Page 42 of Home of the Brave

She continued laughing, harder now. “Oh, Victoria, that’s so wholesome and wrong!”

I glared at her. “I know now.”

“Most athletes shouldn’t open their mouths, let alone have the things they say printed.”

“Not all of them,” I snapped. “Most hockey players––”

“Yeah, hockey is the exception. They’re all working too hard to get into too much trouble.”

“Not that they’re all angels.”

“Oh, I know, but I’ve covered football, remember?” She gave me a pointed look. “Those guys have too much money and too much time.”

“I come from the athlete’s side, though. I know the sacrifices needed to get to their level, not only from them but their families and communities. I wanted to be able to share those stories.”

“And hopefully, one day you will.” She leaned back. “It’s not all bad. We do get to spotlight some pretty incredible people.”

“True,” I smiled.

“Some incredibly hot people.”

I laughed. “Oh yeah, have your eye on anyone specific?”

“No,” she wagged her brows. “But I think you do.”

“Who?” I gasped.

“Henson,” she cocked her head. "Obviously."

I let out a breath that was supposed to be a laugh. “What?”

“The lengths you went to far exceed a normal apology.” She stared me down. “An explanation and heartfelt ‘I’m sorry’ was all that was needed.”

“No, he got his entire team to stop giving interviews. I needed to do a little more than just say sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I really don’t think so.”

“The article was pretty mean. I didn’t write it, but he believed I did.”

“So you did a deep dive into every interview the man’s ever given, even asking for assistance.” She didn’t need to remind me I dragged her into this. “You went far above and beyond what was necessary.”

“He was holding a grudge for years,” I pointed out.

“And it wasn’t even your fault. You could have shown him the proof and moved on.”

I refused to admit she was right.

“But even agreeing that collecting a list of his favorite things was a nice addition, that wasn’t all.”

I closed my eyes.

“You hung around. You went in for seconds."

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t like how that sounds.”

“You spoke to him off the record,” she winked. “As a journalist, that’s a pretty big deal.”

Instant regret for ever telling her anything washed over me.