A Perfect Trade. Anna Sugden

snatched up the letter, shoving it in his back pocket as his brother walked in.

      “Glad I caught you both together,” Ike said. He slumped into a chair, his expression grim. “Saves having to say all this twice.”

      Tru exchanged concerned looks with Jake. “What’s up?”

      “There’ll be a conference call with all the Cats players tomorrow, but as union rep, I got a preview. I wanted to give you guys a heads-up on what’s going to be said.”

      “Sounds ominous.” Jake leaned forward. “Don’t tell me the Scartelli brothers are moving us to Kansas City.”

      Ike didn’t crack a smile at the old joke.

      Tru’s stomach rolled with uneasiness. “They’ve just changed the GM, what else is...” He broke off. “Crap. They’ve fired Max.”

      Ike nodded. “There are some critical decisions to be made over the next few months—who to pick at the draft, which contracts to renew, who to trade, who to keep—so Callum Hardshaw wants his own man in place ASAP.”

      “Any word on who the new coach will be?”

      “Not yet, but Hardshaw must have a name in mind. He may even have tapped someone already. I’m guessing it won’t be long before he announces Max’s replacement.”

      Which made Tru’s position with the Cats even more precarious. He tried to look on the bright side. “There are a few coaches with good track records looking for jobs. Maybe Hardshaw will choose one of them. The Scartellis want to win, so a veteran coach would make sense.”

      “Yeah. Not so sure about that.”

      The way Ike avoided his gaze made Tru nervous. “Spill, bro. What do you know?”

      “I don’t know anything for sure.” Ike sighed. “The phrasing Hardshaw used about the future of the team smacked of blowing everything up and starting afresh.”

      Jake frowned. “We knew that was a possibility when he was hired. The guy’s known for making something out of nothing. Look at the job he did with Columbus. So, what’s put a bug up your ass?”

      Ike’s gaze swung between Tru and Jake. “Hardshaw said the Scartelli brothers have promised him time to achieve success. They want the Cats to be another Pittsburgh.”

      “You’re kidding. They want us to molder in the league basement for a few seasons in order to get high draft picks, in the hopes that we’ll become a serial Cup contender?” Tru swore. “That’s my career with the Ice Cats done. I’ll be gone this summer. I wish I’d hired an agent before I negotiated my last contract. I might have got a no-trade clause. Then they couldn’t just ship me out to the highest bidder.”

      “Andy will get you a great deal.” Jake crushed his empty can.

      “But it won’t be with the Ice Cats.” What a difference a few years made. From hero to zero. “The last time my contract was up, I was the team’s MVP. The Cats were terrified they’d have to shell out major money if they let me reach free agency.”

      “I told you agreeing to your contract early was crazy.” Ike crossed his arms. “You’d have got way better terms from most other teams.”

      “I was happy to take a hometown discount to stay with the team who drafted and developed me—and to keep playing with you. I was damn loyal to them. Where’s their loyalty to me?” Tru threw his arms up in disgust.

      His brother shrugged. “There’s no loyalty in professional sports. Especially when you’re losing. They only care about the bottom line.”

      “Ike’s right,” Jake said quietly.

      “Doesn’t make it suck any less.”

      Neither Jake nor Ike disagreed.

      When they left a short while later, Tru threw himself onto his couch. His hockey-playing future was looking bleaker by the minute.

      With his current run of luck, he’d end up without a team at all or worse, bussing it in the AHL. Damn it! He didn’t want to play in the freaking minors. He still had good legs and decent skills.

      The room darkened as afternoon turned into evening, mirroring his darkening thoughts.

      Maybe he’d have to resort to playing overseas in Europe or Russia. The money was great, but the other leagues weren’t as good as the NHL. Plus, he didn’t want to become one of those guys he’d always felt sorry for; a has-been, desperately clinging to a career everyone else knows is already over.

      He’d rather walk away from the game than be a laughingstock.

      Can the pity party.

      Jeez. He was going to drive himself crazy if he didn’t get away from his own thoughts. He had to get out of the house. Go to the Plaza. Plenty of options at the mall to keep himself occupied for a few hours.

      Tru leaped up, grabbed his keys and headed out to his car.

      Dealing with the crazy drivers on Route 17 helped blow some of the self-pity from his head, so he was able to walk into the mall with a sense of purpose. He’d check out some stores, grab a bite to eat and maybe take in a movie.

      He was in the sporting goods store, looking at athletic shoes, when his plans went awry. An unfamiliar male voice came over his shoulder.

      “Hey, you’re Tru Jelinek.”

      Tru tensed. He put down the shoes and, plastering on a polite smile, turned slowly to face the speaker.

      A balding guy in an Ice Cats away sweater grinned at him and stuck out a meaty hand.

      Tru shook his hand. “Good to meet you.”

      “I’m Don. This is Dirk.” He pointed at his buddy, whose blue Islanders sweater strained over his beer belly.

      “Thought you’d be on the golf course,” Dirk sneered.

      Tru didn’t point out that the Islanders may have made the play-offs, but they’d been knocked out in the first round by Toronto. It wasn’t worth the aggravation. “Not really a golfer. I like more action to my sport.”

      “Yeah.” Don shot a glare at his pal. “So, Tru, watcha think of the latest rumors about you being traded out west?”

      * * *

      THE SINGLE PINK line confirmed what Jenny had known since yesterday.

      “Damn it.” Half-whispered words caught on a broken sob.

      Jenny had allowed herself a few moments of hope as she’d waited for the pregnancy test, even though she’d known deep inside there was no way she’d get a positive result. The IVF nurse had said there was a tiny chance that Jenny could be pregnant, despite the bleeding, so she should take the test, to be sure.

      Pain stabbed at Jenny’s heart. And in her womb. An aching tightness gripped her throat. The hollow feeling within her was real.

      The test isn’t perfect. Maybe it’s wrong.

      Logic drowned out her desperate inner voice. No mistake.

      Tears welled as reality stamped out the spark of hope. There was no baby.

      Her body had let her down; one more betrayal in her life. She should have known better than to expect anything else. How many more times did she have to be shown for the message to sink in? Good things only happened to good people. To people who deserved them.

      Stop!

      That was his thinking. Douglas Boult’s ranting had no power over her now. His ornate casket was six feet under in the Blessed Peace Cemetery. He couldn’t hurt her, or anyone else, ever again.

      Still, Jenny couldn’t silence the lingering doubt. Had she done something wrong? Questions whirled in her head as she revisited the days since the embryo had been implanted, trying to analyze every action,