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Then I text Elsa to tell her I miss her and that I’m looking forward to seeing her. We planned to meet in my hotel room after the game.
I meet up with Parker to do a quick interview then take a cab to head back to the hotel and wait for Elsa.
Even though we are in Boston, we still have to stay in a hotel during the games and Elsa is meeting me here.
However, I have to push myself through a ton of news people waiting for the team in the lobby. I do my best to dodge them hiding under a ball cap, but before long, somebody recognizes me, and the storm draws closer than ever.
After saying “I’m not going to retire,” three dozen times, I grow tired of the skirmish and just head into the elevator lobby in hopes of being left alone.
But that doesn’t happen.
A kid about half my age, with strawberry blond hair and thick glasses, is there with his his press badge, smiling, hopeful for the next big scoop.
“Oh, for crying out loud… What do youwant?” I spit out.
“Donovan Sondheim with the Boston Beacon!” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “I was hoping to get a few words from you, Mr. Baker.”
“Mr. Baker is my father, okay? Call me Harvey,” I beg. “So that’s your plan? Follow me into my room and hope fora few words?”
The kid looks antsy, and I just sigh and continue, “Listen, Donovan, I’ll give you a motherfucking full interview if you would be able to express in big letters thatI’m not retiringand get everyone to stop asking me and leave me alone.”
Now he lights up as if struck by lightning and nods like crazy. “Of course, Harvey! We can do anything! Man, my editor is going tolovethis!”
We get to my floor and walk out of the elevator together. Donovan waits anxiously and I just look at him.
“This is as far as we are going man. The interview will be short and sweet and take place here so you can just get right back on that elevator and go back down.”
His eyes wide, he just nods then places his backpack down on the floor then puts his phone on top of it.
“So, first things first, when did the news of these rumors first hit you?” he gets quickly to the point and whips out his notebook and pen.
I lean against the wall and think. “When was the first time I heard this bullshit? A limo driver, couple of weeks back. He was trying to confirm if I was for gambling tips.”
“U-hum,” my young friend nods. “So, it’s mostly gamblers who seem to be interested in you retiring, then?”
“Apparently,” I shrug. “I even got members of the mob on my tail trying to convince me to retire, but that’s not going to happen.”
“I see,” the kid adjusts his glasses. “Do you think you should be speaking about threats from the mob so easily like that?”
I raise an eyebrow, finding the question odd, but still reasonable. “Police have been warned and are helping. I won’t cower away from anyone!”
“Interesting,” Donovan smiles a smug and confident smile, now catching me off guard. “So, you’re not scared, huh? What about your loved ones?”
I blink, more than a lighthouse, and in blinking I get a bad feeling.
“Aren’t these questions getting too personal, Donovan?” I ask, giving him a crooked stare.
“This is a human-interest piece, Harvey. Questionsneedto be personal!” he says.
Do I sense anger in his tone?
“Alright.” I smell a rat. “Well, I’d rather not talk about my loved ones.”
“U-hum,” the rat says. “To protect them, or because you don’t know what they think?”
“Say what…?” I’m dumbfounded.
“Do you care enough about them to ask their opinion on what you should do?” he asks as one asking what I had for dinner.
