Page 7 of The Final Faceoff
“Talk to me, Crawford,” Jacob says on the other side of the line. “What are you thinking? I need to give them an answer soon. You need more? I might be able to get you something somewhere else . . . or maybe not. What if this is as high as we can go? It’s all a risk.”
Of course everything is a risk. I know this. Why do I feel like I can’t breathe?
“I need time,” I murmur, rubbing a hand over my face. “I need to think.”
Jacob is quiet for a beat, then sighs. “Of course you do, but we don’t have much time left to decide. Either you sign here, or you stay with the Armadillos, but remember they already know you’re shopping around. They might not welcome you back with open arms.”
I know that. The plan is not to stay here. I might hate change, but I hate even more that nothing happens with this team.
“New York isn’t bad,” Jacob says after a moment, his tone carefully neutral.
I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to get me to visualize it, to start accepting the move before it even happens.
“Bigger market,” he continues. “More exposure. Good defensive core. They’re building around you. Sponsorships might be better there, easy for me to pimp you.”
I roll my shoulders back, my fingers flexing and tightening at my sides.
New York.
I swallow hard, forcing my voice to stay level. “Give me twenty-four hours.”
Jacob sighs. “You know they want an answer by tonight.”
“I know.”
He hesitates. “Leif . . .”
“I’ll call you later.”
ChapterFour
Leif
Protecting the Crease (and Your Sanity)
After I hang up, I text Hailey right away.
Leif: You up?
Hailey: It’s almost midnight. Of course I’m up. Who do you think you’re talking to?
Leif: A well-adjusted adult with a normal sleep schedule.
Hailey: Rude. Also, incorrect.
Leif: Good. I need a distraction before I overanalyze myself into an early retirement.
Hailey: Still shopping around for the right team?
Leif: Yep.
Hailey: Anything good so far?
Leif: Seven years, $110 million. Highest-paid goalie in the league. Should be excited. Instead, I feel like I’m about to have a nervous breakdown.
Hailey: I mean . . . that’s kind of your brand.
Leif: Fuck off.
