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“And cut…” a voice calls out. A man pushes his way through, holding a clipboard. The director, maybe? Do reality shows even have directors? Maybe he’s a producer, I’ve no idea. “Eric, is it?” he asks, looking at me.
“Eli,” I tell him.
“Sure. Can we do that again? Could you ask your team to play for a minute and we’ll walk in?” he asks. “It won’t take long.”
“Seriously?” Isn’t Reality TV meant to be… reality?
“Sorry,” Greg says. “We won’t take much of your time.” He smiles widely at the rest of the Mavericks. “Then when we’re done that I’d love for you guys to introduce yourselves. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all.”
The team talks excitedly to each other because Greg is the Olympic hero they all grew up with. So I nod and we do it all over again, except this time Goran doesn’t mention Greg’s age and the producer / director / whatever he is looks pleased and nods.
“That’s a wrap for today, gentlemen.” He shakes my hand. “Eric, good to meet you.”
I don’t bother to correct him this time. I’m too intent on getting into the locker room and reminding the guys that we have a game in two days so they need to get rid of the stars in their eyes. It’s going to be aired on the network – nationally. And yes, there’s no real skin in the game, at least not when it comes to the league.
But for these players the skin is about exposure. Their future careers. I don’t want them to be known as part of the team that failed.
Once again, I wait until they’ve all left before I call the cleaning crew and let them know we’re done. When I walk out of the door, I see Mac and her sister in some kind of intense conversation by the exit into the parking lot.
Mac looks up and sees me watching them. Does she want me to pretend I haven’t seen her?
I can’t. I just can’t.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, walking toward them. Isabella’s wearing a pair of yoga pants and a cropped hoodie, her skate bag in her hand. She turns to look at me, and her furrowed brow immediately smooths.
So much for sisterly love.
“I’m trying to persuade Mackenzie to come to dinner.” She winks at me. “Since I don’t have an excuse I have to go. But she’s not having any of it.”
“Not hungry?” I ask Mackenzie.
“I… ah…” She blows out a mouthful of air. “No.”
“It’s been a long day,” I say. Oh well done, Salinger. Great repartee.
“It has,” Mac agrees. “I just want to go home.”
I shift my feet. “Actually, there was an issue I needed to discuss with you,” I say to Mackenzie. “Boring team stuff.”
“Okay,” Isabella says, shrugging as she looks at Mac. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
Then she looks at me and gives me a beaming smile. “You were good on the ice today,” she says. “You’re gonna give my dad’s team a run for their money.”
She turns around before I can say anything and pushes through the door, the cool air rushing in and making Mac shiver. I wait until it closes before I walk over to her.
“Are you okay?”
She nods. “I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”
I reach out to cup her face. Damn, I want to kiss her. She looks so vulnerable and it tugs at something inside of me.
My inner knight in fucking armor.
Instead, I incline my head and we walk up to her office. There are still a few people around because there’s so much to do before game night, and I know she doesn’t want me to show affection in public.
“Just a couple of days and this will be over,” I tell her. She smiles at that, and I do, too.
I miss taking her home every night. I miss waking up with her in the mornings.
