2. Emmy
TWO
A monsoon greetsme on my ride from the airport to Piper Mitchell’s apartment, and I’m drenched by the time I make it to the entrance of the upscale residential building.
The ride up to the eleventh floor is quick, and I wrestle my suitcases down the hall to Piper’s door. I knock twice, and it flies open.
A five-foot-three blonde with bright blue eyes greets me with a hug that knocks the wind out of me, and for the first time since I touched down at Reagan International, I smile.
I never had a lot of female friends growing up. I gravitated toward sports and made it my mission to get picked for the boys’ teams. All my spare time was spent training, clearing my schedule for practice and trying to prove myself. It was exhausting.
Not like the other girls, the guys on my recreational hockey team would say after I took an elbow to the face in a game. One of us, they cheered when I wiped blood from my nose.
I’d laugh it off, but deep down, I wanted to be like the other girls.
I wanted someone I could talk to about first kisses and bad dates. Period cramps and hot substitute teachers.
It’s been hard to recreate that girlhood as an adult, though. People like to tell me I’m difficult to get along with. Closed-off and too snarky. It’s how I’ve always been, ever since I can remember. I’m not angry but unsettled, which is why I’m always chasing the next big opportunity. Why I’m looking for the next place to go.
That usually translates to leaving before any real connections are formed, and the cycle continues.
Piper was different.
She snuck her way in when we were partnered up in English Lit our sophomore year, and it stuck.
If she’s the sunshine, I’m the storm cloud.
One of us is the people-pleaser and the other is the people-avoider.
Two total opposites who found a friendship that works.
We lost touch in college—I was busy keeping my grades up to maintain my athletic scholarship. She was busy with broadcast journalism and falling in love with the legacy-student-turned-tech CEO who, as it turns out, ended up being a massive douche.
They split up last year, and we reconnected through Instagram DMs that turned into weekly FaceTime calls.
I’m not a big believer in soulmates, but I think Piper might be mine.
She found me when I needed her the most and made me feel lovable. Capable.
When I called her and told her I was coming to play for the Stars, she invited me to stay with her. It was like no time had passed in our friendship, and she was so excited for me, you would’ve thought she was the one who made the team.
“You’re here,” Piper exclaims.
“I’m here, and I’m soaked. I’m going to ruin your floors,” I say.
“Who cares about the floors?” She lets me go and motions me inside. “How was your flight? Do you want to take a shower before I give you the tour and help you settle in? Are you hungry?”
She’s talking a mile a minute, and my jet-lagged brain is slow to catch up.
“Do you mind if I rinse off?” I look down at the puddle forming at my feet. “The guy in the middle seat ate an onion sandwich, and I think the stench followed me.”
“An onion sandwich?” Piper leans forward and sniffs my shirt. “That’s disgusting. What comes on an onion sandwich?”
“Bread and onion. That’s it,” I say. “My poor rideshare driver gagged the whole way here, so I’m definitely losing my five-star rating.”
“The decency of the traveling public has gone out the window. Thank god we fly on charter planes. If I had to see someone walk into the airplane bathroom without shoes on, I’d track down an air marshal and make sure they landed in jail.” She tugs on my arm and guides me down the hall. “I’ll show you your room so you can get cleaned up, then we can do the whole tour.”
“Holy shit, Piper. I know you sent me photos, but this place is massive.” I glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The DC skyline winks back at me, and I’m officially impressed. “This would go for millions in California.”
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Piper grins at me over her shoulder. “If that fucker was going to cheat on me with his secretary and then say the divorce was my fault, you bet I was going to drag him for everything he was worth.”
“How have you been holding up?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” she says, but her smile is strained in the corners. “I had no clue how much he was limiting me until I was away from him, you know?”
I do know, and I hate that my sweet friend now does too.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”
“Don’t be. I’m on the other side of it, and things are going well.” Her megawatt smile is back in place, and she stops us in front of a door. “This is your room. There’s a bathroom attached, and I have towels set up for you. There’s even a towel warmer.”
“Gosh you’re fancy.” I hesitate before I lean forward and hug her again. “Thank you for taking me in.”
“You don’t have to thank me. This is going to be fun. There’s no rush to settle in. I’ll be in the living room when you’re ready.”
With a wave and a flip of her hair, she saunters down the hall and hums a tune that sounds suspiciously like “Goodbye Earl.”
Thirty minutes later, I sit next to Piper on the couch and accept the beer she hands me. We knock the bottles together in a celebratory cheers, sit back and relax.
“I can’t believe you’re here, Em. And not only are you here—you’re signing a contract with the Stars.”
“How many people know about the signing? Did a memo go out?”
“No. I only found out when the broadcast team was given your stat sheet so we could do some research on you. I have a feeling it’s going to be released to the media very soon, though. There’s always someone who tells someone who tells someone else, and the next thing you know, it’s plastered all over ESPN. Maverick knows, of course, so when it gets leaked, we can blame him.”
Maverick Miller.
I’ve watched his highlights, and I know he’s an incredible hockey player.
He’s the former NHL Rookie of the Year. A First Team All-Star five seasons in a row. A recent Ted Lindsay Award winner, voted as the most outstanding player by the members of the NHL Players Association.
He might be an athletic phenom, that once-in-a-decade number one draft pick you go all in on because you know he’s going to win you a Stanley Cup, but his social media is littered with posts that scream look at me.
I did a deep dive on him on my flight over, and I wish I hadn’t.
There are pictures in VIP sections at clubs with an obnoxious silver chain around his neck. Other photos of him lounging in a suite at a DC Titans football game and throwing out the first pitch for the DC Dolphins baseball team.
I’m all for flaunting your wealth and showing off what you’ve earned, but he’s the league’s golden boy. The one modeling in magazine spreads wearing suits that cost eight thousand dollars and the guy who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.
I heard a story that he wanted to use a public gym during the off season, and they shut down the building for two hours so he could get a workout in.
I bet no one’s ever told him no.
It’s difficult to play with people like that. There’s ego involved, a me not we attitude that makes the locker room tense and uncomfortable.
I’ve seen it firsthand, and I don’t want to be a part of that environment again. If that’s how the Stars are operating, I’m not going to last more than a week.
“Miller,” I say, and I hide my curiosity with a sip of my beer. “We have a morning skate planned for later this week, and I don’t want to go in without knowing more about what he’s like off the ice. My friend says he’s a fuck boy. Is that true?”
Piper blushes. “I don’t know anything firsthand, but on the road, he’s been known to sneak someone back to his hotel room after curfew. The women are always very enthusiastic.”
“That has to mean he’s an asshole, right? Someone who doesn’t have his priorities figured out.”
“Not at all. Maverick is kind of like a puppy. He’s full of energy and bounces around everywhere. Everyone loves him, and the work he does for charitable organizations is admirable. He also wears his captain hat well. It’s why he’s still here, even through all the losing crap: he believes in these guys, and he loves DC.”
Interesting.
I can’t say I’ve pictured the guy getting his hands dirty and doing charity work, but I tuck that away for later.
“Why have the Stars lost so many games? They haven’t had a winning season since Miller was drafted. A guy that good should turn a whole organization around.”
“I’ve only been here a few years, so I don’t have the whole story, but I’ve heard rumors about toxic coaching. Sounds like he wasn’t utilized to his full potential in his first couple of seasons. They’d leave him on the bench down the stretch in the third period, and he’d get frustrated. He also led the league in time spent in the penalty box his first two years with us.”
“He has a temper?”
“It’s not a temper—he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s very loyal, and he doesn’t like seeing his teammates taken advantage of. Coach Saunders came in, and the dynamic has shifted. Coach is a lot easier to get along with while still having that authoritative personality. The guys finally believe they have what it takes to succeed after being told they weren’t good enough for so long,” Piper explains.
“And there have been injuries,” I say, and she nods.
“Yeah. It’s such a bummer about Finn Adams. He was having a solid preseason, and he and Maverick meshed really well. But accidents happen, and that means you get the chance of a lifetime, Emmy. Are you excited?”
“Being the first woman to play a regular season game in the NHL would be…” I pause and rub my thumb up the neck of my beer bottle. “There aren’t words. I’m so proud of myself, but I’m also terrified. The attention that comes with being a professional athlete is overwhelming, and even more so when you’re playing without a dick in a male-dominated sport.”
She giggles. “God. You’re going to piss so many people off. The Chads and Joshes are going to lose their minds.”
“It’s always men with those names, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be the first time they told me to get back in the kitchen.” My lips twitch in amusement. “Enough about me. When are you going to land an official spot on the Stars broadcasting team? I know you’ve been filling in here and there.”
Piper shrugs. “Maybe next season. Someone is thinking about retiring, and I’m next in line. It’s a waiting game, but I’m happy with what I’m doing right now—player research. Team development stuff. Becoming very familiar with everyone’s career highs. The stats I can recite would be a cool party trick.”
“I hate talking to the media, but I’d be happy to do an interview if it was with you.”
“You’re going to be the first person I talk to when I finally have a microphone in my hand. There’s no escaping me, Emmy Hartwell.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We stay up late talking about the team and the players and what our lives have been like since we last saw each other. I feel that same sense of calm with Piper that I do with Grady.
The assurance that even when everything feels overwhelming, there are still people who believe in me.