"What is it you want a trainer to do?" I ask, genuinely curious. His intensity is surprising. 
"Prevent me from getting injured. I don't want someone after the fact. I want to stop it from happening at all."
"I have my doctorate in physical therapy," I say. "I'm confident that whatever you need, I can provide it."
"But you don't know what I need," he says, irritation clear in his tone. "My contract is very clear."
"You two getting to know each other?" my father asks, ambling over.
"Something like that," Logan says. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here," he mutters, turning away.
"Sawyer is an extremely talented physiotherapist," my father brags, and I have no idea how he'd know if that claim was true. "Best on the island."
Logan focuses on the ceiling and seems to be gathering himself. The hothead personality I was warned about might be ready to rear its head. "You worked with a professional sports organization before?"
"When I did my doctorate at Northern University, I worked in their athletics department. My experience there was pretty vast."
"And since then?" he asks.
"All my experiences since then have been on the island." Where there were no professional teams until now. I'm sure we're both thinking it.
He runs a hand through his dark brown hair that's still shaggy. His obvious frustration at my level of experience—despite having a doctorate—starts to snuff out my confidence. While I'm not sure I can make him love Bellerive, I am sure I can treat any injury. One man is not going to make me feel like I don't know what I'm doing—not again.
"What a fucking Mickey Mouse organization this is," he mutters. 
"Wayne Gretzky," my dad says with a hint of admiration. "New Jersey Devils."
Logan turns toward my dad, and his eyes narrow. "You actually know something about hockey?"
"Bringing the team here was my idea," my dad says. "Let's get a drink. I'll tell you how I envision getting us out of a Mickey Mouse organization into something worth celebrating—maybe even with a cup."
Logan's nod is slow to come, but he follows my father toward the bar.
"He's intense," Hollyn says, her gaze shifting between me and Tamiko. 
I stare after him and wonder what I've gotten myself into.
"He was the last player to arrive on the island. The last one to enter the party. He's difficult, but not exactly unpleasant." Tamiko worries her lip. "It's very clear he doesn't want to be here."
At the bar, he's talking to my dad, and the lines between his brows suggest he's listening intently but not quite on board with whatever my father is trying to sell him as a vision. 
I have no doubt my dad does know a thing or two about hockey. He's loved professional sports—all kinds of them—ever since I can remember, but that's not the same as running a team. Up until now, I've only considered the impact of bringing the team to the island, but I hadn't really thought about how the players and staff must feel. 
Their lives have been uprooted. Brought to a small island in the middle of nowhere that doesn't even get a proper winter or any hi온라인카지노게임 with ice-related sports. If I'm not exactly what Logan pictured or anticipated, I can see how he'd start to wonder if he's come here to watch his career tank.  The arena is nice—extremely well done—but that doesn't equate to a functioning team.
"I think if I was him," I say, carefully, "I'd be a little worried too. A bit uneasy. You said he was a top scorer, right?"
"Top ten in the league since he joined the team at eighteen."
"The coach came, though, right?" I ask, turning to Tamiko. Up until now, I haven't asked many questions. I said yes to the job in the hopes of shaking off my experiences over the last few months, giving myself a fresh start at something new. But I haven't spent much time thinking outside myself.
"Head coach, yes. It's a new assistant coach. Most of the team management is the same. I'm learning a lot about the organizational structure as we go," she admits. "Logan is, maybe rightfully, a bit pissed that no one on the island seems to know enough."
"If the one thing I really cared about wasn't being taken seriously by the people who need to take it seriously, I think I'd be angry and frustrated too," I say.
"I wouldn't say there's anyone who's not taking it seriously," Tamiko says, straightening. "Those of us on the island who aren't familiar with ice hockey or professional sports have a lot to learn, that's all."
I'm not going to push, but I can see how being given to an organization that has a lot to learn would be irritating, even if everyone is trying their best.
"I'll go talk to him tomorrow," I say. "Maybe we can get off on a different foot with each other."
"Good luck," Tamiko says. "I used my loveliest, most professional voice today, and he was as cold as ice."
And I don't know how well I'll stand up under his icy exterior tomorrow either. But it's a good test for me to see whether I'll wilt under his disapproval, whether the damage to my roots goes far deeper than I want to admit. 
Thanks to everyone who took the time to comment on the previous chapter! I appreciate it. I'm going to try for Monday night/Tuesday morning as an update time. I usually publish between 10 pm EST on Monday and midnight Tuesday EST. It'll only be once a week for now, but I'm hoping to add a second soon (ish).
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