Page 118 of Conrad

“Mother. It wasn’t Conrad’s fault?—”

“Oh my,Morning Brewhas picked up the story.”

Penelope followed her mother’s gaze.No, oh?—

Of course she’d made the top headlines, a shot of her at the sheriff’s office yesterday, getting picked up by Franco, flashing onto the screen.

Her mother turned up the volume on Ian Fletcher and Britta Turnquist.

Ian had leaned into the camera, wearing a white oxford, his sleeves rolled up, sporting a tan as if he’d been south, although Penelope knew a tanning-bed job when she saw it. “Today we’re diving into a rather spicy topic from the world of sports. I’m sure many of you have seen the video that went viral yesterday—hockey star King Con confronted by a fan at a children’s charity hockey practice.”

And then the altercation played, including her jumping in to defend King Con, which, given his height and stature, felt very Minnie Mouse to his Incredible Hulk. Still, she winced when Missy went down—from this angle it clearly looked like he’d hit her.

“Oh my,” her mother said, not helping.

“Yes, that’s quite the scene, Ian,” Britta said. Blonde, skinny, wearing a slim V-necked floral dress, an outfit that matched her personality. “We talked with the fan, Steve Bouchard, who said that he’d made a couple comments to King Con about the team’s recent performance when King Con struck back. Things escalated when he accidentally spilled beer on King Con.”

“That’s not what happened,” Penelope said.

“And then it got heated when Penelope Pepper stepped in, trying to defend King Con from the irate fan,” Britta continued. “But here’s where things get even more interesting—King Con later stated to officials that he and Penelope are not dating, contrary to what everyone assumed, seeing her jump to his defense.”

Not dating?

She picked up the remote and popped up the volume.

“That’s right, Britta. King Con’s statement is that they are nothing. They know each other through EmPowerPlay, and she is not in a relationship with him, although recent social media has those two linked.” Ian gave her what looked like a shake of his head. “Let’s not forget, King Con is no stranger to being at the center of media speculation. A couple of years back, he was in the headlines for a rumored fallout with a teammate, allegedly involving another player’s girlfriend.”

“That was all misconstrued,” Penelope said softly.

“It seems that wherever King Con goes, drama tends to follow, which really paints him as something of a wild card in the sports world. His talent on the ice is undeniable, but these off-ice escapades seem to keep him in the spotlight just as much,” Britta said.

Ian. “It raises a big question about athletes and their personal lives. How much of this should affect our view of them as professionals? And where do we draw the line between their private affairs and their public personas?”

“Right?” Penelope turned to her mother. “Whose business is this anyway?”

“I think it’s ours.”

She looked up to see her father walk into the room dressed in suit pants, a shirt and tie, carrying his jacket. “Whatever the truth is about his relationships, King Con needs to manage these situations better. You can’t have beer-splashing incidents becoming the norm. It hurts ticket sales. And now we have some damage control to do.” He looked at her. “I think it’s for the best if you stay away from Conrad Kingston, Pep.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“They aren’t together, Oscar,” said her mother.

Wait—“Yes, we are.” Weren’t they?

“Not according to your social media,” her mother said. “You posted it yourself—that Conrad and you were just working together to help EmPowerPlay.”

Aw—Clarice!

“Good. Conrad is a loose cannon. I just wish I’d known about his former record before we drafted him.” He shook his head. “What a fiasco.” He walked over and kissed his wife. “Don’t wait up. It’ll be a long day.”

He patted Penelope’s arm. “Walk away. I’m sorry. I like Conrad Kingston, I do. I wanted to give him a chance. But clearly he’s only going to hurt you.”

She stared at him. “How? Conrad is . . . he’s kind and protective and sweet and?—”

“And just told the world that you’re nothing to him.” He raised an eyebrow. “You might want to realize that you’re just not that important to him.”

She stilled, and her father pecked her on the cheek, then picked up his suit jacket and walked out of the kitchen.

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