Perfect Symmetry

The next few days flew by, as I began gathering contact information and photographers and cameramen and studio space. Liz was consistently reminding me to talk to the coaches before making all the arrangements, but I was too skittish to talk to Coach Quenneville and all the other intimidating coaches just yet.

However, a week after making my pitch to Liz, I finally plucked up the courage. It was after a decisive win against division rivals St. Louis, so I was hoping everybody would be in a good mood.

I wasn’t really going to say anything just yet, but I was making my way to the locker room to congratulate the boys when Coach Q came charging out of the dressing room, scaring me half to death.

“Oh, I’m sorry...Ms...” He looked at me expectantly, as if trying to place me.

“Patil, but call me Jazz,” I extended my hand out for him to shake.

He offered me a thin smile. “Yes, I think I’ve seen you around here quite a bit.”

“Viktor Stalberg and I...are seeing each other,” I managed to choke out.

He cleared his throat. Obviously he didn’t like to get involved with his players’ personal lives off the ice.

“Well it was nice to meet you, Jazz; if you’ll excuse me,” he moved to walk past me, but I tried to stop him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I was wondering if I could have a word with you?” I tried to stabilize my voice and sound confident. It sort of worked.

Coach Q’s eyebrows lifted with curiosity as I moved down the hallway, away from the entrance to the dressing room.

“Yes?” he asked suspiciously.

I took a deep breath before starting. “While I may be seeing one of your players, I also work for one of the biggest advertising companies in Chicago.”

When he broke in to ask which one, I told him truthfully and he looked impressed, thank God. “I’m currently working on an anti-bullying campaign and I’m looking for a spokesperson. I really want this to garner national attention, sir, so I talked to some of the players and they seem willing-”

“You spoke to the players already?” his voice was strong and commanding.

I gulped. “Just to a couple – Toews and Stalberg. It was very casual, over dinner.”

“And what did they say?” Coach asked shortly.

I smiled. “They were very interested in being a part of this movement. I want this campaign to capture the attention it deserves, sir. I think it’s a great message, don’t you?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, of course I do.”

“I’m not looking for the entire team, sir. In fact, I’m hoping to get a couple of players from numerous teams across the NHL to be a part of the campaign,” I explained proudly.

“Well first of all, stop calling me sir and call me Joel, especially if we’re going to be working together here,” he declared.

“Together?” I questioned.

“You’re going to need help getting all the coaches on board. I can certainly help you with that,” Joel explained.

I beamed. “How about a meeting tomorrow at my office? There’s no game, and it’ll be an hour of your day, tops.”

Joel smiled genuinely. “That sounds fine. I’ll need to understand exactly how the players will be participating. How does eleven sound?”

I pulled out my date book and flipped through hurriedly.

“Tomorrow at eleven sounds perfect,” I replied, penciling in his name. “Thank you so much, Mr....I mean, Joel. This could really be a great way to spread an important message.”

He nodded. “I agree. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I grinned excitedly and with a wave, I walked into the dressing room feeling extremely triumphant. I saw Jonathan first, pulling on trousers and fastening the buttons. He was still shirtless, but I ignored this and went to tell him the good news.

“Jon!” I called out excitedly.

He turned around to see who was calling him and his face broke into a smile once his eyes met mine.

“Hey, you look jazzed,” he joked.

“Wow, a pun from Captain Serious?” I laughed, “you must be pretty happy about this game.”

“I really am. But never mind that, what’s up with you?” he pressed, brushing my shoulder with his hands.

“I just talked to Joel about the whole anti-bullying campaign and he is totally on board!” I squealed.

Jon’s dark eyes lit up and he pulled me in for a crushing hug. I was momentarily paralyzed. The feel of his rock hard chest against my cheek and the warmth radiating off of him combined with his fingers grazing the tiny strip of skin that was exposed as my sweater rose from my hips had me totally frozen.

"That’s fantastic, Jazz! I told you he’d go for it,” he released me and I saw that I wasn’t the only one blushing.

I beamed. “I know! And he wants to help me get support from a bunch of other NHL teams and coaches! It’s better than I could have imagined.”

“You’re calling him Joel, huh? You must have made one hell of an impression on him,” Jon remarked as he pulled on his shirt and started buttoning it up.

“I don’t know...I’m just super excited!” I cried out.

Several of the guys around us were giving us quizzical looks, so I just smiled sheepishly and made my way to Viktor to tell him the good news. He reacted just as well as Jon did, and he gave me a firm kiss to top it off.

“Ooh, it’s getting steamy in here,” Kaner’s dopey laugh reached my ears and I pulled away from Viktor.

“Oh shut up, you, I’m celebrating,” I retorted, sticking my tongue out at him.

“Well I don’t see why you should celebrate, after all we won the game, if you remember,” Patrick teased, giving me a friendly shove.

I scoffed. “Who says I’m celebrating the game?”

Patrick’s eyebrows raised and I told him what had happened. He was just as thrilled as I hoped, and gave me a warm hug and a loud kiss on the cheek.

“Make sure I’m in the commercial,” he whispered in my ear before giving me one more pat on the back and heading out of the dressing room.

“No promises!” I yelled to his retreating figure.

He let out another laugh and gave me the finger before leaving.
~
February 1st, that’s when it was all going down. Coach Quenneville had helped me liaise a giant meeting with a number of coaches and their players. It was more like a huge conference or convention, with players mostly from the eastern conference, since the company who was sponsoring the campaign was headquartered in New York. I tried to make the distribution relatively equal, though.

I made up a list of players that I really wanted to be a part of the movement. From Chicago there was Kane and Toews. I wanted Viktor to participate too, but Joel wanted to limit the number of players who would be missing practices those days. The rest of the players included Sidney Crosby, Henrik Lundqvist, Eric Staal, Milan Lucic and Zdeno Chara, Scott Hartnell, Steven Stamkos, and I snuck Joe Thornton in there too.

The conference took place in Chicago, a nice middle ground for the east and west. We sat and a long table and I made my pitch. I was very, very uncomfortable as I stood in front of these famous athletes and showed them mock-ups of the printed ads and the gist of the commercials.

“It’s for a great cause,” I finished, “and I think all of you would be perfect.”

There was silence for a few minutes, and then one of the coaches stood up.

“If the boys are in, I’m in,” he announced with a smile.

I grinned, and so did Liz, who was standing next to me.

“Perfect. Now, if the coaches could hang around for another few minutes, I’d like to discuss the legality and the amount of time this will take,” Liz called out. “The players are free to wander into the next room, we have food and drinks, and then head back to whatever hotel or airport you need to get back to.”

I squeezed Liz’s arm, and she told me to go take a break as well.

“You’ve done well, Jazz. Go relax,” she whispered as the boys filed out, chatting to one another.

I smiled gratefully at her and took off my heavy blazer to reveal my champagne colored business dress with a conservative neckline and length. I took my hair out of my stiff bun and walked out of the room confidently.

All confidence melted as soon as I entered the room full of NHL stars. I grabbed a soda and went to stand with Jon and Patrick, who were talking with Sidney Crosby and Eric Staal.

“Hey Pat,” I greeted, squeezing his upper arm.

Patrick beamed. “Hey Jazz, great presentation,” he gave me a quick hug.

“You guys already know each other?” Eric questioned, taking a bite of a muffin.

Jon nodded. “Yeah, she’s a friend of the team.”

“And she’s dating Stalberg,” Kaner added like it was obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you both. I’m so glad you’re on board for this,” I extended a hand to both men, who shook it firmly.

“I think it’s a great movement,” Sidney gave me a shy smile.

I grinned back at him and then glanced around the room, looking for my target.

“Ooh, Pat can you introduce me to Joe Thornton? Please?” I begged, grabbing his shoulder.

Kaner made a face. “No. I’m eating. Plus, you’re a ‘hawks fan now.”

I snorted. “Fat chance. C’mon, he’s my captain!”

Jon stiffened and Sidney and Eric laughed.

“I’ll take you if you like,” Crosby offered me an arm.

I smiled gleefully and moved to take it when Jon stopped me, grabbing my elbow.

“It’s fine, Crosby, I got it,” Jon’s smile looked forced, and his tone was sharp.

His grip was vise like and he practically dragged me across the room. It was a little humiliating, and my arm was beginning to hurt.

“Jon, that hurts,” I whisper-yelled, yanking my arm from his grip.

He gave me an apologetic look but didn’t say anything as we reached Joe Thornton, who was talking to Zdeno Chara and Milan Lucic.

“Sorry to interrupt, but uh, Thornton? Jazz here is a huge Sharks fan and wanted to say hello,” Jon said in a surprisingly smooth manner as he gave me a firm push forwards.

I blushed. “It’s great to meet you, Mr. Thornton! And I’m so glad you’re willing to participate in my little project.”

Joe gave me a willing smile and shook my hand.

“Call me Joe. I’m more than happy to be a part of this,” he replied graciously, “and it’s always great to meet a fan out outside of San Jose. Have you met Chara and Lucic? We were just talking about how Chara took over my captaincy in Boston.”

I greeted Milan and Zdeno warmly and then gave Joe a teasing look.

“Well you redeemed yourself in San Jose,” I consoled him.

“Yeah, but we have a cup,” Chara reminded us.

“And they have me,” Milan piped in with a cheeky grin and a wink at me.

I blushed. “We’ll win a cup soon,” I retorted.

“I hope other fans have your confidence,” Joe remarked wryly as he took a sip of coffee from a paper cup.

“Chicago fans believe, don’t they Jon?” I elbowed him in the side gently.

“Yeah, we’ve got pretty loyal fans,” Jon said shortly.

“Are you living in Chicago, Jazz?” Milan asked curiously.

I nodded. “I’ve been here since college.”

“No chance of you moving up to Boston?” he continued flirtatiously.

I felt my cheeks grow hot and I opened my mouth to respond, but Jonathan had taken my arm.

“Oookay, we’d better go meet some of the other players, Jazz,” he ordered with gritted teeth.

“Wait!” I yanked free and grabbed a napkin. “Could I trouble you for an autograph, Joe? My parents would flip.”

Joe laughed good-heartedly. “I’ll do you one better. When we do the photo shoot I’ll bring a signed jersey with me.”

“You’re the best!” I squealed as Jon dragged me away.

“You’re such a fangirl,” he complained as I went to get some food.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re being an idiot. Why did you drag me away like that?”

“Um, did you not see Lucic being all flirty with you?” Jon demanded.

I snickered. “Who cares? I have a boyfriend, and he lives in Boston.”

“Well...I...still, I didn’t like it. You know he’s kind of a douche on the ice. And off the ice, actually,” Jon spluttered. “And anyway, don’t you have to go sign some papers?” He pointed to the room where Liz was getting packets ready.

I frowned. “You’re being a dick; I think you should know that. But I’m leaving now...not because you told me to, but because I actually do have to sign some papers.”

I flounced off and we managed to get all the contracts signed by all the players and coaches by two in the afternoon.

I stared at the pile of papers and the retreating players with a big smile on my face.

Mission accomplished