Page 91 of Tough Call

Easier said than done, but I did the best I could. Touching his thigh, I whispered, “You too.”

He swallowed audibly. “I’m trying.”

One by one, the powers that be appeared on the screen.

“What’s this about?” Ted McGinn, my boss, peered at us with narrowed eyes. “And why are you somewhere with a player?”

Madars and I both shifted nervously.

I cleared my throat. “We’re on vacation together. We’re…” I took a deep breath as I reached for Madars’ hand. “We’re together.”

Every eyebrow on the screen flew upward.

“Together?” Al, the rep from the legal department cocked his head. “So… you’re in a romantic relationship with a player who’s looking to sign with the NAL? Is that correct?”

In unison, Madars and I nodded.

The various reactions were almost comical. Exasperated sighs. Furrowed brows. Pursed lips. I suspected none of them had woken up this morning thinking they’d have to navigate a quagmire like this.

I shifted on the couch, gripping Madars’ hand for dear life. “We wanted to be upfront about it. Especially now that there’s a contract on the table for Madars.” I glanced at him. “There’s no reason we can’t play our roles in the League ethically and above board, and the League doesn’t forbid a relationship like ours.”

Al straightened. “Huh. I mean, yeah, he’s got a point. The CBA and the rulebook—there’s nothing forbidding a romantic or sexual relationship between an official and a player, so long as they avoid conflicts of interest.”

“It is a conflict of interest,” Derek, the players’ union rep argued. “How can we expect a referee to remain objective if he has that kind of involvement with a player?”

“The same way he stays objective with his brother in the League,” Ted pointed out. “It’s irregular, but it’s doable.”

Derek pursed his lips. “I don’t like it. Especially not when there’s so much egg on the faces of officials after the recent scandals.” He inclined his head. “Ted, can you honestly tell me you’d sign an official with a sibling in the League now? Knowing what you do about some of your people’s extracurricular activities?”

Ted shifted with obvious discomfort. “In light of the scandals, I would certainly scrutinize someone with that kind of relationship more than I have in the past.” He seemed to look right at me. “Sorry, Connor.”

“No, I get it,” I admitted. “With everything that happened—they kind of forced your hand.”

“They did. And I know you had nothing to do with any of it, and you’re the cleanest official we’ve ever had. But you have to understand how this looks.”

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I nodded. “I get it. But you also know me, Ted. You just said yourself I’m the cleanest ref who’s ever worked for you.”

“You are,” he admitted. “But something like this—it’ll make people ask questions.”

“Let them ask questions.” I shrugged with as much indifference as I could muster. “I have nothing to hide.” Holding up our joined hands, I added, “Including him.”

That earned me some uneasy and even annoyed looks. My heart pounded; I knew I was skating on thin ice here, and I just hoped I sounded a lot more confident than I was. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I wasn’t a corrupt referee, and my relationship with Madars wouldn’t affect my ability to officiate. I knew that to my bones.

But I couldn’t lie—I was scared shitless that even one of the men in this meeting wouldn’t agree.

“So what happens now?” Madars asked timidly. “We want to stay on the right side of things with the League. But that means…” He gestured at the screen. “It means the ball is in your court.”

Nods all around.

“We’ll need to do some digging,” Al said. “Make absolutely sure this is fully above board. There isn’t a rule explicitly forbidding it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a conflict of interest. I’m sure you understand that no one wants to interfere with your personal life, but the NAL has to preserve its public image and its legal integrity.”

We nodded, and I hoped they couldn’t hear me gritting my teeth. Yeah, of course they had to preserve their public image and legal integrity. And surely this had nothing to do with the fact that we were not only dating as a player and official, we were two men. For as much progress as the NAL had made in recent years, there was still a lot of room for improvement. There was a reason more veteran players were out than younger ones—because the younger ones were justifiably afraid of rocking the boat and giving their teams a reason to not re-sign them. The veterans, especially the stars, had more clout. Their clubs were more likely to swallow their disgust and re-sign a gay player who was a 100-point fan-favorite superstar than a rookie fourth liner.

Such was the reality of professional hockey in North America.

“We’ll do some research,” the lawyer said. “Discuss the situation—confidentially, of course—with some key players. Then we’ll be in touch with what happens next.”

“Thank you,” Madars said. “You know how to reach us.”