Chapter 18

" T he second drill is a two-on-one backcheck support drill. This will emphasize some defensive work, backchecking, and transitioning to offense and supporting the puck to attack the net."

Cori, Joey, and Delta get into position. The first try is a little sloppy, but by the fourth round, it's smooth and seamless. "That's fucking perfect. Now swap with Skarbakka."

I hand off pucks to the players, sending them flying in random directions. They have to be prepared for the biscuit to take a different trajectory. After ten minutes, they get a water break, then come back to practice taking shots on Timber and Manon, our goaltenders. Snapping pucks to them as they go, I skate backward, collecting the ones that were blocked and passing them to the players. I enjoy coaching, it allows me to get in ice time, work on drills, but I have so much more control than I did as a captain. And I like control.

Kendra is sitting in the stands with her head down. She's either looking at her phone or the floor, as if she's avoiding making eye contact with me. Actually, she has made no contact with me since before we left for the Hockey Developmental Center in San Diego.

I furrow my brow at her and turn back to my players. "Okay, this next one revolves around competitive play. I'm going to dump pucks in the corner, you are to battle one-on-one, and then make a pass to the coach.

"If you make your pass, you get an ice cream sandwich out of Whit's personal stash." Whit's head snaps up from the corner, then he shakes it. I found out this week that he's a fiend for ice cream sandwiches. Everybody's got a vice. His is ice cream. Mine is Kendra.

Once we finish and I know I've given out enough ice cream to clear out his cache, I send in Jeanine to work with the players on individual skating drills, and head back to my office to go over some scheduling details. Sitting back in my chair, I type in the password and wait for the screen to load.

"Hey, gotta minute?" Rachel, Vault's production assistant, knocks on my open office door.

"Sure." I smile. "What's up?"

"So, the network wants to do a live interview talking about the show, coaching, and your love life. Only twenty minutes or so, enough for a teaser of what's to come, but I need to go over some things with you because live TV is a little different and has a lot more rules."

"Rachel, I've been doing press boxes and playing on live television since I was younger than you."

I don't even get an eyeroll out of her. "Humor me. We're not talking about games, we're talking about your love life, it's going to feel a lot more personal."

"Okay, let's hear your spiel."

She sits down in the orange padded chair across from me.

"Rule number one, no swearing. The network, and you, will be fined by the FCC before you even finish your sentence. There will be a twenty-second delay in case we need to censor anything, but it would make it a lot easier on everyone if you avoid it altogether."

I recline and thread my fingers together behind my head. "Got it." She places papers down in front of me. I pluck them off the desk and flip through them.

"Those are the questions she'll be asking you. You need to come up with your responses so we can clear them before it airs. Memorize what you're going to say, but you know, don't make them sound rehearsed. Add some extra pauses and use inflection so it sounds natural," she explains. "Kendra's included some suggested safety sentences to give you an idea of what they're looking for."

"I thought this was all about unscripted television?"

" Scoring with Sully is unscripted, the interview isn't. And you're representing the network during this promo. It will be at the news station, they're going to splice it in between the Lakes intermission."

I see. "Anything else?"

"Day of, go easy on the coffee. Wear something comfortable but professional. Avoid wearing anything with a brand name, with the exception of Rogues gear, but keep it simple like a fleece three-quarter zip or something with a collar. Nothing bigger than pocket branding. That sort of thing."

I nod. "Who's doing the interview?"

Her phone dings, and she pulls it from her back pocket to tap out a response to a text message. "They want someone you're comfortable with, so Kendra will be the one asking questions. You do well when it's one-on-one with her, so just pretend there's nobody else around. You've already got your answers, so you don't need to worry about coming up with stuff on the spot like in the confessionals."

When it's one-on-one with Kendra, it feels like there's nobody around.

I nod and she pauses, looking at me knowingly. "A little flirtation is confident, too much and you'll look like a womanizer. Rein it in."

I smirk. Wonder if anyone else has picked up on that. "I'll do my best. Anything else?"

"There's a copy of the questions in your inbox. Kendra needs your answers by Friday so she can critique them before the game."

"Will do." I oscillate in my rolling desk chair, and she stands to leave. "How is Kendra doing, by the way?"

"She's all right, you know, all things considered."

I furrow my brow. "All things considered?"

Rachel hoists the strap of her bag on her shoulder and cocks her head to the side with pursed lips, as if it's obvious. Then she quickly replies, "She just has a lot on her plate right now, she's working a lot. That's nothing new, though."

"Yeah, I've gathered as much."

The last thing I want to do is talk on live TV—with Kendra—about my dating life. Or lack thereof, because so far, every date has been a bust. The only thing worse than going on the dates themselves is talking about them. Sitting one-on-one and discussing other women to the one woman I'm interested in is torture.

I don't want to date all these other women. It's obvious they aren't going to work out, at least it is to me. If people saw what Kendra and I were really like when no one's around, they'd see how great we fit together as a couple. I lean back in my chair, close my eyes, and scrub a hand down my face.

How am I going to get through the rest of this damn show?