Chapter 7 #2
Taking a sip, I wince and hand it back to him. The taste of banana and raw egg goes sour in my mouth as I watch the expectant look on Lindgren’s face. Part of me thinks he might be the only one who thinks this will turn out positive in some way.
“I’m out for eight games.” I drop onto the couch, let my head fall back and stare at the ceiling like the answers to all my problems might be found up there. “Harry’s about one breath away from spontaneous combustion.”
“Eight games?” Lindgren sounds borderline panicked. “What are we going to do without you for eight games?”
“Well, apparently Harry has that part covered. They’re flying in some other defenseman who’s better at staying out of trouble.”
“You’re kidding,” Lindgren says, a frown on his face. “He can’t do that.”
“He can and he is.”
I get up from my seat, the need to hit something or someone burning inside of me. I just got out of the gym, but I feel ready to head back. Or maybe I should just go for a run and stop when I’ve figured out how I got to this point.
“We need you on the ice. The team doesn’t function the same without you and Mitch, you know this. How does Harry expect us to win a game when our defense is shot?”
I ignore his panic attack. At least he’ll be on the ice to try and do something about it, along with the other defensive pairs who’ll just have to step it up.
I’m the one who’s not even allowed to attend practice, not allowed to put on my jersey.
I should consider myself lucky that Harry even wants me to attend the charity dinner tonight.
Although knowing him, it’s part of my punishment.
“And Brodin?” Lindgren asks.
“Out until further notice.” I rub my temples, the pain in my head getting worse. “Concussion protocol.”
Lindgren grimaces. “That’s bad.”
He moves into my field of sight, his light hair and friendly demeanour overwhelming as he flashes me a smile.
“But we’ve all been there right?” he says, trying to lighten the mood but only succeeding in adding to my already giant mountain of frustration.
His words light a fuse. “You’ve been suspended for taking someone’s head off mid-play?
Had another player carted off the ice and your GM threaten to chain you to a PR handler for the rest of the season?
” A laugh escapes me. “That’s if your GM doesn’t do good on the threat to trade you to another team before then. ”
“Well, no—”
“So no, then.” I turn my back on him, on the expression on his face as I head to my room. “Appreciate the pep talk, though.”
I need a shower. Perhaps the water will wash away everything along with the smell of disappointment that seems to stick to me.
I knew going after Brodin would be a bad call. But in that moment, when I made the choice to go for the hit…it was like my mind was blank. The only thing that was in front of me was a chance to take control of something, and I did.
I didn’t think that in doing so, I’m taking control of my own downfall.
Fines and suspensions follow you around your entire career. Every time they write about me now, they’ll pull up these headlines. They’ll remind everyone about my past mistakes. Every time contracts are negotiated, I’ll have to answer questions about my tendency toward aggression.
But I can’t think about that right now.
All I have to focus on is finding a way to fix this
Pulling up Lucas’s number, I take a deep breath, hating that it’s come to this.
Fine, set it up for tonight. No promises.
Just try to be nice.
I scoff. EJ said I don’t know how to be nice…so we’ll have to see what happens.
* * *
Leaning against the bar, I stare at the screen of my phone, rereading the message from my Aunt Kat for the millionth time.
Sweetheart, I saw what happened. Please, call me when you have a moment? I miss you, and would love to catch up.
I shove the phone back into my pocket, refusing to get too caught up in the emotions stirring in my chest. My Aunt has always been there when neither one of my parents could muster up enough time or effort between the two of them.
She stepped in whenever I needed her, offered me a room, a bed, a meal… anything I ever needed.
And what do I do in return?
I can’t even text her back. I just can’t.
“Do you have your cheat sheet?” Jenn asks from behind me. I turn to find her looking like always...dark hair in a tight bun, her giant maroon glasses resting on her tiny nose. Yet she looks like she could take you down with nothing but a glance.
I tap my front pocket. “I have it, thanks Jenn.”
“Use it,” she says, glancing over her shoulder to where a few reporters are waiting for interviews. “Harry wants you to go over there in a few minutes.”
The barman sets down my drink and I stare at the golden liquid for a second before picking it up and taking a sip. Jenn’s gaze doesn’t leave me as she narrows her eyes.
“That better be apple juice, Murphy,” she grits out.
“It’s not.”
She takes a step closer. She’s a real shorty, not even properly reaching my chest, but the look in her eyes make it seem like she’s towering over me. I gently set the glass down on the bar counter and slide it away from me.
“Fine, Jenn. Calm down.”
“Don’t mess this up,” she says with a stern voice. “Now where’s the date I saw you with earlier? She’s the right type of media attention you need tonight. Just find her, talk, laugh a bit and then I’ll meet you over at the press area. After that, it’s donor schmoozing.”
I sigh, wishing I took a bigger sip of my drink. Tugging on my tie, I adjust my jacket and hope I look more confident than I feel right now.
“You’ve got this all planned out, huh?” I ask, looking at the bunch of reporters who are looking at me like I’m a bucket of chum that’s just been tossed into their shark infested waters.
“Life needs to be planned out, otherwise it doesn’t work.” She takes out her phone and starts tapping on the screen with her stylus. “You’re a prime example of what happens when you lead with your emotions.”
She adjusts her glasses and swipes on the screen. “Your ability to charm others until they believe you should help you in this case.”
I frown. “I don’t think that was a compliment.”
“It wasn’t,” she says, practically shoving me toward the date Lucas arranged for me. “Now go.”
Dragging my feet, I head toward the woman who’s standing next to Hannah and Lucas.
She came with them and I only barely made it through the introductions before I managed to escape.
She’s not unpleasant…it’s just very hard to have a conversation with her.
Which is baffling because I’ve never had a problem talking to a woman before.
Maybe it’s just because I’m not invested in this whole spiel I have to put up tonight. I feel like an idiot in a suit, one that has to perform and jump and do whatever in order to please everyone.
A new low…even for me.
Lucas gives me an encouraging smile as I dig my hands in my pockets. They feel empty without a drink in my grip.
“So you play with Lucas on the team?” My date asks as I step closer to the three of them. “Hannah said I should watch a game some time, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to follow.”
She’s dressed in a sleek black dress, the halter neck making sure everything is covered and leaving her shoulders and arms bare. She looks great, I can’t argue that. It’s strange to have a woman by my side who dresses and acts this…modestly.
Especially around me.
“I’m not much of a sports fan, but I know the Rangers are one of the best teams out there,” she says, her voice too sweet as she stares at me wide-eyed.
I don’t know if I like the fact that she doesn’t know what I do, or if it might just be refreshing.
“It must be crazy scoring touchdowns on the ice,” she says.
Nope. Not refreshing.
“I’m a defenseman,” I say, wondering how Lucas thought I’d be able to talk to someone who doesn’t even know how hockey works. “And touchdowns are for football.”
She blushes. “I’m sorry,” she says, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.
She’s not totally unpleasant to look at, but something about her seems…I don’t know. I wouldn’t pick this woman out of a crowd.
“How do you know each other again?” I ask her, looking between her and Hannah, wondering how they met if she doesn’t know anything about hockey.
Besides, Lucas knows how our lives look. What made him think it was a good idea to set me up with someone who wouldn’t be able to talk to me about something that takes up about ninety percent of my time.
I gesture toward the waiter making his rounds between the guests in the room carrying a tray of champagne. In my peripheral vision, I catch Jenn watching me like a hawk.
Perhaps we should’ve gotten coffee first, then I could’ve bailed on the date. But now, we all took the time to dress up and show up at the event. Plus not only is Jenn giving me the side-eye, I’m very aware of Harry’s gaze boring into my back.
The waiter comes over and instead of listening to what my date says, I turn to the waiter. “I need you to bring me some water,” I practically grit out. Lucas smiles at me, and I tighten my fists in my pockets. “With ice.”
The waiter nods and turns to the woman across from me. “Anything for you?”
“No, thank you,” she says with a cautious smile. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I ask as soon as the waiter left. “I was a bit preoccupied with my dry throat.”
Lucas glares at me, while Hannah gently rests her hand on his arm.
“I said, I know Hannah from Bible study.” The woman smiles at Hannah.
Bible study. Great.
The last time I went to church was with my aunt and my parents.
Parents who, despite sitting through Sunday sermons, decided to get divorced.
After which my dad decided to give his undivided attention to alcohol and my mom gave hers to whichever man she could find.
When I started to make a name for myself in the NHL, my dad actually started calling me again, only to get a slice of the pie.
My mom is still happily living somewhere with her newest husband.
So I’m not sure what the purpose of going to church, or attending bible study is. It’s never really gotten me anywhere.
“And you agreed to this, why?” I ask as soon as the waiter brings me my water. I take a big sip, pretending it’s something stronger. “It doesn’t seem like you know me. Why would you agree to come to this event with me?”
She frowns, like the words that are coming out of my mouth were in some foreign language. She looks at Hannah with a nervous expression on her face.
“Isn’t that the definition of a blind date?” she says, a small laugh spilling from her lips. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me?”
“I guess so,” I say shrugging, rocking on my feet and sticking my hand in my pocket. I’m starting to feel antsy. The room and people in it are too perfect and I’m the mess of a person who has to talk to someone like—dang I forgot her name—in order to save my career.
“I thought you two would hit it off,” Hannah says. “Lynn here worked in Boston for three years before moving to New York.”
Lynn. Her name is Lynn.
I nod along, hoping that Hannah and Lucas really had a bit more than Boston to match me up with this woman. Or were they really just hoping to find someone who’s normal to stand by my side tonight, so I could save face with the media and with Harry.
I don’t know which is more pathetic.
“Why don’t the two of you dance?” Hannah suggests before looking at Lucas, a clear plea for help in her eyes.
“Nobody else is dancing,” I say, gesturing toward the dance floor. “There’s no way I’m going to be the only one—”
My words get caught in my throat when my gaze lands on the beautiful woman walking into the room.
The braid she always wears is gone now, instead her hair is tumbling over her shoulders in almost white waves.
Her blue eyes pierces my soul from across the room, sharp enough to cut through every wall I’ve ever built.
And that dress…gold, glittering, and impossible to ignore.
Avah Johansson is stunning.
An absolute knock out.
Lucas clears his throat from behind me.
“We’ll dance too,” he offers, but I can’t bring myself to tear my gaze away from the woman who’s currently in a heated discussion with her brother. For some reason she’s tugging on her dress, while nervously scanning the room.
“Avah’s here,” I utter, before realizing what I just said. “I mean, EJ’s here.” I gesture toward the two of them and Hannah waves them over.
Avah’s eyes meet mine before her gaze narrows.
Something akin to excitement stirs within me.
And for the first time since I’ve arrived, I’m not completely dreading the night.