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air, and when he could speak, he said, “Say what? It sounded like
you said I’m being traded.”
    “That is what I said. Apparently there’s a deal with the
Caribou.”
    “What? Minneapolis?”
    Jesus Christ. He hadn’t heard a whisper about this. What was
going on?
    “I’m gonna find out more,” Alvin said. “I’ll call you back
ASAP. Just wanted to give you the heads-up.”
    Heads up? Logan stared at his BlackBerry as he dropped it to
the counter. Traded? What the fuck?
    It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t even process it, but it
wasn’t long before his phone was blowing up. He stared at the screen, lit up
with Twitter mentions, Facebook messages and texts. Jesus Christ. He’d barely
started trying to scroll through them when his phone rang again.
    “Yeah,” Alvin said, his voice heavy. “It’s a done deal.”
    “No fucking way!”
    “Yeah. Sorry, man. You’ve been traded to the Caribou for Sly
Sorren and Mike Enrick and a second-round draft pick.”
    “You’re fucking kidding me.”
    “I’m not kidding.”
    Logan rested his elbows on the granite counter of the
kitchen in his beach house. He closed his eyes, his gut knotting. “I don’t get
it,” he said slowly. “There’ve been no rumors. This is right out of the fucking
blue.”
    “I know. But the team has salary-cap issues and Minneapolis
desperately needs some offensive power. And some leadership. They need you.”
    “Shit! This is all about money.”
    “Can’t deny that,” Alvin said wearily. “It is a business
after all. But seriously, the Caribou made a well-thought-out choice, you will
be a benefit to them.”
    “I don’t want to move to Minneapolis! I like it here in
California!”
    “Minneapolis isn’t so bad.”
    “I know exactly what it’s like! I grew up six hundred
kilometers from there. Their winters are the same as ours were.”
    “Your brother’s back in Winnipeg. Didn’t hear him
complaining about the weather.”
    “That’s different. The Jets being back in Winnipeg was huge.
Of course he was happy to go back there. But hell, Alvin. It’s not just that
it’s Minneapolis. Moving is a huge pain in the ass. I have a life here.”
    “It’s part of the gig,” Alvin said. “That’s why you get paid
the big bucks.”
    Logan snorted. But okay, yeah, he did get paid big bucks and
he was determined to never take that for granted and act like some prima donna
asshole who expected everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter.
    “They want you there next week.”
    “Christ.” He looked around his beautiful house, then out
through the sliding glass doors onto the deck and the blue haze of the Pacific
Ocean. Kiss that baby goodbye. He shook his head. “This sucks big time.”
    “I know. Listen, though, Logan. You can’t have that kind of
attitude in front of the media. The Caribou need help on offense, we all know
that. They need leadership. They need you. You’re going to be happy to go there
and give the team all you can, yadda, yadda, yadda.”
    “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Logan sighed. “This doesn’t have
anything to do with that asshole Burrell, does it?”
    “I don’t think so. They didn’t trade him.”
    “Shit. That means I have to play with him. Jesus.” The
Caribou and Burrell’s big mouth had been all over the news for the last two
days after he’d opened his trap and pissed off the entire hockey world by
insulting the daughter of hockey legend Jacques Lambert.
    “Go ahead, vent to me,” Alvin said. “Get it all out of your
system.”
    “I don’t need to vent.” Punch someone maybe, but not vent.
“I guess I better call my parents before they hear it on the news.”
    “There’s a press conference scheduled for this afternoon at
three. Emery’s going to call you right away.”
    Emery Goldberg, the GM of the Condors.
    Logan ended the call and stared at his BlackBerry for a
moment. He’d lived in California for nearly eight years, played for the
California Condors his entire