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The room filled with steam after Coach left, partially from the showers and partially from the collective anger of the players. We were being punished for something that wasn’t wrong. It was like sending a cat to prison for catching a mouse.
Smitty and I left King Coliseum together, and once we were out of Colton’s earshot, Smitty whispered, “This has fucking Everleigh written all over it.”
“Or Coach,” I added, a little too quickly.
“Fuck that.” Smitty hopped into the driver’s seat of his Escalade. “That bitch should be more concerned about what happens on the ice, not off it.”
My hand started to hurt and I realized that I had balled it into a fist. Smitty was right, but it still didn’t stop the urge to punch him in the face for talking about Everleigh like that. “Hey, I’m being punished for something I didn’t even do. Dancing with a puck bunny wasn’t exactly grounds for benching me.”
The growl of Smitty’s Escalade briefly interrupted our conversation. “Yeah, man. That sucks for you. If you’re going to get busted for something you didn’t do, maybe you should just start doing it.” He winked and then rolled up his window.
My 1987 Cadillac, the same car I’d had since playing in the Northern Professional Hocey League, sat at the edge of the private lot. I liked to park as far away as possible to maximize the distance I had to walk. Was Smitty right? Instead of leaving that pool party alone, to go home and watch videos of our past games with my dog, should I have snorted some drugs off of Paula?
Even though the heat of the summer permeated into the underground parking lot of my apartment building, I trudged up the nine stories to my apartment instead of taking the elevator. Before starting, I’d pressed the button for the ninth floor, and as I stepped into my apartment I heard the elevator ding. I smiled. I always beat the elevator.
My apartment seemed empty without my dog. Norman’s tail usually whacked against the refrigerator, next to his food bowl, whenever I got home. I’d usually take him for a swim or a walk as soon I got home. Without him here, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself.
Fall training was intensive, and I’d sent him to a luxury dog sitter upstate so that he wouldn’t be neglected while I lived and breathed hockey. Thinking of Norman reminded me of why I did what I did, though. My dog had been a rescue, and I’d given him the best life I could. Part of the reason I’d picked this apartment was the fact that there was a dog pool three blocks from the house, and it was one of Norman’s favorite places to go when we were in the city.
Without my companion, I sat in my leather recliner and stewed. If Everleigh was behind Coach’s decision to shake up the starting lineup, I had to set things straight. Something gnawed at my gut. Coach had been brutal with me, almost as though someone had instructed him to give me a hard time. But Everleigh was a professional, and she wouldn’t take something personal out on a player. At least that’s what I’d thought until today.
I scrolled my phone until I found her name, saved asEEK. I had been so nervous the first time I took down her number, that my hands had shaken when entering her initials. And then it had seemed smart to keep it that way as a code while we were fooling around.
My hands shook as I hesitated with my thumb over EEK.
I couldn’t let her win in her desire to control every aspect of every player’s life – including ruining mine.
Taking a deep breath, my heart pounded as the phone started to ring.
FIVE
EVERLEIGH
By the timemy pilates instructor knocked at the door and I heard him chatting with Anne, my maid, I had already done a ten-mile run. I shook my bottle of protein powder as Miles knocked on the door of my home gym.
“Good morning, Everleigh.” Miles was an aspiring ballet dancer and had legs that I would kill for. “Are you feeling better today?”
“Yes, Miles. The migraine is gone.” I didn’t know why, but I had felt the need to lie to Miles about yesterday’s cancellation. Somehow a migraine seemed respectable – an all-day hangover, not so much. “I need you to work me hard today.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Blondie.” He winked. “We’re going to wear out the springs on this pilates machine before the hour is over. But let’s start with a warmup.”
“I’m way ahead of you on that one.” I grinned. “Ten miles ahead.”
“Everleigh.” Miles gave me a disappointed look. “I thought that we’d talked about overtraining.”
“But I missed a day, Miles.”
“Sweetheart, you need to give your muscles time to recover.” Miles sat on the slider of the pilates machine and clasped his hands in front of him. “Did you do any other exercise besides running this morning?”
I had done some pushups. “Nope. Just a run.” The lie came out easily. Working out hard was one of the things that got my mind off Gunnar, and it was a healthier route than the alcohol binge I had opted for at Colton’s house.
“Okay.” His eyes sparkled and he leaped up from the machine. “We’re going to focus on your upper body today, and that’s it.”
Halfway through the grueling workout, my arms were trembling. Miles had been working with me for over a year, and pilates had completely changed my body. My phone rang and I used it as an excuse to cut the current triceps exercise short. “Sorry Miles, but I’m expecting an important call.”
Miles crossed his arms and pursed his lips at me, but gestured for me to answer the call with a dismissive wave of his hand. As I saw the name on the screen, I instantly regretted saying that I had to take the call. It was Gunnar. Was my name on his butt speed dial, I wondered as I paused with my finger over the button to accept the call. I glanced at Miles. He was watching me.
I accepted the call but didn’t speak right away. Holding my breath, my heart bashed against my rib cage as I strained to hear what was happening in the background of the call.
