All the questions have been okay so far. Nothing outside of what we went over before she set her phone up to record and yet I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can’t relax. Unlike Whit who is chatting with the woman like they’ve known each other for years.
I want to be angry about that except I can’t seem to dredge up that emotion. I want to believe this reporter who seems to have a connection with the team owner I can’t figure out, isn’t tryingto catch us in a lie or make a spectacle of me or my daughter. But I can’t quite get there either.
I’m so used to being the only one taking care of Whitney that it’s hard to believe this stranger would have her best interests at heart.
“So, Beckett. How do you feel about the world knowing about Whitney?” Cami asks.
I frown, I can’t help it although I know I should because the camera will catch every emotion crossing my face. Taking a breath, I try to relax my face and gather my thoughts. “To be honest I’m not sure yet. Maybe ask me again in a day or two.”
Cami laughs softly. “I’ll be sure to do that next time we talk. But maybe I can help you decide how you feel now. Are you angry that your secret has been discovered, effectively forcing the two of you to sit down with me and talk about your lives?”
“Yes and no. Whit’s never been a secret per se. I’ve kept her out of the spotlight for so long it’s hard to remember when it became a hidden fact.”
“You’ve always been one of the league’s elusive players when it comes to media attention off the ice and some are likely to suggest it was to hide the fact you’re an unmarried single father.”
“It was to protect someone who couldn’t protect herself.” I swallow. Lick my lips. I have no idea where those words came from, I certainly hadn’t thought it before saying it even if it is the truth. “Look. I’m not saying all reporters are bad but everyone has seen or heard the lengths some of them can go to for a photo or something they consider scandalous. I wanted to protect my daughter, and myself, from that.”
“But you weren’t in the league when Whitney was born.”
“No.”
“Then you wouldn’t have needed to protect her from the press.”
“No.” I’m sweating now. I can feel it beading across my forehead. I’m sure the camera is picking it up but I can’t wipe my face. There’s so much I don’t want to reveal to the world about mydaughter. I need to apply the same principles I apply to my game. Never let them see you sweat. Never show your fear.
“So why not tell everyone about her?”
“How was I supposed to do that? Take out an advertisement in the paper? I’m not one to want the spotlight. Even if I didn’t have Whit to protect I wouldn’t seek out media attention. When I leave the ice and the arena, my job is over and I leave that behind. I go home, or to the hotel if we’re playing away, and I’m just a man, a dad, who wants to spend time with his daughter.”
“You’re saying you’re no different than the average Joe who goes to work then goes home? Is that possible when what you do for a living is in the public eye?”
“I think I proved exactly that.” I don’t mean it as a slap but the flash in Cami’s eyes seems to indicate she’s taken it that way and the urge to soften my words is impossible to ignore. “I never set out to deceive anyone. All I wanted was to give my daughter as normal a life as possible. It’s hard being a single parent without having the media put you under a spotlight, without the public judging you for every decision you make.”
“Let’s talk about that, being a single parent and having a job that takes you away from home so often. How hard was it leaving Whitney so much?”
I smile. “In spite of no one knowing about her before now she accompanied me on most of my away games over the years. There were plenty of days, before and after an away game, where I was in a hotel room helping her with school work.”
“You home schooled her?”
“Yes. She was enrolled in a system that allowed her to travel with me until high school when we both decided attending a physical campus would be the best way to finish her schooling before college.”
“I’m impressed. It takes considerable effort and discipline to homeschool. For the parent and the child.”
“The program made it easy for both of us and Whit’s smart.Smarter than her dad, that’s for sure.” I laugh. “She’s definitely taught me a thing or two over the years.”
“It’s clear you love your daughter, Beckett. What’s one thing you want the world to know about her?”
“Just that. I love her more than anything. If what I do for a living put her in jeopardy, I’d quit in a heartbeat.” I reach over and grab Whit’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “She’s my reason for being.”
The room goes quiet while I stare at the woman across from me. She’s got a smile curling one side of her mouth and her eyes are sparkling with the liquid pooling in them.
“We’ll end it there,” she murmurs a long moment later. Getting up, she retrieves her phone and stops the recording.
Letting go of Whit’s hand I push to my feet and ask, “Can we see it?”
“Sure. Or you can take a break, get something to eat or drink while I record Coach Alcott’s interview, then we can watch them both.”
“Do you need a laptop?” the GM asks, reminding me we aren’t alone in the room.
