Page 19 of Bombshells
“And flowers,” Trevi says. “Gardenia?”
“Oh God. Flowers? It’s worse than I thought,” Drake complains. “Who’s doing this to us?”
“Not gardenia,” I argue, taking a deep sniff. “Lilac?”
“Nah.” Trevi smells it again.
That’s when O’Doul walks into the locker room, catching three bare-assed men, nose to nose, sniffing a gooey liquid out of Drake’s palm. “What the fuck, boys? What is that?”
We all straighten up quickly, as if caught with something far more scandalous than bath products.
“Never mind. I don’t even want to know.” He gives us a grumpy look. “Video meeting in ten minutes.”
“But what’s with all the new stuff in the locker room?” Drake presses. He’s like a dog with a bone. “We don’t get it.”
“Hey, just ignore that stuff. Rebecca wants to provide perks for her female players—like shakes and stuff. But the salary cap rules say that she can’t give them anything unless it’s for everyone who works here.”
“Ah,” Castro says. “That makes sense. Although maxi pads in our shitter is a bridge too far.”
O’Doul shrugs. “Not my circus, not my monkeys. But you guys are my monkeys. And we need to keep our eyes on the prize, guys. There’s a video meeting for all monkeys in ten minutes.”
“Roger.” I head for the dressing room and my clothes.
Bryce Campeau is sitting on the bench poking at his phone. “Hey, thank you.”
“For what?” My mind is still on maxi pads and gardenias.
“For earlier. Going to the store for Sylvie’s things.”
“Oh. No big deal. How’s that going, anyway?” I pull on my briefs.
“The smoke detectors work, but I do not love the burglar bars.”
“No, man.” I jump into my jeans. “I mean—how is it going with her. And you.” I eye my friend, the broody Canadian. He looks uncomfortable.
“She is annoyed with me. But I can’t change the circumstances. I can’t make my life less hectic. It’s not a good time to change our relationship. I can’t give her the attention she deserves right now.”
“So you’re just going to make her wait for it?” That’s cold.
“I only want the best for her. Right now, I can’t be my best.”
“You’ll help keep her safe, but you won’t sweep her off her feet.”
“Yes.”
And I’ve got nothing.
“Will you keep an eye on her?”
“What kind of eye?” I ask, grumpy now. Keeping my eyes on her is all too easy.
“She is very sheltered. New York will be a lot for her.”
“Didn’t she play for the University of Michigan? That’s a huge school.”
“I still worry. Just watch out for her. As a favor to me.”
“Sure, man. Sure.”
