Chapter 44 A Deal Worth Making
Harper's Pov,
I could feel everyone watching me, waiting for my reaction.
"No, it's fine. This is amazing. Vancouver's a great opportunity." I forced myself to smile. "You should totally do it."
"It's 4 hours away."
"That's nothing. We can make it work."
"Harper." He grabbed my hand. "I'm not taking a job in another city without talking to you about it first. We're in this together, remember?"
"It's your career—"
"And you're my life. So we talk about it. Together. Before I make any decisions." He pulled me onto the couch next to him. "Besides, Marcus said they want to talk. That doesn't mean I'm taking it. It just means I have options."
"Options are good," Maya said. "Options mean you're not desperate. And not being desperate means you can negotiate from a position of strength."
Crew's phone rang again. Different number this time.
"It's Morrison," he said, looking at the screen.
"Don't answer," I said immediately.
"I should probably—"
"Don't. Make him wait. Make him sit with the fact that you have other options now." I took his phone and set it face-down on the table. "He can leave a voicemail."
The phone stopped ringing. Thirty seconds later, it buzzed with a voicemail notification.
Crew played it on speaker.
Morrison's voice came through, tight and professional: "Crew, it's David Morrison. I'd like to schedule a follow-up conversation about your contract situation. Please call me back at your earliest convenience. We may have some room for negotiation on the terms we discussed."
The message ended.
Maya laughed. "He's panicking. Vancouver calling you scared him."
"How did Vancouver even know I was available? I told Morrison this morning."
"Because the league is a small world and GMs talk to each other constantly. Morrison probably made a call trying to gauge your trade value and Vancouver jumped on it." Maya pulled up a hockey news site. "Look, it's already on Twitter. Someone leaked that you're unhappy with the Titans and exploring options."
She showed us her screen. Sure enough, there was a tweet from a sports reporter: Sources say Crew Lawson is seeking a trade from the Titans. Multiple teams reportedly interested. Story developing.
"This is insane," Crew said. "Two hours ago I thought I might be done with hockey. Now I have teams calling me and Morrison wants to negotiate."
"That's what happens when you refuse to let people devalue you." Maya closed her laptop. "Crew, you just learned the most important lesson in professional sports. The second you're willing to walk away, they realize they need you more than you need them."
Crew looked at me. "Are we really doing this? Negotiating with multiple teams, possibly moving cities, starting over?"
"I don't know. Are we?"
"I want us to decide together. This isn't just my life anymore. It's ours." He squeezed my hand. "So what do you think? Do I call Morrison back and see what he's offering? Or do I tell Vancouver I'm interested and see where that goes?"
"Call Marcus," I said. "Tell him you want to hear what Vancouver's offering. And then call Morrison and tell him if he wants to keep you, he needs to make a better offer that doesn't include hiding me."
Crew smiled. "You sure?"
"I'm sure. You deserve to play for a team that values you. And if that team is in Vancouver, we'll make it work."
"We'll make it work," he repeated. Then he kissed me and pulled out his phone to call Marcus back.
And just like that, everything changed again.
But this time, we were changing it together.
….
Crew called Marcus first and put him on speaker so I could hear.
"Marcus, it's Crew. Harper's with me. What's Vancouver actually offering?"
"$7.5 million per year, three-year contract. They want you as a top-six forward, not a fourth-line grinder. Full medical support including pain management specialists who work specifically with athletes in recovery. And get this; their GM specifically said they don't give a shit about your personal life as long as you show up and play clean." Marcus paused.
"Crew, this is a better deal than what the Titans are offering you in every possible way."
"Except it's in Vancouver."
"Which is 4 hours from Seattle. You could drive it on off days if you wanted to. It's not like they're asking you to move to fucking Florida." Marcus's voice got more animated.
"....And honestly? Getting out of Seattle might be good for you. Fresh start, new team, city that doesn't know your history. You'd just be Crew Lawson the hockey player, not Crew Lawson the guy who overdosed and dated the controversial girl."
Crew looked at me. "What do you think?"
"Well, I think you should hear what they're actually offering before you decide anything." I said.
"Smart woman," Marcus said. "I'm setting up a call with Vancouver's GM for tomorrow morning. In the meantime, don't talk to Morrison. Let him sweat."
"He already left me a voicemail wanting to negotiate."
"Good. That means he's worried. Keep ignoring him. The longer you wait, the better offer he'll make." Marcus laughed.
"Crew, you just played this perfectly. You told them to fuck off, immediately got interest from another team, and now Morrison realizes he's about to lose you. This is exactly how negotiation is supposed to work."
After Marcus hung up, Crew just sat there staring at his phone like it might have answers written on the screen.
"You're really thinking about leaving Seattle," I said.
"I'm thinking about leaving a team that treats me like a PR problem instead of a person." He set his phone down. "But yeah, leaving Seattle is part of that."
"What about your NA meetings? Your sponsor? You've been building a support system here for the past thirty-two days."
"Vancouver has NA meetings too. And Mike said I could call him anytime regardless of where I am. Recovery isn't location-dependent, Harper. It's about doing the work no matter where you are."
"But starting over in a new city while you're still early in recovery—"
"Is scary. I know. Everything's scary right now." He pulled me close. "But you know what's scarier? Staying somewhere that makes me feel like I have to hide parts of myself to be acceptable. That's what got me addicted to pills in the first place. Hiding pain, hiding vulnerability, pretending I was fine when I wasn't."
"So Vancouver feels less scary than staying here?"
"Vancouver feels like a place where I could just be myself. Play hockey, go to meetings, love you publicly without it being a scandal." He kissed my forehead. "But I'm not making this decision alone. If you don't want to move, we'll figure something else out."
"Crew, it's your career—"
"And you're my life. Stop acting like those are separate things."
The pizza arrived and Maya paid for it while Crew and I sat on the couch trying to process the fact that in the span of two hours, everything had shifted from him potentially being fired to him potentially moving cities for a better opportunity.
"So," Maya said, setting the pizza box on the coffee table. "Are we moving to Vancouver or are we negotiating with Morrison?"
"We?" I looked at her. "Maya, you just quit your job. You're not moving to Vancouver."
"Why not? I'm unemployed, you're broke, Crew might be changing teams. Why not have an adventure?" She grabbed a slice of pizza. "Besides, Vancouver has great PR firms. I could find work up there easily."
"You'd actually move with us?"
"Harper, you're my best friend. You think I'm letting you move to another country without me?" She took a bite. "Also, Vancouver's technically not another country. It's still Canada but close enough to visit Seattle whenever we want. Best of both worlds."
"This is insane," I said. "Yesterday Crew was in rehab. Today we're talking about moving to Vancouver."
"That's what happens when you stop letting other people control your narrative," Maya said. "You start writing your own story. And apparently your story involves Canadian hockey teams."
Crew's phone rang again. Morrison. Again.
"He's persistent," Crew said, watching it ring.
"Let it go to voicemail again," I said. "Make him wait until tomorrow."
"Harper's right," Maya agreed. "The more desperate he gets, the better offer you'll get. Basic negotiation tactics."
The phone stopped ringing. Another voicemail notification.
This time Crew didn't play it. He just turned his phone face-down and grabbed a slice of pizza.
"You know what?" he said. "I'm not thinking about Morrison or Vancouver or any of it tonight. Tonight I'm eating pizza with my girlfriend and her best friend and pretending like my life isn't completely up in the air right now."
"Sounds healthy," Maya said.
"My therapist would be proud."
We ate pizza and watched terrible reality TV and for a few hours, it almost felt normal. Like we were just three people hanging out instead of three people whose lives had been turned upside down multiple times in the past three months.
But around 10 PM, Crew's phone started blowing up.
First Marcus. Then his teammate Ryan. Then another teammate. Then a number he didn't recognize.
"What the hell?" Crew picked up his phone and scrolled through the notifications. "Why is everyone calling me?"
Maya pulled up Twitter on her laptop. Her eyes widened as she stared at the screen.
"Oh," she said, her voice dropping low with surprise. "I can see why.”