“You’re welcome, hotshot. Keep him with you—and each time you start to stress, remember that weird kid with his dreams.” A hand pressed to his chest. “Your dreams have value. Don’t ever forget that.”

Closing his hand over hers, he swallowed, nodded. “Thanks.” It came out rough.

“You’re welcome. And Danny, don’t forget what we talked about. You can always climb back to the top.”

“I don’t want to be relegated… But yeah, I can work my way back.”

A ping on his phone.

“That’s my alarm to make sure I’m heading out the door.”

Nodding, Catie walked out with him after he grabbed his wallet and phone. When she slipped her hand into his, he closed his fingers around it and squeezed. She squeezed back, and it was good.

She came with him all the way to the underground carpark and his car. Where she kissed him one last time before stepping back.

“You’ve got this.” Her voice was fierce, her confidence in him unyielding.

26

CHANGES

Danny held Catie’s words close as he walked into the meeting room. It encouraged him to see the setup wasn’t super official, was instead a round table on which sat a carafe of coffee, a large glass pitcher of freshly squeezed juice, and a jug of water. Condensation beaded along the outsides of both the latter.

“Look, Dan,” his coach said after they’d all sat down, “I won’t lie, we’re worried about you.”

“I know. My form’s been shit.” No point in sugarcoating it.

One of the others around the table snorted. “Dan, your shit playing is still better than ninety percent of the players in the world.”

“That’s not good enough. I want to be better than ninety-nine percent.”

He got thoughtful looks and nods in return. Elite sport wasn’t for the tenderhearted or those without drive. It took grit and will and the ability to take tough criticism and use it to improve your game.

Sliding his hand into his pocket and closing it around the rock he’d given Catie, he looked toward his coach. “I’ve been working on the things we discussed to lower my error rate, and I’ve also been working through suggestions made by my brothers.” He listed them.

“I’d say we were impressed,” Coach Brook said, “but we are talking the Bishop-Esera crew.” A fond smile. “Those are all brilliant ideas and mesh well with what we talked about.”

Danny squeezed his fingers around Rick the Rock. “But?”

The people around the table looked at each other, and his chest clenched. Then he remembered what Catie had said: What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Yeah, he could work his way back. He was more than good enough. He just needed to get his head in the right space.