The Secret Play (Pucking Daddies #3)

31. Casey

Chapter 31

Casey

T he phone felt heavier than usual as I stared at Gemma’s name on the screen. My thumb hovered over the call button, but I hesitated. Her text had been straightforward.

“Story’s going live this afternoon. Just wanted to let you know.”

Simple words. Dramatic possibilities.

This was it. The truth would finally be out there. No more rumors, no more half-truths or gossip. I should’ve been relieved, but all I could feel was dread. What would it mean for her? For Winnie? For me? For us?

Too late now. The truth would be out there, whether I wanted it to be or not. Part of me was terrified, but the other part wanted this. No more secrets. I finally hit the call button.

She answered on the first ring, her voice soft but tense. “Hey.”

“Hey there,” I replied, trying to keep my tone steady. “You okay?”

There was a pause, the silence growing between us. Finally, she let out a shaky laugh. “I guess we’ll find out. Gordon’s publishing the story before the game tonight. It’ll be posted in a couple of hours.”

In a couple of hours, I might be unemployed .

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. “I’m glad it’s coming out. Maybe once people know the truth, this whole thing will die down. No one pays attention to old news, and after the playoff game, hopefully no one will care anymore.”

“Maybe,” she said, but something in her voice—an edge of uncertainty, maybe fear—made my chest tighten.

“Matthew’s going to read it,” I said, saying my fear out loud. I had hoped voicing it might take away its power, but I was wrong. My stomach knotted down. My boss wasn’t the kind of man to take things at face value. “I just hope he reads the whole thing before making any decisions.”

“You think he’ll fire you?” she asked, her worry palpable through the phone.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “I broke the rules, Gemma. I didn’t know the other stuff, but I knew you were Nico’s sister when you returned, and I pursued you anyway. That’s on me. But maybe he’ll make an exception under these circumstances. There’s a child in the picture now. That changes things, doesn’t it?”

Her hesitation on the other end told me she didn’t have an answer, either. “I don’t know. I don’t know him or how he thinks about these things,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

I wanted to reassure her, to tell her it would all work out. But the truth was, I didn’t know that it would.

I ended the call and tried to focus on my pregame ritual. Everyone had their sports superstitions for their own reasons. Mine was something I’d done for years, a routine designed to clear my mind and get me in the right headspace to lead the team.

The ritual was simple. Meaningless to anyone else but me. I switched my socks from one foot to the other, thanks to an old girlfriend. She was Irish and said doing that brought good luck. I’d started doing it ever since, but when I looked it up, I couldn’t find any lore on the practice, so I was pretty sure she was bullshitting me, trying to sound mysterious. Or maybe it was to get me to look like a gullible idiot. But the team had better luck when I did it, so I continued the practice.

After the socks came touching everything navy or gold in my line of sight. The team’s colors reminded me of everything we’d worked for, and touching them grounded me.

The last part of the ritual was balancing a puck on my head and walking south to north until I no longer could. In my small office, the trip was a few steps. It was something my uncle had told me the great Toe Blake had done before games. I couldn’t find anything to back up his claim, but like the sock thing, we had better luck when I did it, so I kept it up.

But today, it wasn’t working. None of it.

My socks felt like they were on the wrong feet, even though they were the same sock, just on a different foot. I got a static electricity shock when I touched the gold corner on my bookshelf. And the puck kept falling off my head, no matter how straight I stood as I walked.

I flopped onto my desk chair, staring at the open playbook on my desk. It didn’t take long before the words and diagrams blurred together, my thoughts too loud to let anything else in.

Matthew’s reaction loomed large in my mind. He wasn’t forgiving, and he valued the rules above all else. My relationship with Gemma had been a gamble from the start, and now, with everything out in the open, I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d have this job.

And then there was Gemma.

I couldn’t stop picturing her sitting at her laptop, pouring her heart into that article. I hadn’t asked to read the article ahead of time. I thought she’d be too self-conscious or uncomfortable if I read through it before publishing. Whatever she wrote, she did it all to set the record straight on my behalf.

Guilt ground down my spine. What would she say to salvage my reputation? Was she ready for the backlash? For the judgment? I doubted it, and the thought of her facing it alone made my stomach twist.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see Whitney stepping in.

“You decent?” she asked, holding up her tablet.

“That’s a matter of opinion.” I tried for levity, straightening in my chair. When she didn’t budge, I asked, “What’s up?”

“Gemma sent me a copy of her story to approve before it goes live,” she said, scrolling through the screen. “Wanted to make sure it’s fair to the team.”

I swallowed hard. Gemma was nothing if not thorough, but knowing she’d looped Whitney in made me worry. “And?”

“It’s good, Casey. Really good. For you, for the team. But you’re not going to like it.”

“Why?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “Because you come out of it looking like a good man done wrong by a bad woman.”

The bottom dropped out from inside of me. “What?”

“That woman clearly loves you. She puts everything on herself. She takes full responsibility for not telling you about Winnie, for keeping you in the dark, for all of it. She makes herself the villain so you can come out clean.”

I stared at her, my mind reeling. Gemma was throwing herself under the bus—for me.

“I can’t let her do that,” I said, standing abruptly.

Whitney raised an eyebrow. “Casey, the story is set to go live in less than an hour. What are you going to do?”

“I need to talk to her,” I said, grabbing my phone. “Privately, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” When she was in the doorway, she added, “Don’t let her retract it if you want to keep your job.”

Like I needed another thing heaped onto the pile.

When the door was shut, I dialed Gemma immediately. The phone rang only once before she answered, her voice shaky. “Casey?”

“Explain the article,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm but firm.

“It’s the truth. This is all my fault. I should have reached out. I should have told you about Winnie. I should have?—”

Her voice broke, and I could hear her sobbing on the other end of the line. It shattered me.

“I should have done everything differently,” she cried. “You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to have your life turned upside down because of me. I deserve this. I deserve all of it.”

“Gemma, stop,” I said, my voice softening.

“It’s true,” she sobbed. “I kept your daughter from you. I kept her from knowing you. How do I justify that? How do I make up for that?”

My heart broke at the sound of her crying. There was nothing for her to make up for. Maybe I felt that way when I first learned about the situation, but I was angry and lashing out back then. It wasn’t how I actually felt. “Gemma,” I said gently. “It’s not like that.”

“Yes, it is. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I know how wonderful Winnie is. She’s the best little girl in the world…and I kept her from you. The world needs to know that none of this is your fault.”

I stood, pacing the length of my office as my mind raced. I needed to see her, to hold her, to tell her that we’d figure this out together. “I’m coming over?—”

“No, you’re not,” she said quickly, her voice trembling. “You have a game tonight. The game. The team needs you. The Seattle Razors have been at the top of the Western Conference for a long time. You have to focus. Just forget about this for now. Please. Show Matthew why he shouldn’t fire you.”

“I can’t?—”

“The Razors have put two centers and three wingers into the hospital this season, Casey. My brother is going to be on the ice. I need you to have his back, and you can’t do that if you’re worried about me. Please do this for me.”

I already hated myself for the lie I was about to tell her. “All right, baby. I’ll do this. For you.”

She sniffled. “Thank you.”

But there was no way I wasn’t going to be by her side right now. She needed me. I heard it in her voice. I was halfway to the door when Nico appeared, his expression tense.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, brushing past him.

“You’re supposed to be getting the guys ready,” he said, his voice sharp. “It’s almost game time, Coach. They need you.”

I stopped, turning to face him. “Gemma?—”

“Gemma will be fine,” he said firmly.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Nico.”

He shook his head. “I know my sister. She’s handled bigger shit than some article.”

“She told you about it?”

“She mentioned that you’d hate it. Didn’t take a genius to figure out you might bail tonight.” He stood there, solidly blocking me from going down the hall. “Don’t do it, Coach.”

“You didn’t hear her crying, Nico. I have to go.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. An article won’t break Gemma. But you fucking up tonight, might. She needs you to be all-in on the game. We all do.”

“She needs me.”

He huffed. “Tonight isn’t about you or Gemma or Winnie right now, Coach. This is about the team. You’ve gotten us this far, and we need you to get us to the goal tonight. The Razors aren’t here to play—they’re here to dominate. So whatever’s going on, squash it.”

His words stirred up more guilt inside. He was right. The team did need me. But so did Gemma. I was torn between the job that had defined my life and the woman who had redefined my future.

I swallowed. “This isn’t fair. I need to be with her.”

His heavy hand clapped on my shoulder, and he stared me down. “What you need is to be the man she fell in love with. That man is strong. He supports the people who depend on him. He coaches the Atlanta Fire. Show her who you are.”

“You’re actually advising against me comforting her when she’s upset?”

“I’m advising you to trust that my sister can handle herself. Upset or not. If you think you need to run to her every time she’s unhappy, you’re not giving her enough credit.”