Page 98 of Tough Call

What I did know was that shortly after we’d logged on, my boss and Madars’ agent joined us.

“Thanks for meeting with us, gentlemen,” Ted said. “We just wanted to update you on the League’s decision regarding this matter.”

We both nodded. I could barely breathe, and my stomach was knotted six ways from Sunday.

Ted gave a long-suffering sigh. “I won’t tell you boys I’m thrilled about this. A player and an official—that’s not something that’ll go over well. Especially when League officials have already been under so much suspicion lately.”

I gritted my teeth, biting back comments about how maybe if the League had done something about dirty refs a long time ago, it wouldn’t be an issue now. This wasn’t the time to say that, though, so I kept my mouth shut.

Ted scowled, and his shoulders dropped. “At the end of the day, though, I can’t tell you that you can’t have a relationship while you’re both employed by the League.”

My breath caught. Beside me, Madars tensed.

“You…” I cleared my throat and tried again. “You can’t?”

Ted shook his head, his disappointment obvious. “No. And the League can’t do anything to either of you about it so long as it doesn’t interfere with Connor’s ability to officiate fairly.”

“It won’t,” I rasped. “It absolutely won’t. And you know that, because it’s never been an issue with my brother.”

His expression suggested he was skeptical, and that he thought he was giving me just enough rope to hang myself. Fine—he could think whatever he wanted. The bottom line was that Madars and I could both sign with the NAL and we could be together.

My boss went on. “I’ll go on record as saying I don’t like it. But the rules are what they are. There’s nothing any of us can do to prohibit it.” His features hardened. “There will be some conditions, however.”

Madars and I exchanged glances, then looked at the screen and nodded.

“What conditions?” Madars asked.

“Essentially, the same conditions that apply to Mr. Ellis and his brother,” Ted said. “We will ask that he recuse himself from officiating games that will have an impact on Vancouver’s standings.” He paused. “I suppose the matter is somewhat simplified by Mr. Ellis’s conflict of interests only applying to Western Conference teams. Connor, we’ll assign you to East Coast games, and we’ll expect you to use your judgment about recusing yourself from games that will affect Vancouver or Denver.”

I was nodding as he spoke. “I can do that, sure.” I was already well-practiced in that regard, keeping a close eye on standings to make sure no one could even imply that I was deliberately giving Denver an advantage.

“The playoffs could get complicated,” Ted went on. “If your brother and boyfriend’s teams both make it into the postseason, there’s a good chance you won’t be officiating the playoffs at all.”

I fought a wince. “I understand.” I laced my fingers between Madars’. “Obviously I want to make myself available to officiate the playoffs, but not if it’s going to cause a conflict of interest. Or the appearance of one.”

Ted nodded. “All right, then. We’ll be in touch.”

“Madars,” Kirils said, “I’ve briefed Vancouver on the situation, and they’re still onboard with your PTO.” He inclined his head a little. “I suspect there’s going to be a lot more pressure on you to shine in training camp—this won’t be an easy tryout by any means.”

Madars was nodding as his agent spoke. “That’s fine. I was planning to shine there anyway. I want to make this team, damn it.”

His agent smiled. “Well, keep your training up. You’ve still got six weeks before you need to report to camp.”

Madars gave him a mock salute.

“Are the two of you, uh, out on social media?” Ted asked.

We both shook our heads.

“Let’s keep it that way until the ink is dried on the contract,” Kirils suggested. “Once things are official, then I would suggest going public in a very measured way approved by the team’s PR department.”

“And the League’s,” Ted said.

I hated that idea, but if it kept up appearances and got us ahead of any rumors, then… fine.

After that, Kirils and Ted had nothing else for us apart from final warnings about being extra careful going forward. Keeping our noses clean, and all of that.

Then, they were gone. The screen went dark, and I turned to Madars. My own surprise and relief were written all over his face. Without a word, he reached for me and wrapped his arms around me. For the longest time, we just stayed like that, holding on and letting the dust settle around us.