Page 25 of Locke

“Fine,” I mutter.

“And I know when I want to do our first session,” she says, like she’d been carefully building up to this.I look at her, suspicion weighing my brow.“Come to my parents’ house for actual Thanksgiving dinner.The party at Miller’s is appetizers and such.”

I frown and narrow my eyes.“Why?”

“Because I’d like time with you in a casual, easy environment.It’s the best way to get to know someone and with you, I have my work cut out for me.”

“So you want to soften me up with a family dinner?”I ask.

“Possibly.”

“Fine.First session is dinner at your parents’.”

“Great,” she exclaims with a bright smile.“See how easy that was?”

I take a drink and look out over the valley.Beside me, Livia’s refilling the board with quiet efficiency, giving me the space to sit and consider our arrangement.

It’s a good play.I’ll give her that.

She doesn’t make a big deal of the bargain we just struck.She just picks up her glass and tips it very slightly in my direction.

“Tell me more about craft beer,” she says.“I like beer just fine but I’m not a fan of IPAs.Too bitter.But I’m willing to learn.”

And because the valley is quiet and the wine is better than I expected and she has somehow made it so there is nothing here to fight against, I start talking.

Chapter 10

Livia

I’veworkedwithmanyprofessional sports teams in my career, been inside many multimillion-dollar facilities, but I’ve never seen one have a full-service restaurant for its players.

The Blue Line is never fully quiet, even mid-morning when it’s too late for breakfast and too early for lunch.The space itself is astonishing in its décor—high ceilings with matte-black beams running the length of the room, hardwood floors and the centerpiece, almost like a work of art, is the open chef line running down the middle.A gleaming stainless steel station facing outward so you can watch the whole operation—grills throwing heat, wok burners flashing when someone tosses vegetables, flat tops working whatever the morning calls for.At least three chefs on at any given time, which sounds like overkill until you remember there are over a hundred athletes and staff in this building who eat for the health of their job.

The dining floor is fitted with round wood tables to encourage conversation as well as long rectangles for the ones who want to spread out and watch film on their tablets.Banquette seating flanks one wall, deep and comfortable enough that people linger to relax.Alternatively, high-top counters sit along the chef line with built-in power outlets for folks who want to keep working.Digital menu boards rotate through the options—salmon, steak bowls, chicken, turkey burgers—nothing heavy, nothing that’s going to wreck an afternoon practice.

And if you want to take it home, the to-go situation is apparently unlimited, which I discovered on my third day when one of the veteran defensemen walked out with what appeared to be an entire roasted chicken in a paper bag.

TVs are spaced along the perimeter of the restaurant, cycling through game footage and other sports channels.One screen has a gardening program on.The smell of the place alone is enough to make you want to eat even when you’re not hungry.

I’ve claimed a corner booth along the banquette wall, which gives me a sightline to the entrance.The seating is upholstered in neutral linen, deep enough to be genuinely comfortable.I have a coffee in front of me and a mostly ignored yogurt parfait the kitchen sent out without me asking.

Juno drops into the seat across from me and steals a strawberry off the top of the parfait before she’s fully settled.I like that even though we’ve just become friends, she feels comfortable enough with me to pilfer.I would do the same thing.

“Sorry I’m late.”She doesn’t look sorry.“Crosby wanted to talk and Crosby talking is a whole thing.”

“How so?”I ask.

“He’s very deliberate.”She wraps both hands around her coffee cup.“Every word considered with very few wasted.It’s either incredibly sexy or incredibly maddening, depending on the topic.”

I find myself smiling.“Which was it this morning?”

“Fifty-fifty.”She takes a sip.“How are you settling in?”

“Great.”And I mean it.The first few weeks in a new organization can be overwhelming from the learning curve of a hundred small things hitting at once.You’re trying to figure out everyone’s name and navigate the politics you can’t know until you’ve been in the room enough times to start reading them.“This place makes it easier.I’ve never worked somewhere that thought through whether the people in it would feel taken care of.”

Juno glances around the Blue Line with an expression that says she knows exactly what I mean.“Patrick doesn’t do things halfway.I think when the documentary comes out, the public will be shocked by his thoughtfulness and other team owners will scramble to match his energy.”

“I bet.”I chuckle.“Speaking of documentaries, I’ve been meaning to ask you a question.”