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“And with that, I think we need to take Harrison back to his room,” Gordon declares, standing as the others scoot the other way out of the booth, forcing Harrison out, too.
“You’re all no fun,” Harrison complains, and they lead him away. Well, that was short-lived. So much for getting in some quality time with a few players. I take a seat in the booth on the opposite side from Ian.
“So, on the record, how do you know those guys?” I ask him.
“I’m sorry, but I have no interest in being on the other side of the story.”
“Why not? You have no problem making strangers the star of yours. Like that last article, you wrote about the hockey player’s fiancée.”
His cheeks flame red and he slaps his hands down on the table, standing in one fluid motion. My heart beats quicken as he glares down at me.
“Off the record, I hated writing that trash. They gave me the picture and told me what the headline was. I didn’t take the shot, and I didn’t even research who the guy was, and trust me, it was a hard sell to my editor when he read the final copy, and I still had no name to give him. Everyone wanted to know whose ass it was threatening the NHL. Do you just generally hate gossip writers or is there something about this particular story that has you being such a dick?”
“I might know the guy,” I reply, narrowing my eyes.
“Well, you can thank him from me.”
“Seriously?”
“If it wasn’t for that story, I’d still be writing that shit. Now I get to be here, writing about sport, not just the dramas of the players’ lives.”
My heart is still racing, and I swallow down the last of my drink.
“Are you going to just stand there or were you leaving, too?” I ask.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Are you going to be a dick the rest of the night?” His lips pick up on one side and he raises his eyebrows, awaiting my reply. Suddenly, the room gets warmer.
“I’ll try not to be,” I tell him, and he sits back down.
“So, off the record. You don’t seem super excited to be on this tour.”
“You caught that, huh?”
“You didn’t hide it well. I mean your first question, geez.”
“It was a legitimate question.”
“So why don’t you like Banana Ball? You against fun?”
“No.”
“You’re a horrible dancer and so hate all things dancing?”
“Ahh no, I’m a phenomenal dancer.”
“Then what is it?”
He has to know I was on hockey before this. Maybe he’s already put two and two together and he wants me to say it so he doesn’t have to ask it outright.
“It doesn’t matter. While we’re off the record, you want to tell me how you know Benny G?”
“Want to tell me who the hot ass in that photo belongs to?”
Chapter four
