Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Social conduct for hate-free inter-colleague teamwork
Short: SCHIT
Personal issues can and should be avoided as much as possible. The parties are not interested in each other’s private lives.
It was impossible to concentrate on work. Hazel had dozens of things to do: make calls, reassure clients, and finalize contracts. But instead, she sat in her office for the next few hours, staring at the white wall.
She’d gone too far. Without realizing it. Without understanding it. But she’d never seen Gareth so…upset. It would have shocked the people who vehemently denied he had any emotion.
She hadn’t realized that he cared about her opinion. That was perhaps even more shocking than his outburst. No. The most shocking thing had been…
If I knew where to touch them to drive them crazy. And if for seven years, I couldn’t forget how they wrapped their legs around me and whispered…is that all? when I took them deeper and harder, I’d probably remember all their first names without any problem!
She shuddered, stood, and hastily turned up the air conditioning in her office.
The temperature was fluctuating strangely today — Gareth couldn't possibly remember exactly what they’d said to each other in their delirious moments.
She shouldn’t be able to remember it either.
Or his soft chuckle in her mother’s house, which she wished she’d never heard because it reminded her of the old Gareth, the man who had always claimed that no one could twist words to their advantage as well as she could — and always with a hint of admiration in his voice that had made her ridiculously happy.
But everything he’d thrown at her, about how she should know him better than anyone else…
It was a lie. Had to be a lie. She hadn’t been special to him.
Jesus, the guy had said okay when she’d broken up with him!
He hadn’t pressed her, hadn’t tried to convince her otherwise, he’d just let her go!
And she was entitled to be angry because he’d ruined her job search.
Yes, of course, she’d retaliated and made his life miserable, but only because she’d been hurt.
But it was you who hurt me, not the other way around, for fuck’s sake.
Had she? She’d never realized that. Their breakup had been so unspectacularly friendly and nice… Had he been hurt?
She felt dizzy and plopped back into her office chair. Everything he’d said, everything he’d claimed — it didn’t make sense. He must have lied. At least about…
“Shit,” she whispered, jerking her phone closer. She had to clear things up, at least the one thing that could provide her with clarity. So, she texted Penny: Did Gareth actually tell you about me back then? When we were together at college?
She didn’t know how to explain to Penny why she was asking about it now and just hoped the owner of the Hawks would answer, and…
“Hey, Hazel.” Her assistant, Amber, poked her head in the door. “What are you still doing here? I was just locking up. Aren’t you having dinner with the boys?”
Oh, Shit.
“You’re late,” Fox said, greeting her half an hour later, waving her in. “Moreau’s already here, complaining.”
“Sorry. Hard day,” she murmured, giving him a quick hug before saying loudly, “Don’t be so hangry, Moreau. Otherwise, I’ll tell the press they can call you killer again.”
A distant snort came from the kitchen at the end of the hall.
“Why was it a hard day?” Austin asked, leading the way down the corridor.
“Oh…” She hesitated, quickly checking her phone, but Penny hadn’t answered yet. She could tell Austin about Gareth, his words, and her contract, but that would lead to a whole host of questions, none of which she wanted to answer, so she simply said, “Too many appointments, too little time.”
“Well, that’s nothing new,” he muttered, stepping through the door. Moreau stood at the stove, roughly stirring some sauce, but greeted Hazel with a jerky nod — affectionate as he was.
“Hey, sunshine,” she said with a smile. “Where’s Melody?”
“Anna’s out getting ice cream with her. She said they’d better do it alone because I spoil the mood with my anti-sugar attitude.”
Hazel grinned. “You’ve got a smart girlfriend there.”
“Yeah, yeah. Can we get started now? I’m hungry.” With this last, he raised his hand in frustration, nearly knocking over the spices and the single figurine that were resting on the edge of the exhaust hood.
“Fuck, Moreau, watch it!” Fox shouted, crossing the kitchen and hastily steadying the wobbling sculpture. “It’s glass.”
“Sorry,” the goalie mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the miniature work of art. It was a dolphin, composed of delicate strands of light blue glass. “Where did you get that thing anyway? I’ve seen it in every apartment and house you own, but I have no idea.”
Austin waved a hand. “From someone.”
“Okay,” Hazel said. “And why do you still have it?”
“It’s pretty. And a reminder that wrong things can feel good, but we shouldn’t do them anyway.”
Moreau raised an eyebrow. “Who told you that?”
“I did,” he replied angrily. “Now sit down. I thought you were starving.”
Smiling, Hazel sank into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
Austin had a dining room – this house was far too big for one man alone – but used it less often than the poolroom.
And Austin wasn’t even particularly fond of pool; he’d had it set up just for his team, who came and went from the house like they did the arena.
Fox was the dad of the group, and he’d made the mistake of mentioning that his door was always open, so he should have expected the consequences.
She let Fox serve her noodles and Moreau pour her water, and she began to relax.
She realized that they were sitting there mostly because of her.
Hazel hated eating alone; she’d had to do it too often.
Her mother had always worked, and at every school, she’d been the poor outsider people pitied.
At Harvard, most people had found her not only too poor, but also too ambitious.
Too focused on her goal, too intense...too much.
Until she met Gareth. She’d never been too much for him.
“…heard the coach is thinking about benching him completely and not letting him play at all.”
She blinked and looked up. “What? Bench who?”
“Ford,” Moreau murmured.
“Blake? Your favorite backup goalie?”
“He’s an arrogant idiot,” Moreau informed her. “I don’t know why you signed him.”
She snorted. “You only say that because he scares you. Because he’s young and fast and could become brilliant if you took him under your wing.”
“He doesn’t want to learn anything from me!”
She rolled her eyes. “He adores you, Moreau!” Blake wouldn’t be happy with her telling him that, but he needed to hear it. “And why the hell don’t they want to let him play at all? You need a few days off too.”
“Because he’s playing like shit,” Fox said matter-of-factly. “Abysmally, Hazel.”
“He just broke up with his girlfriend! That’s why he’s out of sorts. All he needs is someone to listen to him and a week to calm down, and then he’ll be back to normal.”
Moreau frowned. “He didn’t say anything about a breakup.”
“Oh, because you hockey players are always so open about your loneliness and hard feelings, right? Tell the coach he just needs to get over the breakup. That’s no reason to bench him.”
“Hmm,” Fox said. “Fine. I’ll mention it and ask Ford if he needs a good cry. But first, more important things: Did you put in the contract that I’m supposed to sign on Wednesday that Clark has to put Snickers back in the vending machine in the break room?”
She sighed. “No. I have to take this seriously now, Austin. No more candy clauses.” It was noted in their code of conduct.
“Oh, wow. She has to take Gareth seriously now,” Fox said to Moreau, impressed.
“Speaking of serious,” he murmured. “I hear Clark is pretty serious about his opera singer girlfriend.”
A thin thread tightened around Hazel’s heart, but she just laughed. “Please. Gareth isn’t serious about a relationship. That’s not his style.”
She took a sip of water because her throat felt oddly dry.
“Yes, he is.” Moreau frowned. “I heard he’s thinking about marrying her.”
Hazel choked and began to cough loudly. “What?” Gareth wanted… He wanted…to get married?
“Yes.”
“How do you know?” she croaked.
“From Anna. She got it from Lucy, who found out from her sister, Rachel, who’s dating Connor, who…knows Gareth?”
“Yeah, he’s one of his best friends,” she said, perplexed. “They know each other from Harvard.”
“Ah, so you know him too?”
“Yeah, but we lost touch after…” She trailed off. That wasn’t important. “He wants to get engaged to her?”
“Yup.”
“Man, I can’t believe Moreau’s getting more gossip than me now,” Fox muttered, shaking his head.
“I don’t want it either, okay?” Moreau said, pained. “But Anna talks, and I like listening to her…”
“You like listening? Fuck me, you’ve changed.”
Moreau gave him the middle finger and came back with something probably not very nice, but Hazel barely registered it. Her head was…full. It was full of a whooshing sound and pink cotton, it seemed. She could swear red mist was pushing its way across her vision from the sides.
I’m not getting married. It would make my mother too happy. I can’t possibly risk that.
What if I want to get married?
Fuck. Then I guess I’ll have to rethink it.
Austin nudged her with his elbow, and she looked up, blinking.
“What?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Oh. What?”
“Does it bother you?” he asked darkly, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve been rather quiet. I would understand, I mean, you’re still his ex-girlfriend, even if you hate him, so…”
“I… No. Why should it bother me?” she asked, perplexed, lacing her clammy fingers beneath the tabletop. She was just surprised.
Yes, the bitter feeling that spread through her chest, scratching at her heart with sharp fingernails, was surprise.
She hadn’t believed that Gareth would ever consider marriage. He wasn’t the type. He’d said so himself once.
It was just that if he married, the door…the door that had been slightly ajar…
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her?
Because I’ve never shared more with anyone in this world than I have with you, Hazel — and now you act like it’s worthless!
So that was just another lie? If Gareth wanted to marry, he would certainly choose someone he had more in common with.
So how could he tell her she was special when that obviously wasn’t true?
Why deliberately confuse her? He was the one who had told her that he didn’t want to remain friends with her!
Who had rejected every advance she made when she moved to L.A.
Who had made her life miserable and declared war on her.
She looked up and noticed that Moreau and Austin were still looking at her.
“It’s all good!” she said. “I’m happy for him if he…” She cleared her throat. “Are we having dessert soon?”
Austin gently squeezed her shoulder and rose. “I think I have some ice cream. I’ll go and check.”
He strolled over to the fridge and she met Moreau’s intense gaze.
“It’s okay, you know?” he murmured. “To feel something about him getting married.”
No, it wasn’t. When it came to Gareth, it was always…too much.
“Great. Now I’m getting emotional advice from the guy who, until a few months ago, thought emotions were those smiley faces you use on your phone.”
Moreau snorted, but smiled knowingly.
She didn’t like that at all. She was glad when her phone vibrated with a message, and she had an excuse to look away.
Penny had answered. Yes. Gareth talked about you. I remember it rather well because you were the first girlfriend he ever mentioned. He rambled on, but your name came up. Didn't you know?