clearly caught off guard.
“Well, it’s no secret that when you were released from Chicago, many figured you wouldn’t be picked up by another NHL team. But you were. By the same team your close friend was making a name for himself with. So, it’s probably safe to say Bennett helped you out, right?”
Rhett’s expression hardens as he shoots back, “Bennett James is one of the greatest players of all time. He’s a leader and an inspiration to well over half the league?—”
“Was,” the reporter interjects.
“Excuse me?” Rhett’s eyes narrow.
“He was all of those things,” the reporter continues, his tone sharp. “But he’s not playing in the NHL anymore.”
And that’s when my father steps in.
“You’re right, Ted,” Dad says calmly. “He’s not. And the Storm will miss him greatly. But we’re an organization focused on the future. And Rhett Sutton is now the leader of that future. The decision to name him captain wasn’t made lightly, but with the consideration of many factors by a select, trusted few behind the scenes. We are proud to have him, and I have every ounce of faith in him.”
The reporter looks like he’s about to ask more, but my father cuts him off.
“Unfortunately,” he says, glancing down at his watch. “We’ve run out of time. We’ve got a practice to get to so we can prepare for our first game of the season tomorrow.”
The room erupts as people scramble to shout last-minute questions, cameras flashing as Dad all but drags Rhett offstage.
I run a hand through my hair as I make my way out of the room, quickly flashing the security pass around my neck to be let into the back halls of the Storm’s headquarters.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and pull it out, a scowl immediately crossing my face when I see the social media notification responding to my post about Rhett’s press conference.
Mick_DavisTX:The obvious choice! A Texas boy since day one and our points leader for years. Bring on the #SuttyEra.
Mick Davis—or as I not so fondly call him, Dick—was my top academic competition. His father played football for the University of Texas, made millions in business, and now holds political office. Mick’s got connections, charm, and a decent sports brain—but he’s no hockey expert.
His focus is scattered—football, baseball, basketball—while mine has always been hockey and hockey alone. He may have finished right behind me in our master’s program, but he’s never been a real threat.
And here, he proves it.
Rhett wasn’t the obvious choice.
He hasn’t been in Texas since day one—though casual or recent fans wouldn’t know that. His rookie year in Chicago has all but vanished, a forgotten blip after nine successful seasons with the Storm.
And he hasn’t been the points leader for years—Bennett held that title for nearly a decade, Rhett just overtaking him last season. But there were other circumstances involved there?—
My phone vibrates once more, and I look down at it to find one of the very circumstances in question.
Addie: Nice viewyou got there.
