Page 8 of Charming Crosschecks

And her hand dropped as he heard her mumble ‘I’m sorry.’ She pushed past him, heading out the door and leaving him standing there. It took him a second to realize that the team nutritionist was there, frowning at him.

“I never thought you were mean,” the man said simply. “Seeing that side of you was a first for me, and I sure didn’t like it. You don’t want her expensive holistic brownies, so be it. Your celery and carrot sticks are in the fridge – enjoy.”

Gerry winced.

“Oh – and you better hope Molly doesn’t quit because she’s not here for you, you ungrateful meathead. She’s here to make sure you guys have a goalie by the end of the season – Molly Haines is the best physical therapist in her field, but you wouldn’t think so talking to her. She’s nice, humble, and wants to please everyone— including you.”

“But…”

“Yeah, she bought the ‘Frownies’ out of her paycheck – not the team’s because you’ve been trying so hard and she saw it. Personally, I don’t know why she’s being nice to you,” and before Gerry could say anything, protest, or make a move, the door opened behind him as Batiste walked in… just in time to see the other man fling the tray of brownies in the trash.

“Eh? Que fais-tu?”Batiste railed, staring in frustration at the trash can. “I wanted one of those! Coach said they were delicious…”

“Ask the food critic!” the man snapped, leaving Gerry standing there with Batiste.

“What ‘appened?”

“They are made with beets.”

“So?”

“It’s a vegetable.”

“And cane sugar is a stick. What’s your point? It’s all in ‘ow it’s prepared – and why was I not born into this life as a raccoon?” Batiste snapped before wailing into the trash can. “You think Aimee will leave me if I dumpster-dive for one of those?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m ‘ungry,mon frere…”

“There’s celery in the fridge.”

“No calories,” Batiste said simply, shaking his head and looking once more at the overturned tray in the trash can. “I’m supposed to bump my intake by two hundred calories a day – and I could use a few of those… but not now.”

“Oh, quit pouting, you big baby. You’ll be fine.”

“Is this your fault?” Batiste seized, looking at him with a piercing squint. Without a word, Gerry fished out a brownie from the trash – flung it at the man with no warning – and left the room before he could see if Batiste caught it.

CHAPTER 4

MOLLY

Molly satin her small office, staring at the worn desk, the phone pressed against her ear as her mother’s voice murmured on the other end. Her hand trembled slightly, clutching the receiver tighter as she whispered, “I don’t know what to do, Mom…” Her voice was shaky, an emotional undercurrent bubbling just beneath the surface.

Before her mother could respond, the creak of the office door opening startled her. She looked up, her breath catching. Coach Mike stood there, a broad figure filling the doorway. His face was marked with a deep frown, a rarity on the typically composed man. He froze when their eyes met, the hesitance clear in the way he started to back out of the room, attempting to give her privacy. But it was the look in his eyes—a mix of concern and weariness—that kept her from brushing the moment aside.

That frown told her something was wrong.

“I’ll call you tonight, Mom,” she murmured hastily, cutting the call short and setting the phone down with a soft click. She straightened in her chair, forcing her voice into a semblance of normalcy. “Coach Mike? Wereyou looking for me?”

He stepped fully into the room this time, his movements deliberate. The door shut with a soft, ominous thud behind him. “I didn’t want to interrupt your call,” he began, his tone measured, though his shoulders carried the weight of something heavier. “But we need to talk.”

Molly nodded, trying to mask the growing unease clawing at her stomach. “Of course.” Beneath her desk, her foot searched for the trash can, a subconscious preparation for the nerves threatening to overwhelm her. Closed-door conversations were rarely good news. They were either about something confidential or—worse—a prelude to bad news.

“What’s going on with Thierry?” Coach Mike asked bluntly, his gaze locking on hers.

The question hit like a hammer. Molly’s mouth went dry, and her heart kicked into a frantic rhythm.No beating around the bush, huh?She swallowed hard, buying herself a moment.

“He takes everything I say as an attack,” she began cautiously, choosing her words with care. “If I said the sky was blue, he’d accuse me of calling him colorblind. I don’t know what I’ve done, but…”

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