8. Savannah
Aiden left around ten o’clock to be at the arena by eleven, and I was thankful I kept my wits about me. He looked super sexy in his suit this morning, and when his voice spoke softly in my ear, I almost melted. I hadn’t wanted to kiss a man in years, but this was the first time I had been truly tempted.
I expected that Aiden thought by telling me that there was a chance I could run into his ex-wife, he would elicit some kind of negative reaction from me. I just stared at him and blinked innocently since Martha had already warned me of a possible encounter.
I hadn’t lied to Aiden when I told him I came prepared with the appropriate attire to attend the game. I’ve always been a fan of the Savannah Rockets since they’re the team I grew up with. It wasn’t until Aiden Shaw was signed as a free agent 14 years ago that I got my first jersey with his name on the back. I have jerseys with other players’ names as well, simply because I was young, and he wasn’t the only “smokin’ hot” one on the team. I have never had the opportunity to attend one of his games in person, and I’m really looking forward to finally doing so tonight.
As I get dressed, I opt for a baseball cap instead of my beanie. It will be easier to pull it down so that it shields my face should I get caught on camera. I’m not famous, but anyone who has lived in Savannah for at least fifteen years could recognize me. I want to reduce the chances of that happening. I’m assuming that the only reason Aiden hasn’t figured out who I am is because he was away at college when I gained most of my notoriety.
When I come downstairs, Penny and Martha are waiting for me. Both are wearing Rockets paraphernalia that clearly sports the Shaw name. “What do you think?” I turn in a circle with my arms stretched out to show them my full get-up.
Penny scrunches her nose, but Martha bursts out laughing. “If you wanted to get my son’s attention, that would do it.”
“What? You don’t think he’ll like it?” I tease.
“No,” Penny says emphatically.
Martha wipes away a tear from giggling, “You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that.” She sends a quick text and before I know it, our entourage has returned. Jack, Jeremy, David, and Scott all smile when they see what I’m wearing.
With traffic, it takes us about an hour to get to the game. I imagine that the parking lot to be a zoo when we arrive—and it is—but we have VIP parking and are able to avoid most of the crowds. Tailgaters are everywhere, having a wonderful time and partying it up. As family members, we’re escorted through the tunnels to our seats, which are roped off specifically for the players’ special guests. A few female fans to our left and on the other side of the rope give me some scathing looks while others look relieved.
I guess those ladies are the “puck bunnies,” which is a term used for women looking to hitch their ride to a player. I ignore them, scanning the crowd for any potential threats before taking my seat. Martha and I have Penny wedged between us while Jack and Scott box us in. David and Jeremy are in the fan section but close enough to reach us quickly if needed. Perfect.
I notice that there is an empty seat on the other side of Martha, between her and Jack. “Martha, is that seat saved for Reggie?”
“It is. He’s going to get off work early today so that he can be here. I just hope he makes it before the game starts.”
Reginald Shaw grew up wealthy and never had to work a day in his life if that had been what he wanted. However, he has always been driven and now owns a very successful marketing firm in the heart of Savannah. According to my file, he also has a department within his company comprised of a devoted team of agents who manage other athletes’ careers. Reggie personally takes care of Aiden and Swank.
I continue to scan the crowd, not making eye contact with Martha when I ask her, “How did Reggie go from marketing to becoming a sports agent?”
“It started when Swank was drafted out of college and wanted someone trustworthy to look out for him. When he asked Reggie, my husband delved deep into learning all he could about becoming an agent. Swank landed one of the highest-paid contracts for that year’s draft at $400,000, and people started talking. It was only surpassed when Aiden was signed on two years later. That’s the moment things really took off for him. When other players started seeking out Reggie to represent them, he decided to create a team of agents. Reggie never wanted to be an agent, which is why he only represents Aiden and Swank. Oh, there he is!”
Penny starts bouncing in her seat, thrilled that her grandpa has arrived and comes bearing gifts. “Grandpa bought snacks!”
I stand up to help him, but Jack beats me to it, taking one of the boxes containing four drinks and a dozen hot dogs. The remaining box has four drinks, four hotdogs, a bucket of popcorn, and a box of licorice. He’s got the balancing act down to a science, and I have to admit, I’m impressed.
Once Reggie is seated, he passes out the hotdogs and drinks while Jack does the same for the security team. “Anna, I didn’t know what you wanted to drink, but I didn’t figure that soda was your thing. I have sweet tea and unsweet tea. Which would you prefer? I like both and can drink whichever one you don’t want.”
“Thank you, Reggie. I’ll take the unsweet tea, please. I prefer to save my calories for things like hotdogs. And if I had to guess, you like things on the sweeter side, hence your beautiful wife.”
Martha beams at me, “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
Soon, the crowd begins chanting and stomping their feet as the Rockets take to the ice to begin their pre-game warmups. The other team follows shortly after, only to be greeted by “boos.” The arena continues to fill up with fans, and the energy ramps up proportionately. It’s hard to stay focused when there is so much excitement, but I continue to keep my head on a swivel.
Aiden jumps into the players’ box and blows a kiss to Penny, who giggles and blows one back to her dad. Aiden is all smiles until his eyes lock with mine and he notices what I’m wearing. He simply mouths, “Payback,” before skating off. Eventually, the two teams leave the ice and return to their respective locker rooms for any last-minute pep talks from their coach.
Penny nudges me and tries to point inconspicuously at a woman with bleached blond hair, lips full of filler, cheek implants, and eyebrows plucked to perfection. “That’s Patricia.” I watch as Penny’s mother takes a seat butted up against the rope, but not actually in the section specifically for the players’ families. The woman in question gives me a small wave of her fingers and a malicious grin, letting me know that she has her eye on me as much as I do on her. Behind her sits David, who gives me a subtle nod that he’s got our back.
When the teams return, I watch as Aiden takes a knee and prays before skating around the rink and rallying the fans. With Georgia being part of “the Bible Belt,” it’s no surprise that the crowd goes wild when he does it. Aiden has done that before every game, and a part of me wonders if that’s why he’s so blessed. Maybe if I had the same results when I had prayed, I would be on speaking terms with God. For now, God and I have an understanding. If I don’t ask Him for anything, He can’t tell me “No.”
“Martha, does Aiden pray in front of everybody for attention?” I ask, wondering how much of it is for show. There has to be a reason for the display since he’s the only player on his team to do it, and a small part of me is curious if it’s genuine or simply a marketing ploy.
Penny is the first to answer, “It’s because he loves Jesus, Anna. Do you love Jesus?”
That is certainly a can of worms I hadn’t intended to open and am not ready to discuss with a six-year-old little girl, no matter how smart she is.
Martha notices my grimace and quickly interjects so that I don’t have to answer Penny. “Aiden prays before every game and thanks God afterward, win or lose. He’s even had beer cans thrown at him from the crowds before, along with jeers and threats. He doesn’t care. You asked if Aiden does it to get attention, and the answer is ‘Yes,’ but not for his sake. He does it to draw attention to the One who gave him the gift to play hockey in the first place.”
“So, God gets all the glory, and it has nothing to do with all the hard work Aiden has put in; the long practices, the injuries, or the sweat he’s poured onto that ice?” I retort.
I expect Martha or Reggie to get upset by my words, but they don’t. Martha reaches across Penny and squeezes my hand, looking me straight in the eye. “Yes, God gets the glory. God gives us each a gift, and it’s different for everybody. It’s what we do with that gift that’s important. Look at Swank. He’s had the same opportunities and the same talent, but between the two boys, who is the greater role model for young children? The man that prays? Or the man that parties? Who has had a bigger impact?” She pauses for effect before continuing with a motherly tone, “I’m going to leave you with one question to think about, Anna, and I don’t want or need an answer. Of all the players from both teams, who grabbed your attention and why?”
I could tell her that Aiden has always grabbed my attention, but then I truly take a moment to think about her question. Why hasn’t Swank captivated me in the same way? They’re both strikingly handsome and talented. The answer is clear. There is a goodness in Aiden that makes him shine brighter than everyone else.
True to her word, Martha lets the conversation drop, stands for the national anthem, and cheers Aiden on. I watch in awe as Aiden effortlessly takes control of the puck during the face-off, passing it to Swank. The two of them together on the ice make for an indomitable pair, which is expected since they’ve been playing together for more than two decades. The only gap in their dynamic duo was when Swank was drafted and Aiden finished school. When Aiden retires at the end of the season, Swank will be forced to either step up or follow suit.
A shiver racks my body, and it’s not from the chilly air inside the arena. It’s from the intense feeling of being watched as if I’m under a microscope. It finally gets the better of me, and I look over my shoulder toward Patricia, who is actually watching the game and not me. More specifically, her focus is solely on Aiden.
I continue to peruse the crowd in search of the source of my discomfort. Five rows above David are two men who look like they just stepped off the movie set of The Godfather and are staring intently at Penny and me. The malice in their eyes is pure evil, and I’ve seen it plenty of times before. You can’t be in my line of work and not encounter it. When David realizes I’m not looking at him, he follows my line of sight and moves in their direction. Recognizing they’ve been made, the two men leave with one of our bodyguards in pursuit.
I text the rest of the team a quick message about the situation and receive a reply back from Jeremy, who had witnessed the exchange and is already en route to back up his partner. After the encounter, I can no longer enjoy the game with the same level of enthusiasm, aware of the potential threat that’s looming.
Martha and Reggie can tell by my heightened state of awareness that something is very wrong and offer to leave early, but I shake my head. We need to wait until David and Jeremy return. I want all four of them around when it’s time for us to go, which can’t come soon enough.
The fourth quarter seems to drag on when all I want to do is leave and get Penny home to safety. Jeremy and David show up in the last two minutes of the game empty-handed and with grim faces, which doesn’t bode well. We’ll have to debrief later when Penny isn’t around.
Finally, the game ends with the sound of a loud buzzer and the Savannah Rockets beating the Jacksonville Jackals three to one. Aiden had landed himself in the penalty box once, while Swank managed to be there twice. The game was vicious, and the Jackals were certainly trying to take out the Rockets’ two best players. At one point, they had Aiden pinned up against the glass, punching him in the gut and leaving him with a cut over his left eye. Swank didn’t fare much better. Neither man fought back, allowing the other team to receive the penalty for fighting and making way for the Rockets to score the two extra points that won the game.
I grab Penny’s hand in mine, “It’s time to go.”
“But we always visit my dad after the game.” She sticks out her lower lip and pouts, which doesn’t work on me. I only relent when Martha provides me with a little more information.
“Anna, the families stay here until most of the fans have vacated, and then we’re all escorted to the tunnels by armed security personnel. We won’t be alone.”
I don’t like the situation, but it’s my job to protect my client in public. If it wasn’t for Penny being six, I’d be far more comfortable with the idea. I acquiesce, even though every fiber of my body screams for us to get out of here as soon as possible.
Just as Martha predicted, half a dozen police officers lead us downstairs, where we’re supposed to wait for the players to exit the locker room. One player is still in uniform, engaged in a conversation with Patricia of all people.
I can’t hear what Aiden is saying to her from where I’m standing, but Patricia’s expression is one of pure joy—the complete antithesis to the stone-cold look Aiden is sporting. Patricia kisses Aiden’s cheek before he heads into the locker room, oblivious to our arrival. She stops in her tracks when she sees us, but then a salacious grin forms on her lips. Patricia strides up to Penny, and I instinctively put myself between them.
Patricia leans forward and gets in my personal space, but I don’t flinch. Her whispered words do nothing to elicit a reaction from me. “He’s mine. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back, and you can watch it from your gold-digging hole.” Then she turns down and smiles sweetly at Penny, who is scowling at her mother in return, “I’ll be seeing you real soon, Daughter of mine.”