Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
MORGAN
“Are you sure you’re going to make it through this meal?
” Audrey asks after the waiter brings our food.
The wait today was torturously long, as everyone in Boston has apparently decided to enjoy this beautiful fall day by going out to Sunday brunch.
I’m exhausted, and brunch has now run into the midday nap I was planning to take in order to make up for my lack of sleep this weekend.
I stayed up half the night Friday writing a statement from the Rebels and helping Aidan craft one he could post as well, despite the way he tried to get us off track every chance he got.
Then the story of Aidan’s “violently aggressive” return to Boston flooded the media on Saturday morning based on some videos people took at the bar the night before.
I spent most of Saturday at the Rebels practice facility working with the PR team on how to handle this and crafting the story we wanted to tell on social media.
AJ made a public statement about Aidan defending a fellow member of the Rebels staff who was being sexually harassed, so now I’m officially part of the story because I was in the video.
I had to fend off my dad’s questions about why Aidan and I were at a bar together, and then Natalie and I spent the rest of the day responding to comments on our social media platforms. The girl’s good, I’ll give her that.
We decided on a tone—we protect our own—and she went with it.
People were reposting our cheeky responses and, in general, the consensus was that Boston fans are glad Renaud is back, and everyone outside of Boston hates him.
I have a feeling he feeds off that energy, so maybe his return to the ice will be spectacular and this will all be okay for him, after all?
It doesn’t change the fact that I’m annoyed I had to spend all weekend dealing with his inability to avoid fighting.
I’ve asked myself many times if I’d be this frustrated if it were a different player, and the honest truth is, I don’t know.
There’s something mysterious and frustrating about how closed off Aidan is now that we’re back in Boston.
Every once in a while, like on Friday night at my place, I see the briefest glimpse of the man I met at a bar during a tropical storm.
But that persona seems buried deep down beneath whatever Aidan is working through right now.
“I’m fine. It was just a long weekend of work.
I hate to say this because I know you both are probably dreading it,” I glance between Jules and Audrey, “but I’m glad the team’s on the road this coming week.
I need some time to focus on my other clients too.
This has already been a lot more than I agreed to, and even though it will mean larger paychecks, it’s exhausting. ”
“At least they’re only gone for a night this time,” Audrey says, looking at Jules. “The long road trips are the hardest.”
The rest of the world thinks Colt and Jules were secretly dating all of last season.
But we know the truth . . . that what started out as a fake engagement during the playoffs quickly turned real.
Since travel during the playoffs is different from the regular season, she’s never had to be without him for more than a couple of nights.
“I’ll be fine,” she says breezily, sweeping her long blond hair over her shoulders. “I’ve got plenty of work to keep me busy.”
Jules may look like Barbie, but she runs an all-female construction crew, and the design and build firm she co-owns with Audrey has a nearly yearlong waitlist at this point.
We’ve been working on a plan to hire more female contractors by partnering with some of the local trade schools on a mentoring program that is near and dear to Jules’s heart, and we’ve made good progress but there’s still a long way to go.
Especially because I don’t have enough time to devote to it now that I’m working part time for the Rebels.
“I’m so glad you don’t have to travel with the team,” Audrey says to me. “Girls nights to watch the away games are the only thing that gets me through the time that Drew is gone.”
“I will absolutely be at your place for every away game,” I say.
As if we summoned her by talking about the Rebels, my phone lights up with a text from AJ.
AJ
Are you around? I need to run an idea by you. And I really need you to say yes.
My deep sigh has my friends asking me what’s wrong, and when I tell them about AJ’s text, Jules says, “Morgan, whatever it is, if you don’t want to, or you can’t because it’s too much, just say no.”
“It’s just work,” Audrey says.
“Easy for you to say, when your company is well established. I’m still in the building phase of my PR firm.
And currently, the Rebels are my biggest client.
” Yes, my company is growing and things are going well, but it’s still new and nearly half of small businesses fold within the first five years. I don’t want to be a statistic.
Besides, I’m not the kind of person who can just say no when a friend needs them. I know that my response should be based on my capacity at the moment and not on my friendship with AJ. But I also don’t want to let her down.
And honestly, the longer I’m with the Rebels, the more I realize how much they need someone with more knowledge and skill than Tatum has. It can’t be me because I’m not looking for a full-time job with them, but it could be Natalie after she graduates, if I can get her ready by then.
“Still, you are only one person, and there are only twenty-four hours in the day,” Jules says.
“I know, I just need to remember that when I talk to her.”
“If this helps at all,” Jules says, “when AJ first found out about Our House, she was very interested in having us do a remodel for her. But we didn’t jump right in and say yes or drop everything for her.
We simply told her we had a waitlist, and she understood.
It’s a good thing we didn’t drop everything back then, because we’re now slated to do a much larger project for her and McCabe when they combine their two condos. ”
I lift an eyebrow. “They’re already planning that?” The way they went from not knowing they lived right next to each other to practically married over the past three months is kind of wild.
Audrey laughs and says, “Well, at this point she has nine months to make sure, because that’s how far out she is on our waitlist right now. People wait for things they think are worth waiting for. You don’t need to drop everything or prioritize everyone else over yourself.”
It’s exactly the type of advice that I’d give a friend, and yet it stings being on the receiving end.
Because I do drop everything to help everyone else, all the time.
Deep down, in places I don’t like to explore often, I know that this stems from a fear that if I don’t prioritize other people, they’ll leave just like my mom did.
So I try to be whatever other people need me to be, instead of doing what’s best for myself.
I nod in agreement, because there’s a lump in my throat as I let this realization wash over me again.
It’s not new information. Years of therapy as a teenager and a degree in psychology have made the source of my people-pleasing traits abundantly clear.
But all the knowledge in the world doesn’t make it easier to change my behavior.
So while I’m finishing up my omelette and then saying goodbye to my friends, I’m mentally preparing to say “no” to whatever project AJ wants to give me. I don’t have time for more than I’ve already taken on, and the dark circles under my eyes are proof.
“No. No, no, no.” I shake my head like she can see me on the other end of the phone, while I pace back and forth in front of the large bay windows in my fifth-floor condo overlooking Newbury Street.
“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate, I promise you.”
“AJ, your desperation doesn’t magically create more hours in the day. When you add in Friday night and all day yesterday, I spent over thirty hours last week working on projects for the Rebels. That’s twice what we agreed on, and I still have my own company to run.”
“I swear, I don’t need you to be working for us the whole time we’re gone. I just need you to be with us to keep Renaud in line.”
“As appealing as being a traveling babysitter for a professional hockey player sounds . . . I can’t. You’re going to be there. You keep him in line. Or put his teammates on the job.”
Her sigh is deep and deliberate. “Colt, McCabe, and I were all at that bar Friday night, and that didn’t stop him from fighting. You did.”
“AJ, I fear your logic is backward. He wouldn’t have gotten in that fight if I hadn’t been there.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I think Renaud’s a loose cannon and Carter’s harassment was an excuse for him to let it all out. If it hadn’t been that situation, it would have been another.”
I think back to the way Aidan examined my face, searching for injuries, and how he seemed so pleased with himself when he had to stay longer at my place so we could craft an appropriate statement.
He wasn’t pleased with himself for getting in a fight.
He was pleased that it gave him a reason to be around me.
And sure, we’re friends now, so spending time together shouldn’t be a problem.
But spending time alone together definitely has me needing to remind myself why nothing can happen .
. . because when it’s just the two of us, he’s a different person.
But I can’t tell AJ any of that.
“What if I get him to promise that he won’t do anything stupid on the road this week?” I ask.
AJ’s laughter is deep and almost sultry. She reminds me so much of my former boss, Petra Ivanova. Petra is one of Lauren’s best friends, and the biggest badass I know. Which is saying something, given that I know AJ.
After I graduated from NYU, I moved to Park City, where Lauren and Petra were both living, to be Petra’s personal assistant at her event planning company.
She eventually ended up hosting a TV show in LA, then moved the show to New York so she could be with her now-husband, hockey player Aleksandr Ivanov.
The only reason I would consider saying yes to AJ’s request is that we’re playing in New York and I might be able to catch up with Petra.
In fact, if there is anyone I could tell about this whole situation with Aidan, it’s Petra.
She would keep my secret and it would be so nice to talk to someone removed from the situation.
“I really need you to be there to make sure this doesn’t go sideways for him,” AJ says. “His contract is up at the end of the season and I’d like to keep him. But, if he can’t rein in the fighting, I won’t renew his contract.”
That stops me in my tracks. “Does he know this?” I ask.
“He sure does.”
Damnit. He knew that fighting Carter would get him in trouble with AJ, and he did it anyway because he was protecting me. Now, the guilt weighs on me and I feel like I owe him this.
“Fine,” I say with a sigh. “Just for this one game.”
“Excellent,” AJ says. “He won’t even be playing in the following game, so that buys us some time.”
I don’t fully understand the rules around these preseason exhibition games, but I know that there are usually no more than eight veteran players participating in each game.
“The following game is at home. Let’s make sure this is figured out before the next away game.” My tone is a tad flippant because being at a home game is no big deal, but giving up multiple days to travel for away games is.
“Will do,” AJ says. “And truly, thank you for doing this.”
“It’s no problem.”
“We both know that’s not true. I’ll make sure you get time and a half for the trip since it’s outside your contracted hours.”
“I appreciate that,” I say, thinking how maybe, once my business is solid and I’ve saved a little money, I can finally move out of the condo I spent the first decade of life in.
Dad and I moved out to the house he still lives in, in Brookline, after Mom left, but he held onto the Boston condo and rented it.
And then I returned to Boston and needed a place to live.
As convenient as it is to live on Newbury Street, I don’t like to be a person who relies on Daddy’s money. I don’t think I’ll feel truly grown up until I’m entirely self-sufficient.
Morgan
Hey, any chance you’re free Wednesday night before the game to have dinner with me? I’ll be in town with the Rebels.
Petra
You traveling with the Rebels doesn’t even make sense to me, so obviously we need to catch up! I’ll make a dinner reservation for us close to the arena.