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“These are last season, anyway,” I say, dodging his question. “Enough about my shoes, tell me about Roxie.”
He smiles at the mention of her name, which I find so adorable. “Well, she’s a four month old pure bred German Shepherd, she likes long walks in the park, chew toys that squeak a lot, and sleeps next to me every night.”
“Aww,” I say, without even realizing I said it aloud. “That’s…so cute.”
“I hate leaving her behind when I’m working.” His guilt is evident in the way he glances away from me and then down at the ground, before turning back to me, his expression now unreadable. “My neighbors’ wife breeds dogs. Their house is huge and a lot bigger than mine. She setup a doggy daycare on one side of the house where people in the neighborhood can bring their dogs in the daytime. At least Roxie can spend time with her brothers and sisters. I like that she has family right next door.”
His frown returns as he utters the last part.
“You have family in New Jersey, right? I think I read you have two younger sisters.”
“Had,” he corrects, “I had a family.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.” I bite down on my bottom, lip, feeling stupid and unsure what to say next.
“They’re not dead.” He grinds his teeth, his words coming out as if he were chewing glass. “You have no reason to be sorry. We just don’t talk anymore.”
“After going through some issues with my father over money, I know how hard it can be after you hit a rough patch.”
“What we went through was not a rough patch.” He sits back in his chair and turns his head toward the door, his profile stunning from this angle. “It was a deal breaker.”
He has a lot of mood swings for a man. One minute, he acts as though he’s about to hit on me, and then the next, his eyes darken and his mood changes. I feel sorry for Tyler and whatever happened between him and his family, except I have no idea how I should act without knowing what caused the rift.
“If it makes you feel any better, you were right about my shoes.”
He turns to face me and pins me down with one look. “So, why are you wearing them with your mom sweater?”
I roll my eyes at his comment. “I’m wearing my mom sweater because I felt like it. I chose these shoes because I might as well wear them before I’m forced to sell them to pay my rent.” His confusion forces me to continue, “I used to be rich, like Rockefeller rich. Well, I wasn’t rich per say, not unless you count my trust fund, but…”
It seems wrong to share this part of my life with a stranger, and this is Tyler Kane, of all people. “How about I answer a question if I get one from you in return. Deal?”
Apprehensive, he looks everywhere but at me before he nods his head. “Deal. Now, finish your story.”
“Have you heard of Sentry Publications?”
“The big company that owns about half of the news papers and channels in the U.S.?”
“My grandfather had started the company when he was twenty-five with a few business partners from law school. He bought them out and over the years, my father had taken over. Too bad my dad is an idiot and made a lot of decisions that cost us our company, my legacy. I almost lost my paper.”
“No shit,” he whispers. “You were like Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous kind of rich, huh?”
I take a sip from my mug and nod before I raised the cup to my lips again to finish it off.
“Is that why those interviews were so important to you?”
“Yes. Do you have any idea how much an exclusive interview with Dante Fisher is worth to a small paper like Sports Buzz.”
Stretching his hands over his head, he yawns, drawing my attention to his six-pack as his jersey creeps up just enough to give me a nice view. “How about an interview with me?”
“Are you offering?” An interview with Tyler about more than his career could be worth decent money.
“Depends on what you’re asking, I guess.”
“Tell me about your family.” Crossing my legs, I clear my throat and continue, now feeling brave enough to ask the hard questions, the kind that earns journalists a reputation in this business. “I know everything about your career, but I want to know the real Tyler Kane. What makes you tick? What do you do in your spare time? What are you like outside of hockey? Did you play other sports growing up? What was your childhood like? I just told you about my family drama. I want to hear about your life.”
“My family is off-limits.” Judging by the venom in his voice and the scowl on his handsome face, I should leave him alone, but I prod anyway.
“You promised me one question,” I counter.
