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Thankfully, with it being the end of summer, I didn't need to place a massive food order every week, but it meant a little less with the sponsorship deals. This was when I could focus on my real career: social media content creator.
I always liked to get the food order done first, which also meant going over the nutrition plan and deciding what things the boys would actually eat during the week. As I peeked into the fridge, I noticed Spencer's cologne. He always seemed to drench himself in that pine scent.
I turned around to face Spence. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. There were days I regretted taking on the job as his personal assistant since it forced me to be so close to him and yet forever in the friend zone. It sucked.
Despite being only five foot ten, he was almost always the center of attention. Part of that was because he didn't shut up, especially on the ice. Then again, him not knowing when to shut up was the main reason why he needed my help. He used me more as a social media manager to keep him out of trouble off the ice more than as a life organizer, unlike my brother.
He held up a piece of paper. "I got that statement for you."
I shut the fridge and snatched the piece of paper from his hands.
His handwriting was tiny and barely legible, but since I'd been working with him for years, I didn't have any issues reading it.
I want to apologize for my recent actions against Anastasia Schmetinova and Jaxson Smith. Admittedly, I went too far. I respect Ms. Schmetinova's reffing and have only been an asshole toward her when Smith was present. I saw that Jaxson Smith was interested in her early in the game, and my attempts to get under his skin got the better of me. I shouldn't have said anything that night in Pittsburgh, but I was still bitter that Smith got the best of me in our previous battle. So I went low again, and it's not something I'm proud of. I've been aligned with the Vancouver Women's Shelter, the Camden County Women's Shelter, and Joseph's House for years. I've tripled my annual check to all three agencies, which will give each organization six hundred thousand this year. I also plan to work with our team's therapist to make sure I don't do something like this again. I will still be an agitator on the ice, but I don’t want to take it off the ice.
I smiled. It was a damn good statement. Not too polished but genuine. It was why I insisted on him writing his own letter.
"That's good. We can work with this."
Chapter 3
Spencer
Iloved coming in for training camp. Each season was a new chance to go after the Lord Stanley's Cup. For the first time in a couple years, the Legacy had some new life. We got a couple new guys, and we could finally have a chance at going far if everyone clicked.
Carter and I walked into the rink together. For a change, we weren't the first ones there. Two of the cars weren't the usual stuff you would see from our AHL guys, so I was pretty sure that had to include at least one or two of the new guys.
We both headed into the locker room, which still seemed pretty bare. Lutzy would be filling out the room with our gear next week. Thankfully, he had already labeled all the stalls. Our lockers were in the same spots as last year, right in the middle of the room. I loved that Carter and I had our spots right next to each other.
We both chucked our jewelry into the mini-safe and switched into our gym stuff.
From there, we headed into the weight room. While there were lots of clangs from weights hitting other plates, the room wasn't awash with music like usual.
There were two potential rookies at a squat rack, and then there was Spencer Levine, a returning vet, spotting Terry Schubasomething, a new guy that we signed from Sound who was playing for his hometown team, at one of the bench presses.
"Yo, Levine, what the hell? No music?"
The two of us were the team DJs. Although I was the true DJ, whereas the other Spencer just had good music picks.
"No aux cord," he said as he pulled the bar back onto the rack.
Terry sat up and held out a hand. "I'm Scuba."
Both of us shook his hand. Carter continued, "I'm Carter Carmichael. Guys like to call me either Carts or Carmie. This is Spence or Jetski."
Terry's eyebrow went up with my other nickname. "Last name is Suzuki. You know, a jet ski brand. Plus, I'm quick on my feet. I was here first, so I got to use Spence, and he's Spence2.0 or Deuce."
I walked over to the stereo system. It was one of the things that wasn't fully up-to-date at the stadium. It still had CD slots, and there was even a book of CDs sitting on top of the stereo. My mom had the same system, so all music wasn't lost. If the CDs were shit, I would just text Nat to grab an aux cord from my supplies.
The CDs were all unlabeled. Okay, there were labels on them, but they said things like Legacy Jams or Petey's Hockey Hits. That's when it hit me. The reason the sound system was on the ancient side. Our owner still liked to play CDs from back in the day, although you would have thought that he would have upgraded the music by now since his whole family was loaded. I would have thought he would have preferred to listen to something besides CDs.
"Alright. I'm going to give this one a shot. If it sucks, I'll call Nat."
"Who's Nat?" Scuba asked Carter as I inserted the disc into the player.
"My sister and one of the best personal assistants a guy could have. She's willing to help you out with all the shit you don't want to think about when you're traveling. Only rule, you can't try to pursue her."
Scuba snorted as he folded his arms across his chest. "Don't tell me that you're one of those older brothers who refuses to let his sister get laid."
