The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 22: Sign

~Ben~

I left Eleanor a note to tell her I had to leave. I considered knocking on her door but feared to wake her up to early especially after the night she had, so I wrote the reason why I had to leave on a piece of paper I found in my room and slid the sheet under her door. I texted my mother to apologize about having to leave without her seeing Ophelia much. I didn't reveal all the facts to my mother not wanting her to start worrying about me for hockey. She told me, on the first night I spent at the house, that she had finally stopped worrying about my career when she heard about the Islanders drafting me. I don't want her to start again. I also texted Olive to tell her that I wouldn't pick up Ophelia at eight this morning, but that Eleanor would come by a little later in the day. She asked why, but I dodged her question by asking about her night with Ophelia.

After hanging up with Connor last night, I immediately started packing up all the things I had brought with me, knowing I would leave most of my stuff behind since my suitcase was at my mother's house. I took a quick shower to get rid of the alcohol and many other party smells that clouded my skin and changed into the black sport pants and white t-shirt I was supposed to sleep in last night. I was out of my room at a quarter to five and in a taxi the hotel manager called for me by a quarter after five. My flight was leaving at six-thirty which left me very little time to wander in the airport. It's only when I was sitting on the plane that I noticed that I didn't sleep at all last night. I was too focused on finishing Eleanor's book to notice, and there was no way I would sleep on the plane.

I landed in New York at 2:30 pm completely exhausted. I couldn't help but yawn every two seconds, something that infuriated Connor so much he made the taxi driver stop at the closest coffee shop he saw and ordered me a large black coffee. He rolled his eyes when I asked for a blueberry muffin but agreed when I told him that I hadn't eaten since the small piece of white bread they served on the plane. I silently ate my muffin and drank my coffee during the taxi ride while I listened to Connor tell me all the things I shouldn't say to the General Manager and his team.

The taxi pulled up in front of the same big building as last time around three pm, but we stayed in the cab for five more minutes because my agent didn't think I looked presentable enough, so he started combing my hair with his fingers but stopped when I slapped his hand away. We got out of the cab after he paid the driver. Connor threw me a transparent bag, telling me to go get changed as soon as we walked in the building. He had brought me black dress pants and a white shirt that probably belonged to him. The clothes were way too big for me, but I was glad I didn't have to face my bosses in sport pants and a t-shirt. I joined him in the same hallway as last time the only difference is that I am sitting down on one of the many provided chairs while Connor paces in front of me. We've been waiting for about fifteen minutes now. I know his career is as much on the line as mine, but I still wish he would sit down because I'm afraid that the back and forth he causes will make me fall asleep.

"Did you drink last night?" he asks, granting me my wish as he stops walking in front of me. I nod, forcing myself to keep my eyes open. I hear him sigh as he sits next to me.

"It was a wedding, Connor. Of course, I drank," I can't help but snap. I take the last sip of my coffee and get up to throw the cup in the trash when the office door opens.

"Gentlemen, please come in," a loud and raspy voice says. I turn around to see a tall man with white hair staring at me with the most serious look I have ever seen. I don't recognize him from the last time I was here, but the other two men I see, when Connor and I walk into the office, I do. The coach, Harrison Bailey, is sitting on the General Manager's right. The newcomer sits on his left and Connor and I sit in front of them. I spot two other men in the corner of the room who seem completely absorbed with the sheets of paper in front of them to notice or care about our presence in the room.