Grinding (Portland Icehawks #6)

27. Shelby Fired

Chapter Twenty-Seven

SHELBY FIRED

The Icehawks might be on their way to their first playoff spot if they can keep it together for the next four weeks. Rumors of discord in the locker room may present an obstacle, and Drakos Lenkov isn’t helping matters with his apathetic level of play. Meanwhile, the goalie situation is still unresolved. —Aria at All Hockey News

~~Inez~~

A week after the goalie incident in the locker room, the team returns from a five-day road trip. Brian goes this time, and I stay home. Being away from Camden is agonizing. We texted constantly, sexted every night, and I watched every game but only had eyes for number fifty-six. The guys won two out of three. Camden played well the entire road trip, and I’m very proud of his steady performance. I’ve told him so a hundred times over.

We’ve agreed to sneak around until the season ends, then figure out what we’re going to do regarding our future. This week without him has taught me one thing and brought me to an alarming conclusion. I can’t live without this man in my life. I don’t know how we’ll fix this, but I only know we must as we can’t continue this subterfuge indefinitely. It’s tearing me up inside to be so dishonest.

I’m a planner, yet I have no plan on how to make this work. The inevitable conclusion seems to be that one of us makes the ultimate sacrifice and cuts ties with the Icehawks. Camden may not have a contract after this year, which would make the decision so much easier, yet I wouldn’t wish that on him, regardless.

I love him. He loves me. Right now, I’m hanging on to that knowledge as if my very existence depends on it. My happiness certainly does.

When the team arrived back in town this morning, Camden came straight to my place. We made love and talked about the road trip. He stayed the night, and we both went our separate ways in the morning.

Now I’ve dragged my tired ass into work. I wonder how Camden’s faring. They have an afternoon skate, and he’s currently working out. I’m exhausted, but I’m not exerting myself as he’s required to do.

I sit down at my desk and go over my morning schedule before opening up my emails. A rap comes at the door, which swings open before I can respond.

In a swirl of lavender and purple, Aunt Matilda waltzes into my office. She’s been in Hawaii for two weeks with Ramon, and this is the first time I’ve seen her since she arrived home.

“Hi. You look tanned and rested.” I jump to my feet and hug her. Her bracelets on her wrists jangle like a disjointed symphony as she hugs me back. Aunt Matilda pulls away first but keeps her hands on my shoulders as she surveys me. She nods her approval.

“You’re glowing. You must be having some good sex.”

“Aunt Matilda, please,” I chastise her, but my face burns hot with embarrassment.

“I was right. Is it the same guy?”

I don’t lie to her. She already knows enough, and she sniffs out a lie like a bloodhound on the tail of a rabbit. “Yes.”

“It’s serious then?”

“Very serious.” I slump onto the small couch in my office, and she sits next to me. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. This is so very, very wrong.”

“In the eyes of the establishment, yes, but looking at this from a spiritual point of view, you’re exactly where you need to be doing what you need to do.”

“And I’m asking for trouble,” I say glumly.

“Do you love each other?”

“We do.”

“Then the universe has spoken. It’s fate. Believe in your love and let it show you the way.”

“I wish it’d show me sooner, because it’s getting harder and harder to conceal. I hate being dishonest.”

“The unfair norms dictated by society are forcing you into this situation. You’ll find a solution. I promise there’re always solutions.”

“But none of them are favorable.”

“Love requires sacrifice. If you love each other enough, it’ll happen.” She consults her phone. “Well, dear, I must rush to an appointment. You’ll figure this out. Keep the faith.” And just like that, she’s gone in a swirl of purple.

Is she right? Do we love each other enough for one of us to walk away from our career? Who’ll be the biggest loser in this script of our future? And will there be resentment if one of us abandons our dreams? Such bitterness could doom our relationship.

I can’t ask Camden to give up on hockey, not when he’s finally playing to his potential. I can’t ask myself to resign my position and return to being Mr. B’s assistant, but it might be the only option. Am I prepared to make that sacrifice?

At this point, I can’t answer that question, but being without him all week drove home how hard it’d be to lose him.

My office phone rings. It’s Brian.

“My office. Now.” Brian’s unusual curtness alarms me. Trembling with a sense of foreboding, I hurry to his office and hesitate in front of the door. I compose myself, still my racing heart, and march inside like the confident woman I portray myself to be.

“Sit down.” Brian gestures to the chair in front of his desk, and I quickly take a seat. He steeples his fingers in front of his face, as if he’s reviewing what to say. My stomach does a nosedive as I wait with bated breath. He’s deeply troubled, and I fear Camden and I might be the cause.

“What’s wrong?” I can’t disguise the fear crashing through me. Is this it? Am I being fired?

Brian clasps his hands on the desk and lifts his head. “We fired Shelby this morning.”

“Why?” I blow out a long breath of relief before I pivot to concern over Shelby. This is unexpected.

“She’s the leak. She was feeding insider’s info to the press and getting paid for it.”

“What? The press? As in Aria?” Not shy little Shelby. I’m in denial, yet it also makes sense considering I’ve seen her skulking around in places she shouldn’t be.

“Exactly.”

“I can’t believe Shelby would do a thing like that. There has to be more to it.”

“She admitted to it. That’s all we need to know. Stan had her escorted out of the building. She won’t be allowed back inside.”

“I can’t fathom why she’d betray us like this.”

He shrugs. “We never know what goes on in people’s lives that drives them to do things they would never do under normal circumstances.”

“So true.” I’m a shining example of that.

He nods, but I can tell he’s distracted and ready to move on from this subject. I take the hint. We talk briefly about a few tasks he needs me to complete, and I leave the room.

Concentrating on work is almost impossible for the remainder of the day. I avoid telling Camden about the Aria incident, though via text message he indicates the news has spread to the team. I’ll join him later for dinner, and we can discuss everything then.

My phone beeps with a text from Everly.

EVERLY: You have to see this.

I tap on the link she’s sent me. It’s a new post from Aria. I fear it’s about Camden and me.

Imagine my relief when I read it, and there’s no mention of us, though Aria’s bringing up Shelby’s dismissal.

I’ve been in a constant state of near panic lately, and I have to do something about it. I can’t keep living a lie like this.