Chapter 2 #3
By the end of two hours, she had a decent list of topics to work from, as well as quite a few accompanying pictures Tank shared from his phone.
More than that, he’d started to relax, telling her a lot of funny stories from the locker room and the road.
Here in his own home, without anyone to show off for, he’d shed his over-the-top personality and instead let her see what she was coming to realize was the real him.
Without his swagger, cocky grins, and disgusting locker room talk—which she was sure was for her benefit, meant to either make her blush or scowl—Tank was pretty chill, and he had a wicked sense of humor. He was popular amongst his teammates, and for the first time, she began to understand why.
“This a good start,” she said, closing her laptop and tucking it into her bag.
Tank leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, drawing her attention to his muscular arms. Welcome to the gun show.
“You got a boyfriend, Mouse?”
“I’m not here to talk about me.”
Tank grunted. “You’ve been swimming around in my personal life for the past two hours.”
McKenna pierced him with a look. “And whose fault is that?”
“Dammit, Mouse! I’m not going to apologize for having consensual sex with two women. I know you made me read that stupid lawyer-approved statement, but I’m not sorry about that night. I enjoyed being with Emily and Lara, and there’s nothing wrong with the things we did together.”
“I’m not saying there is, and I’m also not judging you, Tank,” she replied calmly.
“But you have to understand that you are a public figure, and for better or worse, your actions reflect on the team and even on the city, because as a Stingray, you represent Baltimore. There are a lot of people in the world who will judge you for that video, for all kinds of reasons, based on what they believe. Those conservative mother groups are inundating TikTok with videos condemning you. As a professional athlete, you live under a microscope, so you’re not going to be able to fly under the radar the way the rest of us can. ”
Tank sighed. “I get it. I don’t like it…but I get it.”
“Since becoming president of the organization, James has been very definite about how he wants the team branded, and your lifestyle doesn’t exactly fit the family-friendly vibe he’s going for.”
Tank snorted. “I happen to think I’m very friendly.”
“You’re impossible,” she said, with no real heat. Ordinarily, Tank drove her up the wall with his brash attitude, but today, she felt like she’d gotten a small peek at the man underneath the obnoxious charmer.
“I’m starting to win you over, aren’t I?”
She shook her head, refusing to give him an inch. For all she knew, he was playing her, attempting to sneak in and steal her upper hand. “I haven’t gotten much sleep the past couple of nights.”
“Sorry about that.”
She studied his face, sensing he was sincere about that apology.
“So…got a boyfriend?” he asked, repeating his question.
She shook her head, deciding the quickest way to shut this conversation down was to just answer. “No.”
“Dating anybody?”
Again, she shook her head. “I’m new to Baltimore, and my job is demanding. I’m focused on proving myself at the office, so that doesn’t leave a lot of time for a social life. I haven’t met many people outside work.”
“There are plenty of single men in the organization. Hell, you’re surrounded by a whole team of hot hockey players every day.”
McKenna huffed out a loud “ha,” followed by a “no thanks.”
Tank frowned, confused by her response.
Before he could question her, she raised a hand and lifted one finger. “I will never date a hockey player.” She added a second finger. “And I will never date someone from work.”
“Never is a long time.”
“And yet, still not long enough.” She was aware her tone had gotten way too forceful, so she turned away from him, packing up her notebook so he’d know that subject was closed.
“Well, I think we’re done for the day. I want to get back to the office, make notes on what we discussed, and start building some of those posts.
Then I need to grab dinner before the game. ”
Tank’s face fell when she mentioned the game. “Gonna suck not being there.”
“It’s only two weeks,” she said, hoping to cheer him up.
She failed.
“Six games,” he muttered. “I’ve never missed six games in a season. Ever. Not even when I was a kid and had the chicken pox. That only took me out for four.”
McKenna didn’t know how to make him feel better, so she went for distraction instead.
Picking up a copy of the publicity schedule she’d printed out for him, she pointed to it.
“The day after tomorrow, we’ll meet here again and go to the VA hospital together.
I’ll have some swag for you to sign and hand out.
And no need to dress up. I think it would be cool if you just wanted to wear some Stingrays’ apparel. ”
“Okay.” He glanced at the paper.
“I didn’t want to schedule anything right on the heels of the video, so there’s nothing public for tomorrow.
I’ll stop by in the morning again and show you some of the posts I plan to create this afternoon.
I’ll start scheduling them to release, one every few days to start out with, though I’ll slow that down eventually and put you back in the normal rotation with the other guys on the team.
“In the meantime, maybe you could come up with a list of other positive stuff we can include. What we’ve generated today is a good start, but I’d like to keep the posts coming out consistently for the rest of the season.
So we need a lot more,” she said. “I was hoping… I would like…” She took a deep breath, recalling she was the boss right now.
“Don’t leave your apartment until the VA visit.
If you need food, get it delivered. I suspect the handful of reporters outside will give up sooner rather than later, especially since the temperature’s not supposed to crack the teens tomorrow.
I’m not sure your scandal is big enough for anyone to risk frostbite. ”
“Hope you’re right, Mouse.”
She pushed up her glasses, the damn things always sliding down her nose. “Why do you call me that?”
Tank’s grin widened as he stood. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me. The first day we met was in the hallway outside the PR department, remember?”
She nodded, because she did recall that. She remembered being blown away by Tank’s size and his charming smile, and she’d made a mental note right then and there to steer clear of the man, because she could tell he was trouble with a capital T.
“You were wearing a Mickey Mouse T-shirt,” he explained, “and you had your hair pinned up in these cute little buns on the side of your head. You reminded me of one of those Mouseketeers. You one of those big fans of Disney World or something? Because I’ve noticed you’ve got a Mickey key chain, and you seem to have more than a few Mickey Mouse T-shirts. ”
While McKenna refused to admit it, now that she knew his reason for the nickname, she hated it a lot less.
“Oh. The Mickey thing is my mom’s doing.
Apparently when I was a one-year-old, I absolutely loved it whenever Mickey came on the television.
I’d start laughing and clapping my hands.
My mom started calling me Mickey after that.
He and I share a lot of the same letters…
M, C, K. The nickname stuck, and so did the gifts.
Mom is always on the hunt for unique Mickey Mouse stuff.
I own way too much of it for someone who doesn’t even particularly like Disney.
I tried to put my foot down a few years ago, told her enough was enough.
It didn’t work. She still gives me a new Mickey Mouse T-shirt or pajamas every year for Christmas.
I guess it’s too hard for moms to break traditions like that. ”
“Mickey, huh? I like it.”
McKenna pointed a finger in Tank’s face. “My mother is the only one who calls me Mickey.”
Tank chuckled as he reached out to toy with one of her “Mouseketeer” buns. “That’s not a problem. I’ve already got my own nickname for you, Mouse.”
McKenna rolled her eyes, though she was a hell of a lot less annoyed now that she knew he didn’t call her that because he’d mistaken her for some timid creature. “You and everyone else. It’s very rare when anyone calls me by my full name.”
Tank nodded. “Yeah, I noticed you’re Mac at work.”
“And my dad calls me…K-Kenny.” McKenna stumbled, shocked she’d shared that with Tank. Her relationship with her father was beyond complicated, so it was rare for her to even mention the man. “I guess I just have one of those names that work a million different ways,” she added hastily.
“I’m no stranger to nicknames myself, though everyone uses the same one. Funny, but now that I think about it, my mom gave me my nickname, too.”
“Really?” she said. “I would have thought the Tank nickname was one you picked up over the years from playing hockey.”
“Nope,” he said. “My mom started using it when I was three. I’ve always been a bit of a brute.
I used to rearrange the furniture in our house, moving really heavy-ass shit whenever Mom wasn’t looking.
Said she left me alone in the den once for a few minutes and when she got back, I’d pushed my dad’s recliner all the way across the room.
Thing weighed a ton. Started calling me her little Tank. ”
McKenna enjoyed his story. “I love that. You know what? Nicknames would be a great series of posts for social media. A lot of the guys have them. I’m going to start asking them where they got their nicknames from.”
“That’s a fun idea,” he agreed.
The two of them walked to the door. Tank leaned on the doorjamb as she turned to say goodbye.
“Thanks for all your help,” he said, with a sincerity that caught her off guard.
She shrugged. “No problem.” Then she realized she probably should have put stricter parameters on his short-term house arrest, especially since he didn’t put up much of a fight.
“When I say stay in, I mean alone. You got that, right?”
Tank reached over, gently pushing her glasses up on her nose before bopping the tip of it. “You starting to get jealous, Mouse?”
She tilted her head. “I’m being serious, Tank.”
Tank chuckled. “So am I.”
McKenna started to come back at him, but he quickly threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll be good,” he said, drawing a cross over his heart. “No sleepovers, no fun. I know the drill.”
“Great. See you tomorrow morning.”
Tank remained in the doorway until she got to the elevator and pushed the button, and he was still there when she got on.
Just before the doors closed, he gave her one final wave, and while she knew he was sleeping in the bed he’d made, the glimmer of true sadness in his eyes almost had her going back and offering to watch the game with him, even though she was needed in the press box.
She resisted that tug.
Breathing a sigh of relief when she reached the lobby, she walked to her car, proud of her first day’s efforts.
Now, she just had to stay the course, keeping Tank out of trouble while resisting his gorgeous face, eight-pack abs, and charming smile.
Piece of cake.
Ha ha.