Page 35 of Grumpy Puck

Michael doesn’t reply, but his expression makes Linda take a step back.

“Mr.Ironside—the team owner—is willing to give both of you a bonus for the inconvenience,” she says in a loud whisper.“Twenty percent of your annual salaries.”She faces Michael.“He also said he would donate a hundred times that to your?—”

“Deal,” Michael growls and turns to me.“I will, of course, be a perfect gentleman."

“Fine,” I say, probably because my brain is still on the fritz.“I’ll do it.”That money will go a long way toward my rat show dream.

As Linda runs away, I narrow my eyes at Michael.“What’s he donating money toward?”

“I have to change,” he says, ignoring my question.“Where do you want to meet so we can exit together?”

“By the front doors?”

With a nod, he strides away.

I turn to Coach.“Do you know what the money is for?”

“I do,” Coach says.“But it’s Michael’s secret project, so you’ll have to get him to tell you.Sorry.”

Secret project?“Does he run a bear preservation society?”That’s something a rich guy might want to donate money to.

Coach shakes his head.“Please don’t put me in this position.”

“Fine.I guess I’ll go change.”

Coach looks relieved, which is why I don’t offer him my second guess: a high-tech facility where toys, porn, and zebras are cleverly utilized to encourage giant pandas to mate.

Chapter11

Michael

“You okay?”Dante asks me when I storm into the locker room.

I slam my locker door, hard.“Those fucking fucks want me and Calliope to stay in the same hotel room in New York.”

Dante snorts.“You and the girl you like spending a night together.The horror.”

I whirl on him.“Don’t fucking test me.On top of that, fucking Linda almost told Calliope about my secret project.”

He shrugs.“Would it be so bad if she knew?She might actually like you more.”

“Fuck.”I rip off my jersey.

“She may do that too, if she knew about?—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss at Dante because Jack comes out of the showers—and he’s not in on my secret, and never will be.

“She could even help,” Dante says vaguely.“If I were you, I’d take her to the fundraiser when?—”

“Which part of ‘shut the fuck up’ did you not get?”I growl.

Then again, his idea is worth considering.Not that she’d agree to accompany me to any events.

Changing quickly, I rush downstairs, where I wait for what seems like hours for Calliope to show up.

“Finally,” I can’t help but say when she appears.

“I could make my own way to the car,” she retorts.

---