5. Victoria
VICTORIA
“That was weird,” Miles whispered as the Utah players strode away.
“Really?” I tried to sound nonplussed, but doubted I’d pulled it off. “They answered all the questions.”
“Hartman and Schultz did. It was like Henson flipped a switch or something. He’s usually pretty quiet, but he’s never been rude.”
“How do you know?” I asked, surprised.
“I did my research before I got here,” he eyed me.
“Well, I didn’t notice.” A flat-out lie. It took all my self-control not to demand an explanation for his blatant rudeness. This wasn’t our first-time meeting. I’d interviewed him during the Olympics—hadn’t I?
I stopped and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my notes from that time period, before stopping and searching for his name.
Nothing.
How had I forgotten him? Or had he avoided me?
My focus had been on the women's team, but I could have sworn I interviewed all the men. Especially their starting goalie.
But now that I was thinking about it, I hadn’t even seen him there. Hartman had been around, but Henson seemed to have managed to avoid me.
Why?
I wished my friend Darcy was here, but she didn’t get this assignment. She was put on World Cup duty, so I couldn’t turn to her and lament about how poorly this was going.
I was on my own and needed to turn things around.
“Let's work on a game plan for tomorrow through the week.” I hoped he wouldn’t press and go along with my topic change.
He put his camera away as I opened my folder and slid out a paper with the teams’ schedules. “Practices start tomorrow, but we should be able to squeeze in a few short clips in passing.”
“Do you have questions ready for those, or are we trying to get clickbait videos?”
I cringed, wishing we could forget about that entirely. “I have questions prepared for the players.”
“Sounds good.”
He twisted, adjusting items in his camera bag, while I watched the entrance for other players.
“Do you want to go grab dinner?”
It was the norm for when working on assignments, especially longer ones, to eat meals together when we had time, and I didn’t have much work to catch up on, so holing up in my hotel room when it wasn’t even seven would make for a long night.
“Yeah, do you know of any places around here?”
“There’s a pretty good pizza spot just up the road. We can head up to our rooms and drop off our stuff, then walk over.”
“Sounds good.” We headed toward the exit; unfortunately, we weren’t staying at the same hotel as any of the teams, but we were close enough to most of the locations that we didn't need a rental car to get around.
“How’s your wife?” I couldn’t recall her name, but I remembered her from the last Christmas party, and he’d mentioned her enough times in passing I knew he was comfortable discussing her. I also couldn’t recall if they had kids or not.
He grinned. “She just graduated with her masters in social work.”
“Wow,” I nudged his elbow with mine. “That’s really impressive.”
“Yeah, she’s the hardest-working person I know, but she loves it.”
We reached the sidewalk and turned left in sync. I was about to ask more when a scream filled the air.
Miles’ arm shot out, blocking me from taking another step as the scene unfolded before us.
“What th––”
My words were cut off by a snarling Erik Schultz stomping past us.
“Wasn’t that––” Miles started.
“They’re going to pay,” Hartman roared as he barreled past us.
It wasn’t until I saw their backs that I could guess what had happened. Glitter.
From their hair to their shoes, their entire backs were coated in glitter, leaving a sparkling trail behind them.
Before I could laugh, Miles had his phone out, filming their retreat before heading in the direction they’d come.
He was chuckling when I caught up and saw through the gathered crowd at the hand-painted sign hanging from a side entrance of their hotel.
“Welcome, Stars!”
Glitter was everywhere. It covered the doors and sidewalk, gaps from where Hartman and Schultz had blocked it.
“Good thing they were leaving and not heading in,” someone remarked. “It would have sprayed them right in the face.”
The person next to them laughed, and they continued on their path as I took their spot, now able to see what they had. From the setup, it did look like it was intended to go off when players entered. How had they not noticed the setup before they opened the doors?
Distracted by their phones or a conversation, most likely.
“This is too good,” Miles smiled over at me. “It’s not even day one, and the pranks have started.”
I shook my head. Hockey players were notorious for their prank wars, some lasting for years. It wasn’t just rivals either. Teammates were often the worst offenders.
“So it begins.” I turned and noticed some of the women from the East team.
“At least we didn’t get hit first,” another laughed before they crossed the street.
Miles finished taking pictures and video, then put his phone away and nodded in the opposite direction. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
It was a short walk before Miles pointed. “This is it.”
It was so nondescript. I never would have given it a second glance with its worn-out paint on the windows and faded white and red overhang.
The boom of conversations hit as soon as Miles opened the door. The place was much more crowded than I expected from the outside. Most of the tables were full, and a server passed with a hurried smile.
“Sit where you can!”
I started toward the back where a two-top was getting cleared off, but paused when I heard our names being called.
“Victoria, over here!” I turned to my right and found about half of the women’s West team waving us over.
“We have two chairs at the end,” Hilary, one of their left wingers, pointed.
“Thanks,” Miles gave a few of them fist bumps as he passed and squeezed into a remaining spot, leaving me the last one to slide into.
“This place must really be good,” I smirked at Miles, who rolled his eyes.
“Oh, now that they’re here, you believe me?”
I nodded. “I trust you all.”
That earned a few laughs, and Hilary leaned over. “We just ordered eight pizzas, so there will be plenty for you guys, as long as you don’t have any allergies.”
“None for me,” I checked with Miles, who shook his head. “You don’t mind sharing?”
“Of course not.” Sarah leaned in from across the table. “After you saved an entire sheet of tiramisu for us on the last night in Milan? We still talk about that.”
A few of the women groaned.
“It was so good,” I agreed.
“And as long as you don’t take any embarrassing pictures of us stuffing our faces,” Taylor pointed at Miles.
He held up his hands. “No phones, no cameras.”
“And everything said is off the record,” I promised.
“Then eat, drink, and be merry,” Sarah held up her water glass as if toasting.
“Speaking of Milan, remember the night we didn’t get back to the hotel until two a.m. and Victoria was passed out in the lobby?”
“Drooling on a silk decorative pillow,” Marie agreed.
“You were supposed to be back like seven hours prior,” I scoffed. “I needed to submit my interview by, like, five that morning.”
“And the time catering forgot about the press area and we snuck her into the locker room wearing a pair of my warm-ups?” Taylor laughed.
Miles gapped. “I didn’t realize I was partnered with such a rebel.”
“Oh, don’t even get me started on this one,” Hilary cut in. “Back in college, we were constantly doing get-up sprints for stunts she pulled.”
I held up a hand. “It was not always me. Ryann was just as bad.”
“Yeah, and now I know all her weak spots and get to exploit them,” she wagged her brows.
“Playing against old teammates is the best,” Marie leaned back.
“Is it like a sibling rivalry?” Miles asked.
“Sometimes,” Marie agreed. “But that’s only when we still like and respect each other. Other times, it's finally getting to release years of pent-up frustration and annoyance without your old coach yelling at you to get along.”
A few of them smiled fondly.
“We’re not as bad as the men, though,” Taylor told Miles. “There aren’t enough of us around to really hold grudges. We need to be supportive of each other and protect each other.”
Marie nodded. “Yeah, just because we’re not on the same team this week doesn’t mean we won’t get traded next season.”
“With only twelve teams, we’re going to run into each other too much,” Hilary added.
“Plus, when the men get into fights, it’s exciting and fun. When we do it, we get called overdramatic and emotional,” Sarah huffed.
“Nothing like a double standard to make work more fun.” Miles leaned back as a server placed a pizza on the table.
“As if we don’t have enough pressure to fail.”
Two more servers arrived, and soon the table was covered in pizzas with an array of toppings. I selected a pesto chicken slice and started eating when Miles caught my attention and tilted his head to one side where the women were excitedly discussing something.
I glanced over and soon caught on to the conversation. A development I hadn’t heard about.
“I can’t believe it, to be honest. It seems too good to be true.” Taylor said to Sarah before taking another bite.
“Sports National, you said?” I clarified.
“Yeah,” Hilary beamed. “It’s not one of the big channels, but at least it’s a widely available option. People won’t have to search too hard or only watch online.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever had this coverage, outside of the Olympics,” Marie added.
“I hadn’t heard,” I admitted, sharing a look with Miles, who shook his head.
This seemed like a major announcement. Something Chris would have or should have, known. A tidbit he should have passed on to her.
If the channel were dedicated to the women’s teams, this would draw a huge amount of attention for them. Not just from the fans, but from the press.
I straightened in my seat. This was the exact sort of moment I’d been waiting for. The chance to highlight the women who deserved this focus more than anyone else. A chance to be on the front line.
Who better than me to cover this?
I was literally dining with them.
We were friends.
I couldn’t wait to call Chris and convince him to give me the chance to cover them exclusively. Anyone could do the men’s teams. It would take someone special to give the women the dedication and respect they’d earned.