Chapter 13
TYLER
The Gray’s PR manager was Kashvi Kumar. I thought I’d met their head of promotions and marketing already, but I was wrong. I’d met Kashvi’s assistant and a few others on the social media team. But Kashvi, as I was now seeing in action, ran the show.
I was going to meet Benoit’s reporter friend, but Kashvi had decided it wasn’t going to happen at the rink.
She thought a nice hotel suite had a better feeling, and I agreed.
She had asked if five in the morning was too early or too late, and while it was probably a little of both, everyone had agreed.
So, after whatever that had been with Rain at the rink, I drove to the hospital, told my sister what was going on, held her until she fell asleep, and then fell asleep as well.
The nurses had long ago brought in a cot, and there was also a large chair in the room, so that gave us both enough space to sleep if I stayed.
It didn’t matter where we were, if I was with my sister, I could sleep. I’d learned that years ago, and it was somewhat comforting to know it was still true, even at the ripe age of thirty-one. We had a game tonight, so I still got a few hours of sleep.
When I got up to go, Skylar decided to stay at the hospital, trusting me to handle this for her.
The team had a morning skate later, but there’d be time after the interview to go back to Skylar’s place or the hospital for another decent nap.
If I could talk Ski into going home for a few hours, that’d be the ultimate power nap for me.
She needed new clothes and a shower, along with some decent rest, and I wasn’t above telling her she reeked and that Zoey wouldn’t want that tidbit leaked to any media outlets.
How embarrassing. It’d make her laugh, but I hoped it would work too.
“Tyler.” Kashvi met me in the hotel lobby, a tray of coffees in one hand, her phone in the other.
She tucked the phone under her elbow long enough for us to shake, and then she had it back out and was typing as she indicated the elevator.
“I got the room ready. I’m so sorry we’re meeting for the first time under these circumstances.
I’ve been out on maternity leave. Welcome to the Grays, by the way.
” She pushed the elevator button and the doors opened.
As we entered, I gave her a quick once-over. Maternity leave? She was tiny. “Uh, congrats on your baby as well.”
She pushed for the eleventh floor, then chuckled. “Thank you. My wife is the one who had the baby. The Grays are progressive. They gave me maternity leave as her partner. We were both grateful, but my wife was the most. She needed to sleep. A lot.”
“Wait, are you still supposed to be on maternity leave? You’re not coming back for me?” I hoped I wasn’t the reason her time with her family had been cut short.
She shrugged. “It’s more like you’re the excuse.
” She flashed me a grin just as the doors opened.
She started down the hallway first. “I started getting antsy last week. I was ready to come back, but Cora’s been in heaven having all of us together.
When I got the call about your niece, I knew it was time to return. ”
I winced.
She shook her head. “No. None of that. Trust me. My assistant is more than capable of handling this type of thing. I came back because I was ready to get back to work. I’ve kinda missed the team.”
“I still feel bad.”
“Don’t.” Her voice was firm. “If anything, blame the asshole who violated you and your niece’s privacy. Blame the first news outlet that agreed to run with the story. Blame them. Not yourself.”
I nodded. When she put it like that, some of my guilt eased, but in its place was a stone of anger.
Kashvi touched my arm, stalling me in the hallway.
“When we get in there, let me do the talking until the actual interview. When it comes to this sort of stuff, I let the veteran players say what they’d like.
You’ve done this song and dance. When you’ve said all you want to, you can shoot me a look if you need me to step in.
Also, I know you know this, but I’m going to say it anyway.
You signed up to play hockey. Along with that came some responsibilities for being a role model to younger hockey fans, but your niece did not.
Your sister did not. You do not have to say anything you don’t want to in there.
You control the interview, okay? Martine is a decent reporter.
More than likely she won’t push, but she’s still a reporter.
You decide what’s in the story, not anyone else.
Now.” She looked me over and gave a nod of approval. “You look good. You ready?”
I had on a black Grays blazer over dark slacks.
I didn’t think the pants would be a big deal, but I wanted to represent the team by looking professional, not too casual, so jeans or athletic joggers were out.
My hair was combed to the side, but I hadn’t had time to shave, so my face was a little scruffy.
Seemed appropriate considering my lack of sleep.
“Ready.”
She knocked, and the door opened.
Here we go.