Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
An almost grateful hum is released.
“Most GMs in my position would use this to their advantage. They would let you slip into that cycle, so that when you’re ready to come back, they could toss you into an assistant coach position for a fraction of your worth. The thing is…I’m not most GMs.” My expression and tone deepen in firmness. “I have no interest in playing bullshit games. I know exactly who you are, what you’ve done, what your stats are, and what sort of background you have. Point blank? I want you. And I want you now.”
“What exactly are you looking for, Hennington?”
“Exactly what I said I was when you agreed to an interview.”
“Coach.”
“Head coach.”
“Of the development team I assume.”
“You assume incorrectly.”
There’s no hesitation in his jaw going slack.
“I want you as head coach for the Dalvegan Dragons.”
“Fuckin’…why?!” His disbelief darts him to the edge of his seat. “Yeah, I played in The Show. And yeah, I played on some great teams-”
“Every team you played on went to fight for The Cup every year you were on it. That’s not a coincidence.”
“They all had great coaches.”
“Half of them were great coaches.”
“They were all great teams.”
“Some of them had great players.”
“They all had great leadership.”
“Because they all had you, Blanc.”
“I was never Cap.”
“And a real leader doesn’t need a fucking title to take charge or be there for the boys.”
My counter has him throwing himself back into his seat.
“Just like a real leader doesn’t need the credit or the glory or his name in the first paragraph of every article about his team.” Ignoring the twitching of my stomach muscles unexpectedly grows in difficulty. “That’s what I’m after, Blanc. I not only understand what my dad struggled to see and believe and think about this team, I am prepared to face it. I’m here, not looking to win a battle or a blitz or a campaign. I’m here to win the whole fucking war.”
His chocolate brown eyes widen in surprise.
“In order to do that, it starts with the general,” the hand gesture he receives his direction is welcomed by a small grin, “and is followed by warriors who wanna fucking fight. Now, name your price, so we can sign the papers and move onto our portion of the day that consists of reviewing the haves, the have-nots, the has-beens, and the will haves with the right leader at the helm.”
He grunts a laugh of astonishment. “Just like that?”
“Just. Like. That.”
Bewilderment lingers in Blanc’s expression as he leans to one side of his seat, contemplation doing its best to begin.
Hoping to settle my still squeamish stomach leads me to retrieving the ginger ale.
To my surprise, he speaks up during sip number two. “How much control in shaping am I allotted?”
“Most.” I catch the drop that escaped on the corner of mouth with my thumb. “However, I’m not gonna be like Dad was. I plan to be front and center and hands-on. I have no plans to undermine you—especially in front of the boys—but I’m not gonna just lean back on my skates and assume every call you make is the right fucking call. It’s a checks and balance system. Offense and defense. We do this united or we don’t do it at all.”
He presents me with a slow nod that’s accompanied by a pleased grin and extended palm. “Marigold is gonna be excited we’re moving back to Texas.”
Thrill pierces my gaze, yet I do my best to prevent it from being revealed elsewhere in my demeanor during our shake. “She doesn’t like the cold?”
“Hates it.” He chuckles at the same time our hands fall apart to their respective places. “Plus, she’ll love the idea of taking our kids to the beaches for long weekends, which is how she grew up.”
The mention of children causes a new, more powerful contraction to occur in my stomach.
Nope.
That’s not my gut telling me I’m next.
That those are thoughts I’m gonna be having or plans I’m going to be making.
That’s just…gas.
Clearly, I need to slip back into the bathroom to let one rip.
All the carbonation is just settling like a bitch.
“Should we discuss salary and my second in command next?” Blanc enthusiastically inquires. “I’m—admittedly—intrigued to see who you think should be my number two.”
Hundred bucks says he’s not expecting me to say I have no idea.
My mouth lowers to retort, yet the sound is cut short by the knocking on my office door. Margot doesn’t wait for acknowledgement to pop her face in. “Sorry to interrupt, Hennington; however, medical is on line one, and I know they are an automatic bypass to everything.”
Blanc instantly offers me a moment of privacy. “Why don’t I step in the hall and call Mari? I’ll tell her about the good news in progress, and we can reconvene once you’ve wrapped up? I know how important talks with med can be.”