Chapter 17
Sloane
“Sloane Winters. You are quite the reporter.”
The two men sitting at the table stood, both extending their hands. “No matter what you may have heard, my bite is much worse than my bark.”
Both men laughed. “Jesse,” the blond said as I shook his hand.
“Kyle and thanks for filling in. We were very excited by the chance to work with you.”
“I admit,” I told them, “I was surprised.”
“Why?” Jesse pointed to one of the chairs, positioned so I’d be forced to sit between the two hosts with our guest at the opposite end of the table.
“Because from what I understand, you’re not very fond of women in sports reporting. And trust me, boys. I don’t enjoy working with anyone who tries to belittle me or my accomplishments, which are significant.”
The two looked at each other. “Ouch,” Kyle said. “Well, you caught us. That’s the way we were when we started out, but not any longer. With reporters like yourself and a few others, we figured out you can run circles around us when you want.”
“And your accomplishments are amazing,” Jesse added.
“Well, I do pay attention and do my research. So how do you want this interview to go?” I asked as I studied the area. There were about fifty seats for people if they wanted to watch. That was fine as long as they weren’t plants who could interject. That I wouldn’t allow.
“You’ve watched the show before. Right?” Jesse asked as he sat down at the end of the table.
“A few of them.” I didn’t give them wiggle room.
Kyle shrugged. “More conversational than anything, although there isn’t a person out there who doesn’t want to know what he thinks about being a rookie and getting this far in his first year.”
“And how,” Jesse added.
He made it sound like it had never happened before. “I can answer that. By hard work.”
“I heard you had an in with Mr. Kendrick. I assume you convinced him we aren’t bad guys?” When the two of them laughed, I stared Kyle in the eyes. It felt as if I was the part of a joke in which I didn’t know the punchline.
“We’ve developed a good working relationship given the interviews I was lucky enough to obtain. As far as convincing him of anything, you’ll need to do that for yourselves. But he’s very astute and doesn’t like games being played.” It was a warning that I hoped they heeded.
“Great. Don’t worry. The fans are just eager to hear more about Beck and his brother if he’s so inclined.”
Jesse seemed genuine in his statement, so I nodded.
Even if there was a strange feeling that had managed to pool in my stomach. “Are there any formats for the questions?” I’d heard what had been said to me, but without a basic outline of questions, we could be stepping all over each other or make the subject very uncomfortable.
Applause and an open door prevented me from getting my question answered. As Beck came into the room, he had an entourage following him, several fans clamoring for an autograph.
“Would you look at that?” Kyle said, only he wasn’t speaking to me.
“A real hero to the ladies,” Jesse said in return to his buddy.
I kept my eyes on Beck, snickering when one of the women begged him to sign her chest.
“Wow. That must make you jealous.”
Now I turned and glared at Kyle. “Why would you say that?”
“My girlfriend would kick my ass.”
“Well, hopefully she does every time you fall out of line, which I suspect is all the time.” I returned my attention to Beck while issuing the last words.
Now I was getting a very bad feeling about the entire situation. However, the cameramen were already in position and backing out now would only make it appear as if I couldn’t handle the task. Fuck the assholes. If they wanted to play games, they’d asked the wrong person to sit in with them.
It was possible I was making too much of their reactions that were shaping mine, but again, I didn’t like not having a grasp on exactly what I was to expect.
“Mr. Kendrick. Welcome to the show.” Kyle started the introductions, lifting his eyebrows when I also stuck out my hand, forced to lean way over the table to do so.
As if planned.
If the bastard wanted to taunt me about a romance, he could think twice.
“Your save at the end was amazing. Now I can see why people call you the Devil,” I told Beck as we locked eyes. I could tell instantly he realized we should play the situation cool.
“It seemed as if you had something to do with it, Sloane,” Jesse piped in.
Beck and I turned our heads. “Pardon?” I threw out.
He laughed. “I think you managed to soothe the beast after the horrific fight. What an asshole that guy was.”
Beck chuckled. “A typical tactic and nothing to worry about. However, boys will be boys with extreme testosterone. Right?”
All three of them laughed while I pointed to the chair at the end of the table.
The way we were seated allowed for an almost semi-circle effect for the cameras and people watching.
Still, with Jesse on one side and by the way he was leaning forward, I had a difficult time making eye contact with Beck.
I knew the style of seating well. A way to try to make the interview friendly, as if a bunch of people were enjoying a beer at a Sunday barbeque.
Why did I have a terrible fear this was more about a ‘gotcha’ moment?
“Nothing to be worried about, Beck. We’re just going to ask you a few questions including about how you got started playing hockey. And you know we can’t pass up mentioning your brother Ford.” Jesse laughed like they were old friends.
“Everyone wants to talk about Ford,” Beck chimed in, planting a perfect smile on his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d been trained for show business. “Especially the ladies.”
“But he’s already taken, right?” Kyle asked.
“He is. Happily.”
While they were chatting, members of a fake audience were allowed in. I assumed fake since it was apparent there were two sides of fans. One side who obviously adored the ground Beck walked on. And side two… the others.
I leaned over to Jesse, getting in his face. “What the hell is this?”
“What are you talking about?”
With a single nod toward the audience, I did my best to keep my cool.
“I don’t know. We don’t pick who is allowed in. They have a random pool the producers choose from. Don’t worry about it. Just ambient noise.”
Just ambient noise, my ass. I knew better.
The interview began with no real fanfare, the questions relatively benign. Maybe ten minutes into it, I was starting to relax, but only to a point. Long ago, I’d learned to follow my instincts and right now, the knots in my stomach were the size of bowling balls.
“Now, let’s get a little bit more personal. Do you have a girlfriend?” When Kyle asked the question, of course he hyped up the audience. At least so far, they were playing nice.
I managed to keep a straight face, even leaning toward him. “I’m curious as well.” Why not sever whatever insinuation Kyle might be making?
Beck was damn good at dealing with the press, with no sign of nervousness as he leaned forward so our faces were only inches away. “Not at this time, but I should ask, are you interested?”
Instead of pulling away, I dared created a moment that would be immortalized on camera for some time. Our lips were mere centimeters apart. With both hands, I cupped his face, bringing our lips together. The kiss was much more chaste than our usual.
However, there was a collective gasp in the audience, which was what I was going for. I didn’t kiss Beck for long, pulling away and staring at the ceiling for a full ten seconds.
“Ladies, I deem him worthy, but unfortunately, Devil man, you’re not my type.”
The audience cheered, the sound bite likely excellent for the ratings.
“Now that we have that covered, let’s talk about the remainder of the playoffs.
” Jesse laughed and threw out a volley of questions, not too technical since they weren’t hockey aficionados.
However, they were excellent questions for their audience and would keep listeners engaged when the interview was turned into a podcast.
“Here are a few questions you can ask Beck.” Hearing Jesse’s whispered voice wouldn’t ordinarily be troubling. After all, we were in an interview, so questions were the key.
What immediately had my hackles raised was the comment itself. We’d gone through if there were any preplanned questions already.
I barely glanced at the words typed and emboldened on a sheet of crisp white paper, but all I needed were the few seconds to understand why I was here.
The bastards were using me to destroy Beck’s career with a horrible accusation.
The cameras had likely noticed the hard snap of my head in the reporter’s direction even if it was apparent Beck had been sucked into the instant slice of fame.
“You fucking son of a bitch,” I hissed.
Jesse leaned even closer, grinning as if I was part of the conspiracy. “Ask the questions, Sloane. You’re an excellent reporter. Wasn’t this your angle all along? We’ve read your earlier work. You know what the bastards are capable of.”
My earlier work.
Words that had been paraphrased and used against me years before, the entire situation something I’d thought buried.
With a slight lift of my gaze toward Kyle, I could easily tell he was in on the ruse by the smirk he was wearing.
I glanced down at the questions again, as close to being horrified as a woman in this profession could be.
“You’re fucking out of your mind. Not a chance in hell.”
“Is this because you’re involved with Beck romantically? Or because you don’t want to expose his past? Pretty damning but his fans need to know the truth, especially after almost killing a man years before. Now tonight. Pictures tell no lies.”
He shoved his phone under my nose, the picture taken obviously doctored.
I’d been standing feet away from the fight, including when Bronco had been hit and gone down, stomped on by the force of the crowd of players.
Not by Beck. But someone had taken the time to make it look as if Beck had partially shifted.
My guess was Bronco’s injuries were going to be hyped as life threatening. My God.
“You fucking bastard.”
“I think our guest host anchor has a few questions,” Kyle said in a booming voice.
“No, Beck—”
“We don’t normally handle our interviews this way, but let’s see what Sloane has to say.” Jesse’s interruption of the warning I’d tried to issue had been handled masterfully, Jesse even acting shocked at questions I’d supposedly written down.
Beck had fallen into trusting the assholes, neither of us able to catch the eye of the other and I bet that was on purpose.
“Sloane is right. You were pretty rough on Bronco out there. He has a concussion.” Jesse’s tone was as if he was truly concerned.
Which he wasn’t.
Before I could jump in, Kyle did. “Yeah, he’s pretty banged up. Didn’t I hear something about you doing that to a player a few years ago in Cincinnati?”
Beck was flustered. I could hear a glitch in his voice. “That was entirely different. I walked away from Bronco. He simply got caught in a fight.”
“Hold on,” I threw out.
My objection was overridden immediately.
“Not according to the picture Sloane sent us. Take a look for yourself.” Kyle slid the same doctored picture I’d been shown across the table. “You’re looking rough there, buddy. As if your wolf was ready to break through bones and muscle.”
“After Sloane mentioned what happened in Cincinnati, I couldn’t believe it and searched for the incident. It appears someone bought off the player’s silence so you wouldn’t be charged. Is that even true?”
“If it is, then maybe there is reason to be concerned about shifters playing in such a violent sport. Right, Sloane?”
“Stop the interview,” I demanded, jerking to a standing position. “I will not tolerate inaccurate information and trying to railroad this interview.”
“Is that what’s really happening here?” Beck asked, also standing. “Or is this all about ratings?”
The two men remained seated and were suddenly very quiet.
“Those aren’t my questions, Beck. Turn the cameras off.”
They already were off. The bastards had captured exactly what they wanted, to cast a doubt on not only Beck but in shifters in general. A perfect plan that I’d been lured into.
My anger was off the charts.
“Beck. We need to talk,” I said as I tried to get around Jesse. That’s when I realized even the table had been placed in such a way that when Jesse pushed his chair back, I’d need to climb over him to get out. Same thing with Kyle.
“I think we’re done talking.” Beck’s voice was low, the tone nothing like the man I’d met in the locker room, the guy who’d been determined to ruin my night by just being playful. By being himself.
Certainly not the man who’d spent a couple of precious hours in Miami talking about life in general, hopes and dreams that we both had.
And definitely not the guy who’d held me just after we’d had incredible sex. No, this was a man who’d just shut a door on more than our electric passion.
He’d also done so on our friendship and the trust he’d placed in me.
With all emotions vanishing from his eyes, he spun on his heel and walked from the room.
“Get out of my fucking way,” I snarled at Jesse.
“What’s wrong, Sloane? We didn’t expose anything that you shouldn’t have already discovered. The world and all his fans deserve to know he’s nothing but a fucking animal.”
I’d prided myself in being able to control my temper through thick and thin. From drunks pawing at me in dark bars to men with white hair and perfect white teeth telling me I’d be a pretty adornment but should stick to beauty pageants.
Not any longer.
Without thinking about consequences, I hauled off and threw a punch, cracking Jesse’s nose in the process. After blood spewed, I grinned and slipped under the table, crawling out on the other side.
Since I had my standard tennis shoes on, I took off running, slamming my hands on the doors and racing into the corridor.
Beck was nowhere to be seen.
No, this couldn’t be happening, but I had to face reality.
I’d lost my edge in starting to fall for Beck and in doing so, I’d helped jeopardize his career.
As I searched the hallways, I could tell word had gotten out already. Gossip was like wildfires, spreading with just a little fertilizer.
By the time I reached the locker room, the coach had already been told I’d betrayed his player.
He stood with security by his side, throwing his hand out as soon as he noticed me walking closer.
“You’re not welcome here, Ms. Winters.”
“Coach Griffen. I need to talk to Beck. Whatever you heard isn’t what happened.”
I noticed several of his team members glaring at me from only feet away.
He sighed, rubbing his clenched jaw as he did. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. Beck doesn’t ever want to see you again. Neither does any member of my team. Is that clear enough?”
The rush of rage had no ability to match the sadness or the brutal thumping of my heart. “Yes, sir. That’s very clear.”