Chapter 6-Ezra
Some things are better left unsaid.
“How does it feel being on the sidelines these days instead of playing the sport you love? Or, will you stick to the owner’s box for games?” the reporter asks, giving me a smarmy grin. They do love to invoke emotions, positive or otherwise. Makes for a better story.
What was it Callie told me the other night? We don’t have to be friends to be civil. It takes every ounce of civility to answer his question with a smile. “My physical whereabouts on game days may vary but it feels like success when I can bring the highest level of professional hockey to this amazing city and be part of a dynamic new team and staff…”
Catching my PR manager’s relieved look, I have to bite back a chuckle. She knows I absolutely despise this but I know how to behave in a room full of reporters. Mostly. If they knew how I’m sweating under my thousand-dollar suit, they’d be circling like sharks. At the fan night event two weeks ago, it was easy to sneak away to collect myself. There were plenty of players to hold their attention. Here, it’s just me.
I fake a fresh smile when the next question is lobbed my way, one I’ve been expecting.
“It was announced earlier today that your brother has been released from his contract a week after he was involved in another fight and lost his biggest endorsement sponsorship. Some would suggest his career is in a tailspin but he’s hinted that he’s planning a move to the West Coast. Any thoughts on that, Ezra?”
My thoughts are you need to ask a direct question if you want a direct answer. “I wish my brother success wherever he goes. Chase always gives one hundred and ten percent on the ice. Next question.”
He called me this morning before the news even broke. ‘Please, Ez.’ Twenty-seven and he still sounds like a little kid when he begs. And, just like after Mom left and he’d beg to sleep in my bed at night, I’d caved. ‘Look after Chase,’ they’d always told me growing up from the time I became a big brother. I feel like that’s all I’ll ever do.
He must abide by my conditions if he wants to be part of this team. It’s more than his career that’s in a tailspin. Alcohol and anger, they seem to be fueling his every move lately. I want to fix that. But, I’m ashamed to admit there’s a selfish part of me that hopes he won’t come out west for reasons that center around a pair of lovely but wary hazel eyes.
The next reporter is determined to invoke something in me but not my anger given the way she tosses her brunette curls. “Word is you’ve got a falcon tattoo somewhere but no one has publicly confirmed it. Care to share if it’s true and where it’s located, Ezra?” Amber Ellis asks, giving me a sultry smile as her eyes dip down my frame.
I give the sultry smile right back, pleased to disappoint her. “If it exists, I’d say it’s on my skin somewhere, Amber. I hear that’s where most tattoos are.” And, it’s not a goddamn falcon.
The laughter which follows gives me the chance I’ve been hoping for. “Forgive me, ladies and gentlemen, but I see my assistant is signaling me.” Celeste, bless her, immediately starts frantically waving her arms at the back of the room. Better late than never.
An advantage in size has never been more appreciated than when I’m trying to escape a crowd. The members of the press are forced to part ways before me as I stride away from the podium.
It also helps being a head taller than most when I catch sight of Callie. What’s she doing here? She agreed she’d keep working on the arena but I didn’t expect her to return here without another demand on my end. She dressed up for the fan event, more than most attendees but she’s just as sexy in that skirt and those heels with her hair tightly pinned up.
A local podcaster who I know to be a true hockey fan is the only person present who dares delay me as I head Callie’s way. “We’ll miss seeing you out there, Falcon. Looking forward to seeing the Fog in action this coming season.”
“Thank you, Emmy. The guys all loved the red velvet cupcakes you sent over last week.”
The sixty-year-old grins proudly, her attempt to cajole me through my players’ stomachs worked, and she boldly asks for a one-on-one with me. “I never do one-on-ones.” The first and only time I did one, the interviewer was hoping for a sob story to boost ratings and started asking about my mother. The interview was over before it began.
“We’d just talk hockey, two life-long devotees to the sport, no pressure.”
It’s hard to say no when she’s bravely holding her own against far bigger names in broadcasting and baking cupcakes. “Alright, Emmy. For you only. Set it up with Celeste and I’ll be there.”
I’m devoted to building a reputation for my team and my company in this city. Community involvement and giving back is a big part of that. No, it’s not required that I give preferential attention to local podcasters no more than it’s required that I deal with the day-to-day hassles of my company or the team. I still do it. For all his faults, my father succeeded in drilling a good work ethic and a sense of duty into me.
“What brings you here, Ms. Anderson?” I ask once I finally reach Callie, guiding her into the arena where I know security will bar the press from entering.
The night of the fan event I didn’t get to talk to her alone again after the unveiling of her greeter bots. I regretted that as much as I loathed seeing her with Dud. If she had been my date, I would never have walked away and left her standing with another man. God knows, I was busy watching her from above the moment she had stepped in here. The second that man bumped shoulders with her and leaned in closer, I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer.
She doesn’t answer my question right away. She stares at the players who are currently practicing on the ice below. “I heard there’ll be a figure skating competition hosted here next month,” she murmurs, watching the practice with a far-away look in her eyes.
“Yes, the facility is intended to be multipurpose. Did you want tickets?” She shakes her head. “Would you care to see the owner’s box? It’s warmer there.”
She’s only wearing a silk blouse and the chill in here is having a physical effect, one that makes my cock twitch. I tear my eyes away from the sight of those pebbled nipples as she turns her gaze toward me. “Yes, I’d like that.”
We climb the steps, my hand naturally seeking her back to steady her in those heels. Passing through the secured entrance, she comes to the point of her visit. “Is he coming to play here?”
Ah.Her hands are clasped tightly together. Is that despair or longing I see in her eyes?
“Possibly but Chase will be taking a break from playing for a couple of months.”
“If he is coming here, will you tell me?”
“Before it’s announced publicly?” She nods. I’m not obligated to tell her ahead of anyone else. But, I know I won’t deny her. “Will you fly away again if he does?”
“Unlike New Jersey, San Francisco is my home. I’m not leaving it for anyone,” she says, firmly. Good. “Will you let me know, Ezra?”
“If you wish, hummingbird.”
Her eyes turn glassy, causing a familiar ache to build inside my chest before she blinks away the vulnerability. “Thank you, I wish it. Did you remember how I like them or was it simply the mask at the ball?”
“I remembered.”
The one and only time I saw Callie’s college dorm room it was decorated with posters and artwork of hummingbirds. She told me thirty-two facts about them before she caught my smirk and mistook it for mocking. I’d told her I never expected such devotion to ornithology from a computer nerd, trying to make her laugh. I’d failed as I usually did when it came to Callie.
She makes her excuses to go but I don’t want her to leave. “You came here straight from work to ask me about him this afternoon?”
“Of course, I did.”
The answer does not please me. Does she still have some ax to grind? Or does she still care about him? “You don’t have to go out of your way to speak to me. I have a phone.”
“I don’t have your number.”
“I would gladly give it to you.”
“Who says I’d want it?” I grin, glad of the playful lilt in her tone.
“You want my number.”
She shakes her head, trying and failing to hide her grin. “You wish, Big Bird.”
I laugh and, before she can try to leave again, I hear the words spilling from my mouth. “Have dinner with me.”
You’d swear I just threatened her life the way she startles. “Why?”
“Why not? We’re old acquaintances.”
“We’re old adversaries, Ezra. Or, have you forgotten that?”
Mistrust dances in her eyes and I can’t blame her. I didn’t believe her story and I made my feelings on the matter very clear. There’s no pill more bitter than the ones we choose to swallow.
“I don’t want us to be adversarial, Callie.”
“Well, I suppose we can be civil since I’m forced to work for you until this job is done.”
Ouch.
“Do you really have a secret tattoo like the pretty reporter asked about?” Ruefully, I draw a finger up to my mouth and pretend to zip my lips. She laughs out loud and I love that, knowing she’ll never know the truth. “That reporter who was asking about you being on the sidelines, he was rude.”
I shrug. “He’s got a job to do.”
“Do you miss it?” she asks next, jerking her chin toward the rink far below.
“Everyday. But everyday, I get out of bed and decide I have better things to do than regret the things I’m not meant to have.”
Things like you.