11. Victoria
VICTORIA
“This is so wrong,” Cambrie whispered as she clicked. “I’m breaking every rule I was ever taught.”
“Sometimes it feels like I’m going to get in trouble. A professor is going to walk in and berate me.” I sighed as I finished yet another.
“They would be so disappointed if they could see us now,” she agreed from behind her laptop.
We took the afternoon off since the men practiced this morning and holed up in my hotel room editing and chopping apart interviews into short videos for the social media team to post.
As much as it hurt my journalist heart to do this, each interview made five or six videos, so we were keeping the content stream well-fed.
This wasn’t the type of work either of us set out to do, but we had no choice but to adapt to the changing demands of our audience.
“So, are you going to tell me or keep me waiting all night?”
I paused the video I was watching. “Tell you about what?”
She pointed at me. “Don’t play coy.”
“Fine,” I caved. I’d expected her to demand answers the second we met up this morning, but she remained professional and on her best behavior. It was only fair to spill. “He not only accepted my apology and explanation, but I think he might be willing to not hate me.”
“Well, obviously. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But there’s a difference between forgiving and forgetting. He would be well within his rights to keep me at arm’s length, even refuse to let me interview him again.” I hesitated. “It was a very uncomfortable reminder that my words have the power to hurt people. That my job has consequences.”
She nodded. “I get that.”
It felt like there was something more she wanted to say, so I stayed quiet.
“I’ve taken pictures and videos that haunt me. I’ve recorded things and had to decide what mattered most: the truth, the story, or the subjects. I’ve lost many nights of sleep debating what the right thing to do is, and how my actions could affect people.”
“Even though you're just the one recording it, not participating?” I knew better than to ask for details. I might be in sports now, but in my college days, I stumbled into information I didn’t want to know and didn’t want to write about, but needed to be shared.
Like a cheating scandal being covered up by the administration, a few student and professor affairs, and what was really happening with the food waste that was promised to go to shelters.
She nodded. “Having morals really sucks.”
“In our industry especially,” I agreed and lowered my eyes back to my screen.
“Very true.” She ran her hand over her keyboard but didn’t type. “So you two just talked?”
“Yes. I told him it was all off the record, and it wasn’t very long since he had to go, but I don’t know,” I paused. “I wanted him to see me as a person.”
Her lips wavered as she failed to hold back a smile. “As opposed to?”
“A reporter, a soulless monster, someone only here to do a job?”
“Ah, yes.” She nodded a few times. "We don't deal with that as much from this side of the camera. We generally just go entirely unnoticed.”
“I didn’t really want to be on this side either. I wanted to write, get the details and truth out to the world, not talk to sweaty men about the same repetitive topics.”
“What kind of truth? Did you want to be a war correspondent? An investigator?"
“No, it was always sports.”
She barked out a laugh. “So you just romanticized journalism into something it never was.”
“Yeah, it took me a few years to realize that, though,” I admitted. “I thought every athlete had a story that deserved to be told.”
She continued laughing, harder now. “Oh, Victoria, that’s so wholesome and wrong!”
I glared at her. “I know now.”
“Most athletes shouldn’t open their mouths, let alone have the things they say printed.”
“Not all of them,” I snapped. “Most hockey players––”
“Yeah, hockey is the exception. They’re all working too hard to get into too much trouble.”
“Not that they’re all angels.”
“Oh, I know, but I’ve covered football, remember?” She gave me a pointed look. “Those guys have too much money and too much time.”
“I come from the athlete’s side, though. I know the sacrifices needed to get to their level, not only from them but their families and communities. I wanted to be able to share those stories.”
“And hopefully, one day you will.” She leaned back. “It’s not all bad. We do get to spotlight some pretty incredible people.”
“True,” I smiled.
“Some incredibly hot people.”
I laughed. “Oh yeah, have your eye on anyone specific?”
“No,” she wagged her brows. “But I think you do.”
“Who?” I gasped.
“Henson,” she cocked her head. "Obviously."
I let out a breath that was supposed to be a laugh. “What?”
“The lengths you went to far exceed a normal apology.” She stared me down. “An explanation and heartfelt ‘I’m sorry’ was all that was needed.”
“No, he got his entire team to stop giving interviews. I needed to do a little more than just say sorry.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I really don’t think so.”
“The article was pretty mean. I didn’t write it, but he believed I did.”
“So you did a deep dive into every interview the man’s ever given, even asking for assistance.” She didn’t need to remind me I dragged her into this. “You went far above and beyond what was necessary.”
“He was holding a grudge for years,” I pointed out.
“And it wasn’t even your fault. You could have shown him the proof and moved on.”
I refused to admit she was right.
“But even agreeing that collecting a list of his favorite things was a nice addition, that wasn’t all.”
I closed my eyes.
“You hung around. You went in for seconds."
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t like how that sounds.”
“You spoke to him off the record,” she winked. “As a journalist, that’s a pretty big deal.”
Instant regret for ever telling her anything washed over me.
“I’m just saying that you went through a lot of trouble, and I don’t think you would have if you didn’t also think he was hot.”
“I would have done that for anyone I felt I had wronged.”
“All of it?” she pressed.
Okay, I probably wouldn’t have waited and talked to them after practice, but I wasn’t telling her that.
“Ha!” she pointed at me. “You admit it.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t have to! I saw the realization and acceptance.” She grinned. “You should work on your poker face.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You think he’s hot, and we know he’s single.” She ran her finger along the top of her laptop. “What a coincidence that you are also hot and single.”
“That’s very nice of you to say, but I’m––”
“If you even think of anything self-deprecating, I will slap you with a pillow.” Her eyes flicked to the bed, and I had no doubt she was serious. “You are gorgeous, smart, and he wouldn’t have stayed and talked if he wasn’t at least a little bit interested in you too.”
Was she right? He didn’t have to…he could have just walked away….he did stay.
“See?” she was beaming now. “There’s a fine line between love and hate.”
“We don’t hate each other."
“Not anymore.” She slammed her laptop shut. “I’ve been staring at a screen for too long. We can finish this tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll keep going for a bit.” We had accomplished quite a lot, but I didn’t have anything else to do.
“I’m going out with an old colleague tonight. Do you want to come?” There was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“A hot, old colleague?”
She smiled. “Maybe.”
There was no way I would become a third wheel when she looked so excited. “Have fun and stay out of trouble.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, go have fun.”
“You too,” she stood. “Don't stay in all night. Go see the city.”
I nodded, but had no intention of following through. “Bye, Cambrie.”
The door shut, and I sat for a moment, looking down at my screen. It was nearly six, and we only had a snack instead of a lunch, so maybe heading out for dinner wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
It wasn’t often I got to DC, and it did seem like a waste to spend the whole tournament in the hotel or arena.
But going out sounded exhausting. I could just order room service.
No, Victoria. Get up and get going.
I rolled off the bed and changed into a pair of jean cutoffs and a white tank, ready to head into the brutal humidity, and slid my bag over my shoulder.
Without a destination in mind, I walked out of the lobby and turned right. It was the general direction of the National Mall, and I figured I could take in the sights until I passed food that sounded good.
I’d only made it a few blocks when a large group stepped out of a store in front of me. I moved toward the street to stay out of their way, but someone called my name and I faltered.
“I thought that was you.”
It took me a split second before I recognized Derek Aston. “Wow, it’s been a minute.”
He came over and gave me a side hug, pulling me toward the group. I didn't have to look to know who was joining.
“This is Amelia, my wife.”
I smiled at the brunette and shook her outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’ve heard good things about you.”
My eyes flicked to the other men, catching on Henson before returning to hers.
“She wrote a really nice piece about me and Olli, and the accident.” Derek squeezed my shoulders before stepping away. “Her words really helped me accept my new role.”
“Aw, I didn’t know that,” Amelia’s smile grew wider. “That was nice of you.”
I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. “He was a great goaltender, Olli too. I was always a big fan of them both, and couldn’t imagine what it was like to have to step into your mentor's shoes so unexpectedly.”
“So you can write nice things?” Erik Schultz teased. Luckily, he was grinning, and Josh immediately elbowed him. “Sorry. I had to get one last jab in.”
“No, you really didn’t.” Josh shook his head. “It’s all in the past.”
Amelia looked between him and me. “Oh, you’re that reporter.”
I cringed, and Hartman took over. “It was a mistake and miscommunication. We’re all moving on.”
Erik crossed his arms and winked when I glanced over. “He’s right, but you could throw up a few flattering posts of us to make it up to Josh.”
I cracked a smile. “Already done.”
“Perfect,” he beamed.
“Where were you headed?” Amelia asked.
“Nowhere in particular. I just wanted to get out of the hotel and figured I’d stumble into something for dinner on my way to see some of the monuments.”
“We’re heading to get dinner now, if you’d like to join us,” Hartman offered.
I couldn't help it. I glanced at Josh, who offered a small smile. I wanted him to say something, like yeah, please come or no, stay away, you awful woman.
But he was leaving it up to me.
“Are you sure I won’t mess up your reservation?”
“Not at all. We invited Coach Abrams, but he had meetings, so there’s an extra seat,” she explained.
With no other excuse, I agreed. I was hoping an idea for dinner would appear to me, and it did. Just not how I expected.
“Okay, thanks.”
“And everything’s off the record,” Derek pointed at me. “No insider intel.”
“Oh, stop!” Amelia swatted at him. “As if any of you have anything juicy to tell.”
“We’re all old and boring,” Erik agreed. “We can tell you about our wives and kids.”
“Not all of us are married,” Hartman cut a look at Josh. “Some of us are exceptionally single.”
He glared at his captain. “Unnecessarily rude.”
“How is someone exceptionally single?” I asked Hartman, hurrying to fall into step with him. “Off the record, of course.”
He grinned, and we ignored the groan behind us.
“Well, first you have to not have had a relationship, let alone go on a date, for over a year.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“But he’s going on three years.”
I grimaced. “Oh no. That’s a long time.”
Another groan we pretended not to hear.
“Indeed,” he agreed. “Now, there are a few theories as to why. First, he’s doing what I always told myself I’d do, and that’s wait to date until retirement.” He shot me a smile. “But we all know that didn’t last. Second, he’s afraid of women.”
“That’s my guess!” Erik called.
Hartman chuckled and continued. “But my favorite is that he’s simply waiting for Mrs. Right and won’t settle for anything less.”
“Interesting.” I had to fight so hard not to turn around and see Josh’s reaction. “Now back to the exceptionally single thing.”
“Right, I got distracted. First, single forever. Second, when there are team events, they don’t bother telling him he can bring a plus one. They don’t save a seat, nothing. They know he’s going to be attending alone.”
“That is pretty rough,” Amelia chuckled. “The Pride are uber romantics and decent matchmakers. If they’ve given up, you might as well too, Josh.”
“Why is this the conversation?” he grumbled.
“But that can all be regular single stuff.” Hartman looked at me, “The thing that really makes him exceptional is that I’ve never once heard him even mention a woman. Never commented on someone he thought was attractive. Never wished he could go out with someone. Nothing.”
I nodded slowly as we turned a corner, and Derek pointed out the restaurant ahead. He held open the door as Amelia, Erik, and Josh entered. Hartman paused next to me and whispered.
“Until this week.” He walked on like he hadn’t said anything, and Derek waved me to hurry.
It took me until we were seated to understand what he was saying. This was the first time he’d ever mentioned a woman to them? Who was she?
I’d never admit it aloud, but I sort of hoped it was me. Not that it could be. I was enemy number one until yesterday. There had to be someone else he had a crush on. Someone he liked enough to mention it to his teammates. The first time in three years? She must be someone special.
I picked up my menu and started reading it over when I felt eyes on me. I looked up to find Josh watching me, but the second our gazes met, he lifted his menu to block his face.
Lucky girl.