Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three (23 page)

I replied calmly. “It’s not a problem for me. I was surprised. I know I did the wrong thing tonight, but now that I know she’ll be there, it’s fine.”

“James, are you sure? If she was a legitimate reporter, I would agree with you, but I suspect they’re only using her for your games. I’ve never seen her on any Canucks broadcasts.”

“No, it’s good. If that’s it, I’m going to finish getting dressed now.”

We had a two-day stay in Vancouver before our next game in Edmonton, and a bunch of us were going out for dinner tonight.

When we came out of the trainer's room, Kelly was gone. I felt disappointed, but I suspected that I wouldn’t be on her top ten list right now.

“
H
ey
, Doggy-style,” Anders called out on Monday morning. “Good piece on the fight Saturday night.”

Jeremy, along with the video editor, Brownie, had taken our interviews with the two combatants and spliced them together into a pretty good piece. It was hard to tell who was angrier, March or Kissman. Zack had filmed an angle with my surprised reaction to Kissman’s profanity-laden tirade. As if I hadn’t used all of those words myself. And then we used their threats to promote the next time the teams met up in March. All in all, a good night’s work.

As for the other part of my evening, Brownie had taken pity on me and spliced the Frechette interview so that it looked like Jimmy had actually answered my question. I thanked him, and he gruffly brushed me off, muttering something about asshole superstars. There was a real possibility that my issue with Jimmy might not be discovered. However, once something happened on camera, the video record was forever. The Frechette piece was a boring scrum video, which aired once and then had been shunted off to the website. Hopefully, the good stuff I did outweighed the bad.

I was working at my desk when Williams walked by. Without even stopping he called out, “Tanaka. In my office.”

There was glee in his voice. The whole office went silent and everyone stared at me. I heard someone whisper, “Who’s got today in the pool?”

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked in his office.

“Shut the door,” he snapped. I did so and sat down.

“So, Tanaka, I understand that you had a little problem in the Hawk’s room on Saturday.”

So much for the carefully edited tape. But he was right; I had failed in my reporter job. “Yes. James Frechette would not answer my question.”

“And why do you think that was?” Williams was leaning back in his ergonomic leatherette chair and smiling. The fucker was really enjoying this.

“I don’t know. But I would assume it’s because we once had a personal relationship.”

“Yeah, that seems about right. Given that you can’t do your job, I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Are you kidding me? Over this? Look, I think it was only the shock of seeing me in the room. I can talk to James and smooth things over. I’m sure it will be fine the next time.” I swallowed. Please, let there be a next time.

“Yeah, sure. I know exactly how you’d smooth things over. Since you’re still on probation, I don’t even have to give you cause, but I will give you some advice. You can’t sleep your way to the top.”

“That’s bullshit. It’s true that I dated James, but everything else is a lie. I never had a personal relationship with Ross Laurie or anyone else.”

Williams sneered at me. “Really? Well, I heard you were coming on to Peter Haines before a live interview. The only reason I didn’t fire you then was because I didn’t have any proof. But I do have the thing with you and Frechette on tape—despite your best efforts to edit it out.”

I stood up, but I wasn’t leaving without telling him what I really thought. “You know what? I worked really hard and tried to do a good job when I got nothing in the way of real training or help. Even though you tried to sabotage me at every turn, I still lasted this long. If you don’t recognize potential because of your own prejudices, that’s your loss.”

He shook his head and waved in a mocking way. “Bye-bye, Tanaka. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out. I’ve already spoken to H.R,. and I’ll have Security escort you out, since you’re the kind of person who would do something emotional and vindictive.”

Luckily I wasn’t a crier, since it was pretty painful to get fired in front of a bunch of people who put money on when this day would happen. I went to my desk and cleaned it out with Gar from Security watching me. I didn’t have a ton of stuff to pack; all my files were on my BlackBerry anyway. I boxed up the mini-terrarium my dad had given me, my coffee cup, and my makeup bag. Everyone in the office was pretending not to watch.

As I walked out, Jeremy Ormiston stopped me. “I’m sorry you’re going, Kelly. You did a great job on Saturday night.”

“Thank you, Jeremy,” I said. But I wasn’t sure if he really meant it or he was merely happy because he had won the pool.

I
got home
around lunchtime and was surprised to find April there. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work now?”

“Ugh. They’ve halted production completely. There’s a rumour we might get cancelled, but they won’t know anything until Friday. I’m working on my résumé.”

“Awesome. That makes two of us.”

April searched my face for signs of a joke. “Wait. What are you doing home so early?”

“I got fired,” I said, and then burst into tears.

“Oh my God, Kelly.” She ran over and threw her arms around me and squeezed tightly.

“I worked so hard,” I sobbed. “And I got fired for one stupid thing. It’s not fair.” April kept holding onto me and finally got me to sit down on the couch. I didn’t cry that long, but I felt embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I broke down like that.”

“It’s okay. I totally panicked though. I’ve never seen you cry before.” She hugged me again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yeah, sure.” April bustled off to make the tea. She returned with tea and Oreos.

“Okay, tell me the whole story. Those idiots have not appreciated you from day one.”

I gave her the short version, and she was filled with indignation.

“I can’t believe he did that. Your boss is an enormous douchebag, and James is a bigger one.”

“I guess he’s still mad at me.”

“He needs to suck it up. It’s been months, and he’s a big boy. What a turd-head.”

“To be fair, he didn’t know it would get me fired.”

“Why should we be fair? I know how hard you’ve worked, you did insane hours and all that work at home too.”

“Yeah, that’s what bothers me most. I feel like I made this decision to put my time and effort into a career instead of a relationship. Because a guy could leave, but you’ll always have your work. And look how things turned out.”

“Yeah. Well, at least you have the experience and a demo reel for your next job.”

“And I have no idea what my next job will be.” I sighed. It was too soon to think about all this. “Crap, April, I don’t even get severance. How am I going to keep paying the rent? What if we’re both unemployed by this weekend?”

“We’re two gorgeous, intelligent, hard-working women. Something will turn up. Or maybe we’ll have to start our own business.”

I stretched out on the couch. “What business? Designer clothes made out of hockey jerseys? The mind boggles.” I couldn’t ask my parents for money; they were far away having their big adventure, and I didn’t want to worry them. Besides, only a few months ago, we were celebrating my successful independence.

I’d have to find a new job, but I had no in-depth skills or experience yet, and my demo reel was pretty lame.

April patted my shoulder. “Stop worrying. I can see it on your face. Take this week off, and we’ll both find jobs next week. I have a rich fiancé who can pay our rent for a month if need be. In fact, this will give me more time for the wedding, and you could help.”

“That’s not really a paying job.” I couldn’t go back to the radio station either; all my old jobs were filled. “How long do I get to wallow for?”

“Given our precarious financial situation—24 hours,” April said. I knew she was joking, but she was right. I decided to be nice to myself all day and then start job-hunting tomorrow.

J
ames

S
ince we were staying
in Vancouver for two days, we practiced at GM Place on Monday afternoon. The Canucks were coming off the ice as we were going on, and a few media types were here for them. As the departing opponents, nobody wanted to talk to us, and I couldn’t see Kelly anywhere.

I was retying my skates on the bench, when someone spoke to me.

“Hey, dude.”

“Yeah?” I looked up and saw a skinny, long-haired cameraman.

“You’re a big fucking asshole,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, it would have taken ten seconds and no effort at all for you to answer Kelly’s question. I hope you’re happy now.”

“What are you talking about?”

He glared at me. “She got fired. Because you’re a jerk-off.”

“No way. Over that?”

He gave me one last scowl and left. It was tough to practice after that, but I kept my focus. As soon as I got off the ice, I called Tim Glasser.

“What’s up, James?”

“Is it true that Kelly Tanaka got fired because I wouldn’t talk to her?” The question came out more baldly than I had intended.

“Well, uh, I did hear something along those lines. But let me double check.”

I was back at the hotel by the time Tim called.

“Okay, I managed to get the full story. You don’t have to feel responsible. Apparently, she got caught in some kind of territorial dispute between head office and Vancouver. If it wasn’t this thing with you, it would have been something else.”

But it had been the thing with me, and I felt terrible. Fame came with responsibility, and that something that I was still learning. If you had one off-day and were rude to a fan, they would get upset and tell their friends. Or if you weren’t playing well for an extended period, people looked for causes in your personal life. And now, my acting like a petty child resulted in Kelly getting fired.

“Can’t I do something about this? I’d be happy to give her an exclusive interview or whatever they want. I want to fix things.”

“Realistically, they’re not going to rehire her just because we offer them an interview. The whole deal was a set-up anyway. They sent her because they wanted you to be embarrassed. She’s not an experienced reporter, and she shouldn’t even have been in the room.”

I couldn’t believe how cold Tim was being about this whole deal. “But I got her fired,” I repeated.

“James, it wasn’t your finest moment, and you can learn from this. If my ex showed up unexpectedly, I might do something dumb too. Besides, did you see the hatchet job she did on Kisser? I’ve had to put out a few fires because of that. The league hates hearing threats off the ice. She acts all innocent, but she’s really a barracuda.”

“Make up your mind. Is she a good reporter or a bad one? Anyway, won’t this be bad publicity for our team? That we got a reporter fired.”

“She’s nobody. If she were a popular reporter, there might be backlash, but nobody even knows who she is.”

If Tim was in the room, I might have hit him by now. But I had already let my emotions get the better of me and look how that turned out. I thanked him and hung up. Then I cancelled my dinner plans and headed out to Kelly’s place.

When I knocked on the door of her apartment, April opened it, took one look at me and slammed it shut. I heard the deadbolt dropping for good measure.

“Please, April. I just want to see Kelly and apologize for what I’ve done,” I yelled through the door.

“Really? I thought you weren’t talking to her. Isn’t that the problem?” April’s voice was only slightly muffled. “Anyway, she’s not even here.”

“Where is she?”

“Like I’d tell you. Go away.”

“She’s at Phil’s, isn’t she? Okay, fine, I’ll go and talk to her there. That’s how bad I feel.”

I heard the bolt click and the door opened. April squinted at me. “Say what?”

“Uh, that’s how bad I feel about what happened,” I repeated.

“No, why would you think she’s at Phil’s?”

“Because she chose him over me. They’re probably engaged by now, right?”

April shook her head. “Not hardly. What exactly did Kelly say to you when she broke up with you?”

“I don’t know. Why are you asking me this?”

“Oh, no reason. Look, Kelly has gone out, and she won’t be back for ages—years even. I will let her know you were here and you apologized for being the world’s biggest dickhead. Now leave.”

The door closed again. This time I could hear April walking away, so my options would be to camp out on the doorstep or go and search for Kelly. What would Kelly do if she were stressed?

W
hen I left the gym
, Jimmy was sitting on the bench near where my bike was locked. It was raining lightly, and he had his collar pulled up and a knit cap pulled down. Our eyes met, but neither one of us said anything for a moment. Then he rushed over.

“Kelly, I’m so, so sorry. I was a complete idiot, and I wanted to apologize for everything that happened to you.”

I nodded at him, but no words would come out.

“Look, can we talk for a bit? Do you want to go to dinner or something?”

I shook my head. “I’m kind of in a weird place right now, and you’re the last person I want to talk to.”

“Okay, sure. How about five minutes instead? We could go for a coffee, or just walk.”

Having finished a tough workout, I was feeling damp and icky. All I wanted to do was go home and take a shower. And frankly, I was tired of doing everything on the schedule of big, important men. “I’m going to get cleaned up. If you want to go for coffee after that, fine.”

“Okay, sure. Where should I wait? At your place?” He sounded completely uncertain for once.

“No, there’s a coffee shop near our place, at the corner of Georgia and Jackson. I’ll meet you there in 40 minutes.” Then I hopped on my bike and took off without looking back.

After a shower, I still wasn’t feeling that endorphin high. I wondered how long it would take me to feel better. When hockey finished, I felt depressed because it was like losing a part of myself. Now I was more angry and frustrated. And I felt discouraged. No matter how hard I worked, I came up against sexism. I felt like I had tried to play with boys my whole life, but I was never going to be allowed to. Sure, they might be nice to me, but that was only—as Williams had pointed out—for one reason.

I walked into the coffee shop and saw Jimmy waiting there. He looked a little uncomfortable, as this place was more suited to granola-y neighbourhood moms than fancy NHL superstars. I walked up to the counter and got a cup of tea. Jimmy tried to pay for it, but I waved him off.

“I have just enough in my bank account to pay for this,” I told him. We went and sat down at his table.

“Kelly, look—I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what happened. Is there anything I can do to get your job back?”

“Well, sure. Why don’t you jump into a time machine, spin it back 48 hours and answer my fucking question?”

He intertwined his fingers nervously. “I know, I was a jerk. I was just so surprised to see you there, and it hurt me. But I should have treated you like anyone else.”

“No shit, Sherlock. But you’re so important now, that it doesn’t matter how many little people you step on.”

“That’s not fair. You know nothing about me anymore.”

I drank some tea. “Are we done here? Because I have to work on my résumé.”

He looked genuinely miserable when our eyes met. But that wasn’t moving me at all. He shook his head. “No, actually I have a question. When did you and Phil break up?”

I carefully examined the wood grain of the table. “We didn’t.”

“Oh really? April seemed surprised I even thought you guys were together.”

I didn’t know what to say. But it probably didn’t matter anymore. After what had happened, there was no way either of us could ever care again. “We never broke up because we never went out again.”

“So, why did you let me believe you were getting back with him?”

“I never said that.”

“You never denied it. You implied it.”

He was pushing me too far. “I did it because you got it in your head that you needed me, and I knew what you were like—you’d never give up unless you thought I was with someone else.”

Now his expression changed again. He was looking hopeful, and that was bad news. “So you did love me more. I knew it. I was so sure of that, and I was right.” He reached over and tried to hold my hand, but I pulled back. “Why didn’t you choose me?”

“Because I didn’t think I was the right person for you. You need someone different.”

“That’s not your decision. I told you that back then.”

I never wanted to tell him the rest, but if I didn’t end things completely, we’d never be done. “Well, that’s not all. I could tell that you expected me to say yes, that you never had any real doubts. I found that arrogance troubling, that you wanted me but you took me for granted.”

“Kelly, that’s not true. It’s still you, it’s always been you for me.”

“Jimmy, look how you’ve turned out. What you did last night was not a one-off. I know a lot more about NHL players now. They’re coddled and protected by their organizations; they’re adored and mobbed by fans—especially the big stars. Even their families feel proud and grateful. So, if they make mistakes—it gets excused. If they piss all over the little people, they have nobody to tell them they’re being assholes.”

“That’s not fair. How was I supposed to know you’d get fired over something that small?”

I shrugged that off. He was right, but he was only excusing himself all over again. He needed to start taking responsibility. I was overflowing with emotion, but I wanted to tell him everything—once and for all. “Look, I was in love with you, but I was in love with the guy I met back at hockey camp. He was a little cocky, but he was so sweet. He let me nap in his bunk and saved me the best seat at movie night. The bigger you get, the more you change. You’ll never be that sweet guy again.”

Today was clearly my crying day, but before I started up again, I left the café.