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The telethon starts off with a bang.Not that kind of bang. Unfortunately. I've had my fill of sex tapes to last me a lifetime.
Roc and Coco crack jokes, including some below-the-belt shots at Holly and Luke about their relationship and Luke's infamous pictures with puck bunnies. They obviously can't help but mention the video of Ryan and me, asking us to keep the telecast PG-13 for our viewers. Everyone laughs and then phones start ringing.
"Thank you for calling, Avery speaking," I chime into my phone when it rings for the umpteenth time.
"Hi, Ms. Avery. I'm Charlotte. How are you?" a cheery female voice sings through the phone. If I had to guess, I'd say she's still a teenager.
"Good, how are you?"
"Great! So, how does this whole thing work?"
"Well, we chat for a minute or two, and you let me know how much you'd like to donate to our charity. If you'd like to speak to one of the players, just let me know." I explain.
"Okay, cool. Am I allowed to ask you questions?" Charlotte asks.
"Sure. Most people call to talk to someone famous for a few seconds. I'm not as glamorous but if you want to talk to me, I'm happy to chat."
"Oh, that's okay. I think you're awesome. My mom and I have seen you on TV with the Northmen. I'm going to school for journalism. I want to be a sports reporter."
"That's fantastic. We need more female sports journalists," I say. "Especially in hockey."
We talk a little longer before she donates two-hundred dollars with the help of her mother's credit card, and I move on to the next call.
And so it goes for the next two hours. At the sixty-minute mark, Roc and Coco start encouraging more people to call in so we can hit our donation goal of one million dollars. We're at seven hundred thousand. Another three hundred thousand dollars in under an hour might be a stretch, but I have a feeling that the Starlings will call in at the last minute and donate whatever amount is remaining to surpass our goal.
Ryan laughs beside me, smiling into the phone. The sound makes me grin. He's in his element. Ryan loves this sort of thing. Holly and I never have to force him to participate in charity events.
"I'll try, Sammy," he chuckles and winks at me, and I swear to god, it gives me a warm shiver from head to toe. "Four goals in one game might be a stretch, but if I do it, I'll know I have you to thank for believing in me. Make sure you watch the game tomorrow. Can you put your dad back on the phone?"
I can't stop smiling as my phone rings again.
"Hello! Thank you for calling. Avery speaking."
No one answers.
"Hello?"
I'm met with silence. The call must have been dropped, so I hang up the phone. Thirty seconds later, it rings again.
"Thank you for calling The Toronto Talks Telethon. Avery speaking."
Again, no one answers. I'm starting to think my phone has gone on the fritz, but then I hear someone breathing. It's so quiet that it's almost undetectable, but it's there—the low and slow inhalation and exhalation of someone on the line.
"Hello? If you want to make a donation, you're going to have to talk into the phone."
I'm about the hang up for a second time when a familiar angry voice carries through the speaker.
"I told you, you were digging your own grave, Ms. Avery." Randy's gravelly voice sends shockwaves through my body. I immediately look around the studio, stupidly expecting to see him somewhere.
"No, I'm not there. If I were, you'd know it," he sneers. "You have a face and body for television. The camera loves you, but not as much as I love watching you squirm in your chair like a scared little girl."
"What do you want, Randy?"
I say his name loud enough that Ryan and Holly hear me. They both immediately stop what they are doing and stare. I nod, and Holly grabs her cell to text Colton. Ryan's face darkens with silent rage. No doubt he wants to grab the phone and tell Randy to fuck off and die, but I wave him off.
"What do I want?" He yells into the phone. "WHAT DO I WANT? I want you to fucking pay, you stupid little cunt. If you had just kept your mouth and legs shut, Tyra would still be a Hollywood bitch, too stupid to know how to handle her own money."
Colton arrives out of nowhere and slides into an empty seat in front of me. Holly taps my leg, showing me a piece of paper under the table with a note scrawled on it.
