All my best,
John
Damn. That could help a guy get through the day.
“Want to head over to the rink soon?” Silas emerged from his own room and crossed to the kitchen with his coffee mug. He patted his stomach. “If we go now, there will be food.”
Leo stood up, happy to have his new roommate break up his grim train of thought. “Sure thing. You can help me find the ice level door.” As the new guy, he didn’t even know where to flash his shiny new Bruisers ID to get in.
“Cool. I’ll change.”
Leo went into his own room to put on a suit. Now that was an unfamiliar ritual. In the minors, you could still roll up to the rink in your sweats. The idea of glamming up the sport of hockey was pretty amusing, really. They could sell $200 bottles of champagne in the corporate boxes, and they could charter jets for the road trips. But down on the ice, the game itself was just the same. Leo would bet any amount of money that the refs still kept the pucks on ice in an Igloo cooler in the penalty box.
Back in the living room and waiting for Silas, Leo wandered over to the window to look down at the street below. The late afternoon light cast a purplish hue on all the brick buildings. Water Street was narrow, and one of the last streets in New York City to be paved with old bricks. It was a hell of a lot more atmospheric than the town he’d called home three days ago.
A bright yellow taxi slid to a stop at the curb, its door opening. As Leo watched, Georgia Worthington got out. Even from this peculiar angle, revealing the top of her head, he knew immediately it was her. Something inside his chest lifted at the sight of her. She clutched a shopping bag in one hand and paid her fare with the other.
Leo looked down, subconsciously giving himself a once-over. Maybe his new apartment’s buzzer would ring in a moment. She might be stopping by to finish the conversation that had been aborted yesterday at the practice rink. She must realize how badly they needed to talk.
His forehead against the glass, Leo watched the taxi slide away. Georgia looked once to the left and then to the right, taking a moment to check her surroundings. It was good that she did that—a woman alone on the city streets as dusk fell. He hoped she wasn’t fearful living here. But it was still a good idea to be aware.
Then Georgia turned her back to him, shaking out a set of keys. She climbed two steps onto the stoop of the smallest facade on the block—a walk-up sandwiched between two larger buildings. Fitting her key into the lock, she let herself in, disappearing inside a moment later.
“Okay!” Silas called from behind him. “Are you ready to head over?”
“Guess so,” Leo mumbled, disappointed. He realized how ridiculous it had been to imagine Georgia was on her way to see him. She couldn’t even have known where he was staying. And she sure as hell hadn’t asked.
His gut told him they had unfinished business. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.
He pulled on his overcoat and followed Silas out the door. The two of them took a short ride down the building’s shiny elevator from the fourth floor to the lobby. Like the Bruisers’ headquarters, this apartment building was a converted factory, so all the ceilings were fourteen feet high except for the soaring lobby, which was doubly tall, with leather club chairs and oriental rugs. The place was gorgeous. A uniformed doorman greeted Silas and offered to fetch him a cab.
“That’d be great, Miguel.” He and Leo followed him outside while he flagged one down at the corner.
Leo looked up at the little apartment building where Georgia had disappeared. The third floor had an illuminated window where he was pretty sure there’d only been darkness before. Is that where she lived? It made sense that someone who worked for the team would choose this neighborhood.
A taxi pulled up, and he folded himself into the back seat, following Silas. “You know any of your neighbors?” he asked the goalie.
“Nah,” the goalie said as the cab accelerated. “It’s New York. The only way to survive the crowds is to pretend the other eight million people don’t exist.”
Leo looked out at the darkening streets and wondered whether he could put Georgia out of his mind, at least for tonight. Worrying about her wouldn’t do either of them any good if it got him kicked off the team.
“Oh, man.” Silas chuckled. “This can’t be good for you. Fucking gossip rags.”
“What?” He turned to see Silas grinning at his phone. He took it from the goalie’s hand and squinted at the screen, which showed a page from the Post. The headline was
NEW ROOKIE AND CAPTAIN FIGHT OVER A GIRL. BUT CAN THEY FIGHT OFF TAMPA?
There were two photos. The first was a shot of himself sitting beside O’Doul on the dais at the press conference, both of them wearing sour expressions. The second picture was one that Leo hadn’t seen in years—he and Georgia seated together on their high school bleachers, their arms around each other, smiling gleefully. He couldn’t remember what they’d been laughing about that day. It had been more than six years since they’d been that young and carefree.
Jesus. It hurt to look at it. He passed the phone back to Silas without comment.
“So that’s why Coach doesn’t like you?” Silas asked. “You were involved with his daughter? And that’s why you jumped down O’Doul’s throat.”
Leo sighed. “Yeah. It was a long time ago, though. If I’d kept my trap shut the other day, this picture wouldn’t have surfaced.”
“Where’d they get it?”
“Our high school yearbook, if you can believe it.”
“Dude,” Silas said, the word full of sympathy. “That shit should stay buried. I do not want to see my eighteen-year-old mug in the news.”
“Live and learn,” Leo grunted.
“Hope Coach doesn’t see it before he makes the lineup for tonight. ’Cause now you’re the guy who got his little girl on all the gossip blogs.”
Fuck. “I’m ready to play. Hope he doesn’t scratch me.”
“That’s the tune I’m singing every night, dude. And yet I’ve played four games all season.”
“I hear you.” Backup goalie was a tough gig, though. It wasn’t the same thing, and they both knew it.
“Did you cheat on this girl, or something?”
“Never,” Leo said quickly. “We were together a long time, until she cut me loose on graduation day.”
“Bummer.” Silas laughed.
Leo said nothing. That year had been so hard on the both of them, but it wasn’t something he should talk about. He hoped Georgia had healed as best she could, but it was her private business.