Page 94 of Rookie Move
7 DAYS BEFORE THE NHL TRADE DEADLINE
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK
TOP TEAM HEADLINE:
“Bruisers Look Forward to Road Trip and Redemption in the Midwest”
—New York Post
Georgia was probably going to lose her mind.
She’d stumbled through the past couple of days waiting for the other shoe to drop. NHL trades often happened quite quickly. There may be only a day or two between the initial interest and signing. The athlete was never given any notice. One minute he’d be lacing up his shoes for a session in the weight room and a few minutes later he’d have to throw a few essentials into a bag and leave the building. It was brutal, but it was all part of professional sports.
Whenever her phone rang, she dreaded answering it. And every time Becca came into her office, she expected her friend to bring bad news.
“Are you mad at me or something?” her roommate finally asked. “Every time I see you today, you look at me like I ran over your puppy.”
“No! I’m good.”
Becca gave her the side eye. “All right. I came to ask if you wanted to grab burritos with me for lunch.”
“Great!” she said with false cheer. “I’ll get my coat.”
The following morning featured a yoga class, and Georgia ran in at the last second, scanning the backs of everyone’s heads, steeling herself against the possibility that Leo would be missing.
From a corner she hadn’t checked yet he turned around to meet her gaze. Busted. She braced herself for his look of disappointment or irritation. But he only winked.
Weird.
Ari started them off with a guided meditation. Georgia closed her eyes and tried to concentrate.
“You are sitting on the beach, on a warm, breezy day,” Ari began. “The waves are lapping onto the sand in a soothing, rhythmic way that matches your breathing. Focus on your breath. Allow your breath to find its natural, unhurried pace. Let the ocean sync with your body. There is peace between you and the world...”
Georgia’s eyes snapped open. Her father wasn’t in the room. She flicked her eyes back and forth, double-checking. Where was he? On the phone to Vancouver?
“When you breathe in, it is clean, salty air. When you exhale, you rid yourself of worry and anguish.”
No, Vancouver is three hours behind. It’s five in the morning there.
At this rate, she’d make herself insane before West Coast business hours. And she hadn’t breathed out a single breath of either worry or anguish, damn it. The hour passed slowly. Waiting on bad news was lonely work.
After class, Becca squeezed her elbow. “I’m going to Ohio with the team tonight. Nate is flying in from Silicon Valley to see the game.”
“Oh,” Georgia said, still too caught up in her own misery to really hear whatever Becca was saying.
“Look,” Becca said suddenly, grabbing Georgia by both shoulders. “I’m sorry to do this, buddy, but it’s time Istaged an intervention. I’m calling an emergency meeting at noon today,” she said.
“Wait, really?” Georgia squeaked. “For who?”
Becca’s eyes grew round. “You and me! That’s who.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a freaking zombie and it’s driving me insane. Be at the usual meeting spot. Noon sharp.” Becca marched off to start her work day, leaving Georgia alone with her worries.
Three hours later, Georgia entered the nail salon and made her way to the back, where Becca waited in a pedicure chair. “Did you pick your color?” her roommate asked.
Georgia held up the random bottle of pink polish she’d chosen at the front desk. She didn’t care as much about nail polish as Becca. But in this neighborhood, there were very few places they could go at lunch without fear of being overheard by others in the organization. The nail salon was a safe place to gossip. None of the Brooklyn Bruisers would be caught dead in here.
