Page 85 of On the Line
“Let me guess, you’re a football player?”
Mitch snorted. “I could say the same about you! But no, I actually play hockey. Which is why I’m having you drop me at the Knights’ arena.”
“Oh right,” the driver said. “That was going to be my next guess. Who do you play for?”
“Up until about twelve hours ago, the Warriors, but I just got traded to the Knights.”
The driver whistled low. “Shit, man. I’m sorry. How long were you in Detroit?”
“Five seasons,” Mitch told him, his heart squeezing with the memories of his time there.
Faces flashed through his mind, those of his former teammates, his friends. Brent and Berkley.
Lexie.
He winced, and the driver must have caught it because he said, “Sorry, man. It must be hard. I won’t bring it up again.”
Mitch shook his head. “Nah, it’s all good. Just sort of left a mess in my wake. Going to take some time to get over it all, you know?”
The man nodded solemnly. “I get it bro. Being traded sucks.”
Mitch glanced at him questioningly. “You played football, didn’t you?”
The driver laughed. “Donovan Barnes, at your service.”
Mitch’s eyes widened. Barnes had been a six-time Pro Bowl offensive lineman for the Atlanta Falcons for years before he was traded to the Chargers. Two seasons into his stint in LA, he’d taken a bad hit and broken his back. The injury had ended his career.
Mitch couldn’t even imagine, having everything he’d worked so hard for taken away from him in the span of a breath.
“So now you’re driving an Uber for a living?” Mitch asked, unable to keep the incredulity from his voice. “You played fifteen seasons. Surely you’re not strapped for cash.”
Donovan snorted. “Nah, I’m not,” he said. “I have enough that I never have to work again. Plus I coach at my son’s high school. I just like driving. It’s relaxing.”
Driving in LA wasrelaxing? Mitch didn’t press the issue, though it made no sense to him; he simply nodded. “Well hey, more power to you. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t play anymore.”
“Trust me, kid,” Donovan said as he pulled up in front of the Knights’ arena. “That day is coming sooner than you may think. You better figure out a backup plan.”
Mitch wouldn’t, but Donovan didn’t need to know that. Like he’d told Lexie before, he considered real estate. But he wouldn’t give any serious thought to it until the day his career was over, which would hopefully be several years into the future yet.
Jackson was waiting for him on the curb, so Mitch tapped a few buttons on his phone to leave Donovan a large tip, gave him a tight smile, and got out of the Escalade.
“Good to see you, Mitch,” Jackson said in greeting, shaking his hand. “How’s LA treating you so far?”
“My Uber driver was Donovan Barnes,” Mitch said.
Jackson’s eyebrows shot up. “Like…theDonovan Barnes?”
Mitch nodded, still somewhat in shock. As a professional athlete himself, he shouldn’t be starstruck, but he couldn’t help it. “LA is weird,” he said out loud.
Jackson laughed. “There’s a reason they call it LaLa Land,” he said, and led Mitch inside.
“So we’ve got a few contracts for you to sign. You’ll meet with the equipment manager to get your gear squared away. I’ll have the general manager, Dan Boyd, give you a tour of the arena so you two can get acquainted. You’ll also be meeting the Assistant GM, head coach, Vice President, and the head of public relations.”
They walked along the concourse to an inconspicuous elevator door, and stepped inside.
Mitch groaned. “Do we really have to do all of this today?”
Jackson side-eyed him. “Do you have somewhere better to be?”
