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Lynn’s worries about Sylvester Armstrong’s sense of entitlement were unfounded. He was blunt and forthright and knew what he wanted and needed, but was also polite and professional.
The lack of drama with her celebrity guest only gave her time to stew over the ongoing drama with her recalcitrant lover.
She hated being wrong, but she had to admit she’d handled Benjamin badly, underestimating his deeply ingrained belief in his own failures. While she tended to gloss over her mistakes, move on as quickly as possible, he obviously felt his own errors more profoundly, even obsessed over them.
Well, this was one mistake she wouldn’t ignore. She needed to talk to him as soon as she found the time.
She stood beside Brewster and watched Armstrong charm the young players. He regaled them with stories of his triumphs while modestly including anecdotes of when things didn’t go as planned. His patter was practiced and polished and she had to respect his skill.
After the first searing glance they’d shared, Benjamin had kept his attention on their guest, his expression noncommittal and detached. On the other hand, her own gaze constantly made its way toward him. Never once did she catch him looking at her.
Frustrating, irritating, bullheaded man.
After Armstrong finished his casual but prepared speech, he circled the room, speaking to each player individually. This wasn’t the appropriate place to have a discussion with Benjamin, and he appeared to want her to keep her distance, but she should at least say hello. Maybe she could show him without words that things weren’t over, that she wanted to fix what was broken.
And maybe he’d ignore her. She’d hurt him badly, and he didn’t look ready to talk.
As she dithered, Brewster called across the room. “Benny. Can I see you for a minute?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the hall outside.
He wound his way through the loose scrum of players. “Of course.” Without a glance at Lynn, he preceded Brewster out the door. It closed behind them with a note of finality.
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“CAN WE GO TO YOUR OFFICE?” Brewster didn’t wait for a reply but headed to the room two doors down the corridor.
Benjamin followed. It was a relief to be away from Lynn’s penetrating gaze, but it was rarely a good thing when Brewster wanted to chat. “What’s going on?”
Brewster waved him in and shut the door behind them. “We won’t be going public with this until the regular season ends, so keep mum. But you need to know now.”
The room shrank. Benjamin heaved air into his lungs, let it out slowly. “Know what?”
“I’ve sold the Canyon Cats. The league still needs to approve the deal but it’s done. Next season the team will be in Woodbury, Minnesota.”
Benjamin reached behind him, found the edge of his desk, and lowered himself onto it. “You sold the team?”
Brewster nodded. “I’m getting out of junior sports. Need the capital for other projects. I had a different plan at the start of the season, but then this offer came along.”
By different plan Benjamin assumed he meant sabotage the team to lower attendance and get out of my contract. His molars ground together and he pressed his lips tight. Confronting Brewster about that now was pointless. This news went a long way to explaining his change of heart a few weeks ago. He would have wanted them to succeed in order to get the best price he could.
Benjamin couldn’t regret the wins. Every point had kept his dream of reaching the championships alive. His mouth was so dry he had to work saliva into it before he could speak. “What about the staff? What happens to us?” Levi may have been a thorn in his side all season, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see the man lose his job. And unlike Avril and Ryan, who were only in Prince George because of their careers, he’d been born and raised in the town. It was his home, the Canyon Cats his passion.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about, Benny.” Brewster crossed his arms over his wide chest. “The new owners are open to keeping you on. Say they’ve been impressed with what they’ve seen so far.”
Not even Brewster’s use of the hated Benny could distract him from the import of his words. You. Not Avril or Levi or Ryan. Just Benjamin. Instead of relief, all he felt was the heavy weight of guilt sinking lower on his shoulders, followed immediately by an even more breathtaking conclusion.
This was exactly what Lynn had worried about—that his career would tear them apart. That he would have to make the choice between her and Oscar and proving himself as a coach.
Was this a sign? Did this opportunity, coming so close on the heels of her challenge, signal he wasn’t meant to be with Lynn? With Oscar?
He wanted to vomit.
“Don’t think you’re out of the woods yet.” Brewster’s gruff voice pulled him back from the whirling pool of doubt and confusion. “They want results before they start any discussions.”
Results could only mean one thing. He clutched the knot of his tie and wiggled it, trying to ease the tightness in his throat. “If we don’t make the playoffs, I don’t get the job.”
“It’s not quite that simple, but in general, yes. Also, they want to meet you. Tonight.”
The shocks were coming hard and fast. Benjamin blinked away dizziness. “Tonight? They’re in town?”
“Two of them. It’s a consortium, but the major shareholders are here. Dinner tonight, and of course they’ll be in the owners suite tomorrow and Saturday.”
“I have plans.” He couldn’t let Lynn down. She’d hate him enough once she learned of the sale.
“Change them. But remember, this is all confidential until we make the announcement.” Brewster pulled open the door. “You have one chance to keep your job, Benny. Don’t screw it up.”
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LYNN GLANCED AT THE clock on her phone. Brewster and Benjamin had been gone for several minutes but she couldn’t wait for them any longer. It was time to get Armstrong to his next event.
“Excuse me.” She tapped the elbow of the player in front of her. Her head barely reached his shoulder, but when he looked at her his chin was covered in pale fuzz, his cheeks rounded with youth. God, they were just babies. “It’s time for Mr. Armstrong to go.”
Obligingly, he nudged the player next to him and a way opened to the centre of the circle. Armstrong nodded at her approach and wrapped up whatever he’d been saying.
“It’s been great to meet you all.” He clapped shoulders and shook hands as he wound through the throng, moving with purpose but no obvious haste. “I’ll be watching from the stands tomorrow night, wishing I was out there with you.”
Moments later they were in the corridor under the bleachers. He plucked his phone from the inside pocket of his suit and flicked his thumb over the screen. “The Rotary luncheon is next, right?”
“Yes. Then the public skate followed by an autograph session.” Everything was laid out in a precise schedule that allowed for the bare minimum of delays. “At seven the winning bidder will meet you for dinner.” Armstrong had allowed himself to be auctioned off as a fundraiser for the local hospital.
“You’re coming along, right?” His dimples popped, the silver in his faint scruff of a beard glinting. “Not that I’m afraid to be alone with fans, but conversation can be a little stilted until they realize I put my pants on one leg at a time just like they do.”
“Of course. That was the deal.” She wasn’t immune to his charm, but preferred Benjamin’s true modesty to Armstrong’s practiced humbleness. Mind you, Benjamin’s modesty also irritated the hell out of her, and not only because he couldn’t see the good in himself, the good that was so obvious to her.
She needed to apologize for last night. She’d been wrong to challenge him as she had. He needed support, not criticism. It would take time and privacy, though, and that would be in short supply over the next few days.
“Great.” Armstrong’s eyes flickered to her feet and back up again. It was by no means a leer, but it certainly conveyed masculine appreciation. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Behind him, the door to the head coach’s office opened. Brewster appeared, followed by Benjamin. Lynn rocked forward, but halted with one foot in the air when his gaze met hers only for an instant before skittering away. His tie was slightly askew and if anything he looked more tense and brittle than he had in the dressing room.
What had Brewster done now? She knew he was still up to no good, evidence of the last weeks to the contrary.
“It was an honour to meet you, Sylvester.” Brewster’s voice boomed off the concrete walls and floor. He held out his hand and Armstrong shook it. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at the game. As my guest, of course.”
Benjamin halted at Lynn’s side. He kept his back to the other men and spoke quietly, still not looking at her directly. “I have bad news.”
“I got that impression.” She checked to make sure Armstrong and Brewster were engaged with each other and not paying attention. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t look after Oscar tonight.”
That was so far from what she’d been expecting that she blinked in confusion. “What?”
“I have to meet some people. It has to do with the team but I can’t say anything more. Not yet. I have to go to this meeting. I’m sorry.”
“You promised.” She scrambled to think of an alternate caregiver. “You promised.”
“I know.” He hunched his shoulders and dipped his head. “I wouldn’t break it if it wasn’t important.”
More important than Oscar. More important than her. It might be a mild example of what she’d feared all along, but it was still crushing. “Who are these people?” He made a dampening motion with his hand and her temper flared. “Don’t you shush me.”
He shot a worried glance at Brewster. “I can’t tell you. I’m truly sorry.”
“Lynn?”
Biting back the retort burning her tongue, she drew a calming breath and turned to Armstrong in time to see Brewster disappearing at the end of the hall. She hadn’t heard him leave. “Yes?”
“We’re going to be late.” He frowned, tapping his phone against his palm.
“I’ll be right there.” She faced Benjamin. His expression was pinched and tight, but his dismay was worthless to her. “Fine. I’ll deal with it. I’ve got to go.”