Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
Oakley
I study their faces and hate the pity and sympathy I see.
Poor little Oakley, can’t keep a man. All through high school and college the popular girls would look at me and tsk tsk because I’m flat chested with no ass. Yeah, all the boys liked me. As one of the guys. I could talk sports and quote stats for most teams all night.
My twelve-year-old body never seemed to catch on that I was maturing. It’s why most of the Blades team like me, and none of their girlfriends or wives feel threatened when I’m with their men.
Hell, Trevor was only the second guy I’ve been with. Should have known he was just using me for free PR. I swallow the rejection. It’s more the embarrassment that hurts. Not my heart. He’s not what I wanted. Not who I want.
Coach looks at me, a gentle kindness fills his gaze. “He will be dealt with, Oakley. He should?—”
“He needs to be left alone. Treated like normal. Like none of you really know anything. The Buffalo Blades deserve to win this year. The team, the whole team, has worked hard for this the last two years. I don’t want him to take that away from you.”
Squaring my shoulders, I turn to Dash. “Are you sure that woman is who you think?”
“Yes.”
I meet my brother’s furious gaze. “Gordy, think this through. There are two scenarios. The Arctic Bears are really close to us in the standings. We’re undefeated, but the Bears are only four games behind. We lose because of internal fighting and their chances improve. Maybe this was a set up to divide the team, distract everyone from the real goal.
“They could also be trying to recruit him for next year,” I continue.
“Fuck,” Coach spews.
“That’s right. Fuck him and his new toy. The best revenge you can give me is bringing home the Stanley cup. With or without him.”
“Damn, girl. You after my job?” Coach smiles at me.
“Nope. But it’s easier to see what’s going on from the stands. Keep going like you are and get Fitch, your back up, in every chance you can. The kid’s got talent and just needs more confidence and time playing with the first stringers.”
“Uhm, guys,” Phil interrupts. There’s some new posts.”
We gather behind Phil to view the screen. Pictures of Trevor and the raven goddess on the beach, at restaurants, dancing. Another back shot of Dash, arm wrapped around my shoulders and leaning into my ear as we walk down a sidewalk then enter a motel room.
TROUBLE IN BUFFALO?
Golden boy and center for the Buffalo Blades, Trevor Markel was caught with his pants off with Sabrina White, daughter of the owner of the Arctic Bears.
While Blades goalie, Dash Fahey, was seen sneaking Markel’s ex, Oakley Wells, into his room.
Talk about stiff competition both on and off the ice.
I can’t believe my eyes. “God damn it! My newspaper put that out! How the hell do they know? I’m their reporter on site.”
Grabbing my phone I dial my editor.
“Put it on speaker,” Dash whispers, then looks at the group. “No matter what, keep your mouths shut, she can handle this.”
I meet his gaze in appreciation as my call goes through. “Stan, what the hell is this internet story I’m looking at with my name in it?”
“You tell me what’s going on. I send you to report on the team and instead you’re the story. You break up over the holidays with the star player and he’s now dating the competition? And you’ve moved on to his teammate. Are you trying to ruin my favorite team?”
“Who gave you this story and told you we broke up over the holidays?”
“An independent I buy from once in a while. He had the hot photos of Markel and the girl in Florida as well as today’s shots. He can get the stories that catch attention.”
“Let me get this straight, you promoted me just because I was dating a hockey player? Not because I have a master’s in communications and journalism?”
“I was looking for some good juice. It’s what sells papers nowadays. Instead, you come back with stats, play breakdowns and team dynamics. Any idiot can do that.”
“Obviously not, since you can’t.”
“You’re useless to me,” he snaps. “Send back my equipment. You’re out of a job.”
I disconnect and carefully slide the phone back into my jeans. Holding my head high, I meet the gaze of each man in the room.
Gordy heads for the door. “This is all Markel’s fault. I’m gonna break his neck.”
Dash steps in front of him and talks softly. Dash is four years older than my brother, but they’ve been friends since Gordy joined the team. I’ve heard him confide in Dash as if he were an older brother. They respect each other’s work ethic. My parents love Dash like a son. If anyone can control Gordy’s actions, it will be Dash.
“So, you’re fired? Out of a job?” Coach Nugent interrupts my thoughts.
“Yes, apparently so.”
“Good. You’re hired. We need a class act who knows sports, sports players and PR to work with Phil. He hates the on-camera shit and you’re a damn site prettier, so you can handle that. I’ll have the office send you the contract. Sign it as soon as you can. You’re on the payroll as of this minute.”
He looks toward the door where my brother and Dash stare in shocked silence.
“The bus is full,” Coach continues. “Dash, take her with you when we leave in the morning. Gordy, you stay the hell away from Markel but you and Dash start working with Fitch as much as you can on the side. We’ll start bringing him in more and more to give Markel a rest.
“This situation may or may not go viral. We play it down. Get some sleep, all of you. We leave early because of the potential snowstorm.”
Phil and Coach Nugent head out the door. Gordy puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll respect your wishes for now. When the season is over, I’m beating the crap out of him for hurting my little sis.”
“Not necessary. I think I’m more embarrassed for not seeing him for what he really is than hurt. This may have been the best thing to happen to me. I’m not missing him at all.”
“Where are you rooming?”
“I was hoping with you. The motel is booked.”
“Shit, I’m sharing with Fitch and we’ve got a poker game going in our room. We could put you in?—”
“She’s staying with me,” Dash cuts in. “The press already has her with me. Moving her around will just cause more questions and make things worse. I can run interference and make sure she’s left alone. You can trust me with your sister.”
“Sis?” Gordy asks.
“I agree with Dash. We go with this at least until the story dies down. But Gordy, you have to play your part.”
“What do you mean?”
“If this started before the holidays, you had to have known that your best friend started seeing your sister. Dash was with us for two days during the holidays. You can’t go after Trevor when your sister has moved on.
“The story—your response—is Trevor and I were a couple but broke up and we’ve both moved on. No hard feelings.”
“I’ll still break his pretty boy nose after the season,” Gordy responds as he pushes out the door.
Dash steps in front of me. “How about I order us a pizza and go pick it up. You snuggle in and find us something to watch on TV. The bus leaves at four in the morning so calling it an evening early would be wise.”
“Why are you in your truck and not the bus?”
He smiles. “Sanity. I’m the old man of the group and they’re like a bunch of frat boys. My truck is more comfortable. I also need to stretch my legs a little more often than the bus can stop. Our team plane is different, there’s more leg room and the flights are short. Hopefully, it will be back in action after these games are over.”
I nod, knowing at his height of almost six-four and well over two hundred pounds, leg room and the size of a seat is always an issue. He doesn’t move like a big man though. In fact, he’s damn agile for a goalie. I’ve seen part of his workout routine including his yoga and Pilates. He takes good care of himself. But the position always takes its toll.
“Are you still into pepperoni and black olive, thin crust?”
“How do you remember that?”
He shrugs. “You still mainlining coffee?”
“My drug of choice. But it has to be from a real coffee shop. Gas stations are emergency only.”
“I saw a cute little coffee shop earlier and they had a drive through.”
“Perfect. Extra-large, double shot of espresso, double the cream-whipped, and extra extra extra hot. And get it after the pizza so it doesn’t get cold before you make it back. Actually, make it two of them. I can always drink what’s left when we leave in the morning. Do you need to write this down?”
“I can remember. Are you going to be able to sleep?”
“It’s never stopped me before.”
Shaking his head he pauses at the door and looks over his shoulder. “Don’t open the door to anyone. Could be a reporter, and you don’t want to risk an interaction with Trevor. You’re the media person, think about how we can handle this while I’m gone. We can brainstorm together while we eat.”
Pulling on a hoodie from my suitcase I curl up on the bed and turn on the TV, stopping at the first sports program I come to for background noise. Closing my eyes I lean my head against the headboard.
I’m a little surprised at how little I care about Trevor. If I’m honest with myself, I’m glad he found someone. He wasn’t the ‘one’ for me, and I wasn’t what he wanted. I can buy the fancy clothes, and dress the part, but I still don’t look sexy and I never feel comfortable. I’m definitely not into the attention seeking parties he likes.
I could have done without the drama. I’m thankful that Dash was there. Cool headed, logical, dependable. My secret crush.
Did Trevor just give me the break of a lifetime? Is Dash finally seeing me?