Between a Jock and a Hard Place: A Romance Novella (8 page)

“Do you have any other pictures of her?”

“No. She hates to have her picture
taken.” He flipped the sandwiches.

“Too bad. I saw one there that must be
your Mom and Dad. They look like nice people.”

“They are. The best.” He gestured toward
a coffee table in the living room. “Let’s sit over there and eat. It’s much
more comfortable.”

She sat in the lotus position on the
comfortable chesterfield and took a bite of her sandwich. “This is good,” she
said, and took another bite. “I guess you don’t do much cooking.”

“Not during the season.” He finished his
sandwich and wiped his fingers absently on a napkin. “We’re leaving tonight.”

“You are?”

He seemed surprised. “I forget that you
don’t follow us the way most people do. Conference finals begin tomorrow in San
Jose.”

“You fly tonight and play tomorrow? I’m
no expert, but it sounds like a tight schedule.”

“Not really. Coach thought it was more
important to let us have a day off.” He gave her a wry smile. “Most of the day,
anyway. And the flight isn’t long.”

“What time do you leave?” She was
missing him already.

He checked his watch. “In four hours.
I’m already packed.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’ll miss
you.”

He gave her a look that curled her toes.
“Just keep on missing me. We come back late on Friday night after the second
game.”

“That won’t be hard.” She swallowed.
“The missing you part.”

“I’m not sure what our schedule’s going
to look like when we get back. Depends on how well we do against San Jose, I
suppose.”

“You have my number.”

“I’ll call you.” His gaze held hers.
“You can count on it.”

“Where have you been?” Zoey sounded
almost frantic. “I’ll been trying to reach you for days.”

“I’ve told you a million times not to
exaggerate.”

Zoey laughed, but then she always
laughed at the tired old joke. “Seriously, kiddo, where have you been?”

Claire didn’t know where to start.
Especially since she had an idea what her friend’s reaction was going to be.
Might as well get it over.

“Remember John, the fellow I told you I
met?”

“Mister Bouquet of Flowers?”

“Yeah. Well it turns out that most
people know him by Jack. It’s sort of another name for John.”

“I know that! Get on with it.”

“Well, it’s Jack Logan.”

“Shut Up!!!”

“No, really. He plays for the Canucks.”

“I know that too, you idiot. Everybody
knows that.” There was a moment’s silence. “Is this some sort of a joke?”

“No, Zoey. We saw each other on Monday
and again yesterday. He even met Cam at the hospital.”

“What was he doing at the hospital? He’s
not sick, is he? No, never mind, he wouldn’t go to the hospital if he was sick.
The Canucks have their own doctors. I’m babbling, aren’t I? God, Claire. I just
can’t believe it.”

Claire laughed. “Believe it. I guess
I’ll have to start paying attention to the games, huh?”

“Only you could say something like that.
What did he say about tonight’s game? Are the Canucks going to win?”

“We didn’t really talk about the series
that much. I just know they’re playing in San Jose.”

“We’re going to have to get you up to
speed on all of this.” She stopped abruptly. “Wait a minute. Back to what you
said about seeing him at the hospital. What was he doing there? Is it something
I can tell Randy about?”

Claire paused. “I’d rather you didn’t.
It’s something he’s been doing for a while now...visiting the childrens’ ward
without a lot of fanfare. The people who work in the hospital know about it and
they haven’t alerted the media, as the saying goes.”

“I wish you hadn’t told me.”

“Don’t ruin it for him, Zoey.”

“It would be great for his image
though.”

Claire could almost hear her friend
thinking.

“Speaking of image. I don’t know how to
put this kiddo, but he has a bit of a reputation for being a ladies’ man.”

“Cam told me about that.” She went on
confidently. “But until I see signs to the contrary, I’m going to assume he’s
on the up and up.”

“I guess that’s fair. When do you see
him again?”

“Not sure, but it can’t be soon enough.”

“That bad, huh?”

“That good.” A wave of longing swept
through her. “I’ve never known anyone like him, Zoey.”

“Stop! You’re making me all teary-eyed.
Gotta run. Talk to you later.”

* * *

The Canucks lost both games in San Jose.
It was a tired and dejected group of athletes that boarded the aircraft late
Friday night for the flight home.

Jack took his usual seat across from
Lars Nielsen and closed his eyes but he couldn’t sleep. Not even the thought of
Claire could lift him out of the fog of misery that threatened to engulf him.
It was the same after every loss, but to get this far in the playoffs and lose
the first two games wasn’t a good sign.

Lars leaned across the aisle. “Hey,
Jack. That blogger is at it again. You should read this one, man.”

“No thanks.” But the forward’s words
stayed with him and he eventually dug out his laptop and called up the blog.

He read it twice, anger oozing from
every pore of his body. He may be in the middle of one of the most important
playoffs of his life, but he had to respond to this idiot. He would find the
time somehow, of that he was sure.

* * *

Claire grabbed the phone, noting that
caller ID was blocked. Please let it be Jack. “Hello?”

“Hi.” He let out a sigh. “How are you,
Claire?”

He didn’t sound like himself. “I’m fine.
Are you all right? You sound different.”

“Just tired. And a bit disappointed.” He
paused. “I’m not going to be able to see you for the next few days. We really
have to focus.”

“I wish I could say I understand what
it’s like to lose a game, but I don’t.”

“Nobody does. Especially when every play
gets picked apart by the talking heads. Sometimes when we lose a key game I
just turn off the television and leave it off.”

“You’re not going to lose.”

“I hope you’re right.” His voice
dropped. “Just tell me you’ll be there when it’s all over. No matter what
happens.”

“I knew you before I knew you were a
hockey player, remember?” She paused. “I’ll be here,” she said.

“Good.” There was a moment’s silence.
“Goodbye, Claire.”

* * *

Claire watched the game on Sunday night
with Cam. Their father had somehow scored tickets to the game in the hope that
Cam would go with him, but he wasn’t feeling up to the crowds and the noise.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”
Cam rose after the end of the second period, looking for something to eat.
“Down 3-1. They’re not playing badly; it’s just that nothing’s going their
way.”

The Canucks lost and Claire waited to
hear from Jack, but he didn’t call. Maybe it was just as well; she didn’t know
what she could have said to make him feel better.

The phone remained silent on Monday.
Claire tried to work but it was difficult when every thought led her back to
the man who had so quickly become the most important person in her life.
Suddenly dating a hockey player didn’t seem so glamorous. She was relieved when
Zoey and Tony invited her to watch tomorrow night’s game at the sports bar. At
least she had something to look forward to.

* * *

The bar was more crowded than ever, the
air thick with tension as Claire edged her way toward Tony and Zoey’s usual
table.

“Do you know how hard it was, saving
this stool for you?” Zoey kicked it out from under the table. “Sit down and
hang on to it for all you’re worth.”

Claire did as she was told, aware that
behind her on the big screen the game was starting. She couldn’t watch, but it
wasn’t necessary. She could tell from the groans of the crowd every time the
Canucks failed to score. The first period ended with no score.

“How come you’re not watching?” Zoey
motioned for more drinks, then turned back to Claire. “Jack was terrific.”

“I’m so afraid he’ll get injured. I
don’t think I could stand to watch that.”

“Oh, My God. I forgot to tell you. The
other blog came out today. The guy really blasted you.”

“He did?”

“Big time. Randy is beside himself with
excitement. At last count there were over a thousand comments.”

Claire tried to call it up on her phone,
but the second period was starting and she couldn’t concentrate. “I’ll read it
later,” she said, wondering just how bad it could be.

A momentary silence fell over the bar
when San Jose scored a goal. The high octane energy of the crowd fizzled a bit,
and then deflated even more as San Jose scored a second goal two minutes later.
The rest of the period was hard fought, but neither team scored.

In the third period, Jack made a
beautiful pass resulting in a goal, but at the end of the game San Jose had
defeated the Canucks, ending their bid for the Stanley Cup. Claire made her way
home, hoping that Jack would call but knowing that he wouldn’t. She let herself
into her apartment and went to the computer. Might as well hear all the bad
news at once.

The blog was prefaced by a short intro
from Randy:

“Look out for the fireworks! Here’s
today’s blog in response to last week’s anti-violence rant.”

She took a deep breath and started to
read.

“When I was asked to present the opinion
of a hockey insider on the issue of violence in professional hockey, I assumed
it would be in response to accurate, reasoned arguments...not some irrational
drivel plucked from thin air.

First of all, let’s clear something up.
Yes, I’m a guy. I like to think I’m a gentleman, but there’s a limit to my
patience. As they say in hockey, the gloves are off.

The anti-violence blogger has trotted
out the same tired old arguments that have been recycled over and over for the
last decade. How about getting your facts straight, or is that too much
trouble?

Hockey violence was getting out of hand,
I admit that. But the previous sentence is in the past tense for a reason. Does
this blogger even follow hockey? To quote him, “I don’t think so”. Anyone who
follows hockey would know that the NHL has appointed a new Head of Discipline
to review serious infractions.

The new appointment and the harsher
penalties are working, people. Those players acting as enforcers have admitted
publicly that they are now approaching the game with renewed thoughtfulness,
and that each time they make a hit, they consider the results.

From an insider’s point of view, this is
major, and bears repeating. The enforcers in the game are making a conscious
decision to play the game in a more responsible fashion. Are they going to
continue to hit, and to protect their star players? Of course, but to a man
they speak of restraint.

Has the anti-blogger spoken of this? No.
Why? Could it possibly be to make the anti-blog more sensational? Wait a
minute...that would be like players fighting to make the game more sensational,
wouldn’t it?

One final thought: The anti-blogger says
that the fans have been conditioned to expect fights. An insulting comment if
there ever was one, and I take offense on behalf of fans everywhere. Shame on
you, anti-blogger. Shame on you.

NOW, let’s hear what the readers have to
say. I look forward to it.”

Claire slumped back in her office chair,
stunned. She felt like she’d been thrown to the wolves. How could Randy have
printed this? She read it again, her heart pounding. What had she gotten
herself into? She ignored the niggling little voice in the back of her head
whispering that there might be something to what the blogger was saying. No...
she was in the right, and she knew it. She’d been standing up for every player
who’d ever been hurt while playing the game they loved. Why should she be
subjected to public humiliation for stating her opinion?

They don’t even know it’s you said the
voice. But anger overrode reason and she didn’t listen. She would face down
Randy first thing in the morning and demand a retraction.

She tore off her clothes and climbed
into bed wishing she could discuss it with Jack. He’d know how to handle this.

When Claire woke the next morning she
was surprised that she’d slept at all. She was usually a good sleeper, but last
night had been agony. Between not hearing from Jack and the humiliation of the
blog, her mind had been far too active, keeping her awake until around four in
the morning.

She dragged herself into the bathroom
and studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked terrible, but she hadn’t
changed her mind about visiting the Phoenix offices.

With angry strides she covered the eight
blocks to the newspaper, rehearsing what she would say to Randy.

She paused on the ground floor of the building
and glanced toward Zoey’s office. The lights were off, indicating that her
friend was out. Just as well; if she saw her, she might lose some of her
determination. She ran up the stairs to the mezzanine.

Randy looked up as she appeared at the
open door to his office.

“Hello, Claire.” He looked uneasy.
Good... she was about to make him even more uncomfortable.

She advanced into the office. “How could
you do that to me, Randy? How could you print that blog?”

The editor pulled himself together. “You
mean the one yesterday?” He seemed to be playing for time.

“Of course the one yesterday. The one by
that Neanderthal!” She stopped to take in air. “That blog is nothing more than
a call for more violence. To say that I didn’t do my research and that I insulted
the fans is simply not true.”

Randy picked up a newspaper. It had been
folded back to the article in question. “Come on, Claire, you’re not being
reasonable. You know how it works. This is his opinion, and he’s entitled to
it.” He looked over her shoulder and frowned, but she didn’t notice.

“But he’s wrong, Randy. Not only that,
he’s insulting.”

“Funny.” The editor had a strange smile
on his face. “He says the same thing about you.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Loving what?” The voice came from behind
her. She recognized it, but couldn’t quite believe her ears. She whirled
around. “Jack?”

He was leaning against the door jamb.
“Claire. What are you doing here?”

She grabbed the newspaper from the desk
and showed it to Jack. “This is what I’m doing here. This...” she sputtered.
“This idiot thinks he can insult me by saying that I didn’t do my research.”

The colour drained from his face. “You
wrote that drivel?”

“Drivel?” At the familiar word, the
truth hit her and she took a step back. “You were the other blogger?” The world
seemed to give way beneath her feet.

“Yes.” A muscle tensed in his jaw and
she noticed that he’d shaved off his playoff beard. “You don’t even follow
hockey, Claire. With the exception of your brother, you have no connection to
it. What made you think you could write a blog about the subject?”

She couldn’t believe what she was
hearing. She turned back to Randy. “See what I mean? It’s all about the Old
Boys network, or some such archaic notion. I’m a woman so I can’t possibly have
a valid opinion. But let’s say by some wild stretch of the imagination that I
did have something to add to the discussion, it would be a waste of time.
Nobody connected with hockey will entertain the thought of changes, even when
it’s clear that the rules are too loose to carry any weight. How many more kids
are going to get hurt before hockey gets serious about protecting the players?”

“Now wait just a minute.” This was a
side of Jack she hadn’t seen before. He was angry. He tapped a finger on his
words. “Did you even read this, or is that another of your ridiculous
accusations? You didn’t even bother to mention that a new position has been
created. We now have someone who is policing the violence. Things don’t change
overnight, Claire, but we’re working on it.”

Tears had been gathering behind her eyes
and she blinked them back. “Well Jack Logan, You’ve made it clear where you
stand on this subject.” She grabbed the newspaper out of his hand, tossed it on
Randy’s desk and then turned back to him. “As for the supposed changes, I
suggest you work on them faster.”

She whirled around to face Randy. “I
won’t be blogging again. That’s what I came to tell you.” She shot a look at
Jack, who had turned aside and refused to meet her eyes. “This isn’t what I
signed up for.” She turned and left with as much dignity as she could muster.

* * *

Jack lowered himself into one of the
chairs in front of Randy’s desk and ran a hand over his face. “This isn’t the
best week I’ve ever had,” he said, expelling a breath of air.

Randy looked down through the glass
window of his office as Claire walked past Zoey’s empty office, shoved open the
front door and walked outside. “I didn’t know you two knew each other, or I’d
never have agreed to this.”

Jack shook his head. “I’m still trying
to get my head around the fact that she’s the other blogger.”

Randy toyed with his pen. “You were
kinda rough on her, weren’t you?”

Jack looked up. “Was I?” He rotated his
shoulders. “Maybe I was, but I feel strongly about the changes we’re trying to
make. Besides, she didn’t exactly pull her punches.”

Randy nodded. “I understand. Where do we
go from here?”

“I’m not sure, but you’ll be going there
without me.” He gave a short, dry laugh. “That’s why I came here this morning.
I’m not cut out for this either, it appears.” He looked up. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Between the two
of you, you’ve really ignited a controversy. We’ve had hundreds of requests
from people who want to offer their opinion. Maybe we’ll open it up and feature
a different one every day.”

“You mean strike while the iron is hot.”

Randy grinned. “Something like that.”

“Well, good luck.” He got up. “I have to
go to the airport to pick somebody up. There are always photographers hanging
around so I have to find my smile somewhere between here and there.”

“Good luck, Jack.”

“Thanks, Randy. Don’t forget to send the
donation to the Childrens’ Hospital.” He paused at the door. “Make it a big
one.”

* * *

Jack waited impatiently outside the
baggage claim area. A few people had recognized him, but they’d mercifully left
him alone. Even the photographers seemed to be giving him a wide berth.
Vancouverites took their hockey seriously and they were as disappointed as the
players. Maybe more.

She stood out from the other passengers
converging on the baggage carousel. She spotted him and waved, a tall, lithe
figure crowned with a halo of golden hair.

“Jack!” She let go of the handle of her
suitcase and threw herself into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.” She kissed
him and then pulled back. “You look like hell.”

He grabbed her suitcase and they headed
outside. “As I said to someone just this morning, it hasn’t been my best week.”

“And that’s why I decided to come. The
magazine didn’t want to give me the time off, but I told them it was an
emergency.”

“I’m glad you came, Cassie.” He slipped
an arm around her waist. “I could use some cheering up.”

* * *

Claire’s steps slowed as she neared her
apartment building. She didn’t want to go in and start a new project, and she
certainly didn’t want to be reminded that she’d just blown off the most
exciting man she’d ever known.

She walked aimlessly and found herself
sitting on a bench by Lost Lagoon. Looking back, the morning seemed like a
dream sequence in a movie. As she’d walked back from the Phoenix offices the
anger had leaked out of her like air from a balloon. The tears that she’d work
so hard to hold back began to fall and she stared through them at the swans,
trying to make sense out of what had happened in Randy’s office.

It was clear that she didn’t know Jack
Logan at all. He could be cold and ruthless; he’d proven that with his words in
the blog and again this morning in Randy’s office. How had they gone from the
thrill of building a new relationship to despising each other in such a short
period of time?

Every word of his blog was indelibly
printed in her mind. Was there any legitimacy in what he’d said? Had she really
recycled the same old facts, as he had suggested? She hated to admit it, but
there might be some truth to that statement.

And yet, the central theme of her
argument was still valid. Young men were being hurt playing the game they love,
and she’d done her utmost to convince an apathetic public that the rules need
changing.

As for Jack’s comments...she had to
admit that her feelings were hurt more than her journalistic integrity. She’d
lashed out at him and now the words they’d exchanged couldn’t be taken back.
The damage to their relationship was irreparable; he’d made that clear when he
turned away from her. Besides, she told herself, second chances only come along
in romance novels...a fact well known by every woman with a broken heart.

A soft rain began to fall, pebbling the
surface of the lagoon. She sat for a few moments, gathering her thoughts,
deciding what to do next. One thing was clear; she needed to get away from
Vancouver. She got up and went back to her apartment.

She booked a flight and dragged her
suitcase out of the closet. She started tossing in items without much thought;
she could buy whatever she needed when she got there. What was important now
was to get away.

The phone rang around seven in the
evening. She’d fallen asleep, and apart from being groggy, she felt better for
the much-needed rest. She glanced at the caller ID, disappointed to see that it
was Zoey. You don’t really think he’s going to call, do you? asked the annoying
voice in her head.

“A girl can always hope,” she said
aloud, and pressed talk. “Hi, Zoey.”

“Well, my friend. You certainly stirred
things up today.”

“You could say that. Did you hear about
Jack being there?”

“Are you kidding? The whole shop was
buzzing about it. Randy says you two practically tore each other apart.”

“It wasn’t pretty.” Her voice cracked.
“Looks like it’s over, Zo.”

“Yeah.” Her friend was silent for a few
extra beats. “Hey, Claire? I wanted to give you a heads up.”

Something cold slithered down her back.
“What do you mean?”

“We’re running a picture of Jack with a
woman in tomorrow’s paper. It’ll be up on the website tonight.”

“A woman?” Claire’s heart plummeted.
“Already?” Deep inside she hadn’t really believed it was over. Maybe she needed
something like this to force her to get on with her life. “Please don’t tell me
she’s a blonde.”

Zoey silence confirmed her fears.

“Where is it taken? Do you know?”

“At the airport. Apparently he was
meeting her. I’m sorry, Claire, but she’s gorgeous and it looks like he’s
kissing her.”

“Does is just look that way or is he
really kissing her?”

“He’s kissing her.”

Claire mustered every shred of dignity
she had left. “Well then, it looks like I made the right decision. I’m going
away for a while.”

“What about work?”

“I’ve just finished that mega project. I
can easily take a week off. Maybe more.”

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Moi? Why not?”

“Because I need to be by myself. Plus, I
don’t want you doing anything crazy like coming to be with me.” She paused.
“Please don’t be offended, but if I’m going to get over him I need to do this
my way.”

There was a moment’s silence. “I’m not
offended, I’m just worried. If I absolutely positively promise not to bother
you, will you tell me?”

“Okay, okay. I’m going to Oahu. I was
lucky enough to get a last minute cancellation in a condo on the North Shore in
the funky little surf town of Haleiwa.”

“That’s the place you told me about.”

“Right” Claire glanced at her laptop.
“I’ll keep in touch, I promise. And I’m thinking about writing one last blog.
Do you think Randy would consider it if I sent it in?”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll threaten to quit.”

“Don’t do that.”

“The key word in that sentence was
threaten.”

Claire laughed. “You’re the best, Zoey.
I’ll e-mail you the phone and address of the condo right now. I’m leaving
around noon.”

“You’re going to tell Cam, and your
parents, right?”

“I had to talk to Cam because I’ve been
driving him around, but he’s getting better every day and he says he’ll be
fine. He’s going to tell Mom and Dad tomorrow after I’m gone.”

“Take it easy, kiddo. Remember, I love
you.”

“Love you too, Zo. Talk to you later.”

* * *

“So explain this to me again.” Cassie
and Jack were walking along the seawall the next morning. “You met this girl
here, on the seawall, and she didn’t recognize you?”