Page 91 of Fair Play
“He’ll know.”
“What are you going to do?”
I hesitate. “Nothing. I’m not going to blow things up during the playoffs if I can help it. If Stevie was looking and she had to dig, maybe it’ll disappear. I’ve never heard of this site.”
“Me either.” He sticks his phone in his pocket. “But I thought you should have a head’s up.”
“I appreciate it.” I clap him on the shoulder and then finish stripping out of my street clothes.
Somehow, shit always hits the fan for me.
Hopefully, we’ll get through practice today and head to Vegas tomorrow with Bodi none the wiser.
Gametwo in Vegas is electric. The crowd is loud and excited, and even though we have pretty good representation since L.A. is close enough for lots of our fans to attend, it’s not the same as being on home ice. Their record was slightly better than ours so they have home ice advantage, and this is one of the drawbacks.
We’re prepared, though, and somehow manage to eke out wins for games one and two, so we’re in high spirits when we get back to the locker room. A bunch of reporters fill the room, swarming Coach Vanek as well as Gabe, who broke the recordfor playoff wins by a goalie with tonight’s win. I had two assists so I’m feeling pretty proud of myself too. Sometimes the puck just hits your stick and you’re in the perfect position to either shoot or pass—and tonight I did a lot of both.
“Cassie.” A reporter I know from one of the bigger networks approaches with an outstretched hand.
“Hey, Clark.” I shake it and nod.
“You were hot tonight. Nothing like finding your second wind at the end of your career, eh?”
Fuck him.
I manage to smile through my annoyance. “I’m just getting started,” I say.
“Anything to do with the new girlfriend?”
My eyes narrow slightly.
If I deny it, and he saw the pictures from San Diego, it could blow up. But if I play it cool, and keep him happy, maybe he’ll go the fuck away before anyone hears him. He’s not even recording, so I opt to play it cool.
“A good woman is always a bonus,” is all I say.
“Who is she? No one seems to know her name.”
“And no one will until I’m good and ready. Good to see you, man.” I turn and head for the showers. The sooner I get the hell out of the spotlight, the better.
I take a quick shower and make my way to the dressing room, pulling on my suit. Even though we’re going right to the hotel, we’re still expected to wear suits when we arrive and leave the arena. It’s a bit of an antiquated rule, one that’s rumored to be on the chopping block, but until then we have to do it.
Pulling out my phone, I send Billie a quick text to let her know I’ll be back at the hotel soon. She’s not here because we couldn’t figure out a way to make it happen. She could certainly room with me—lots of the wives and girlfriends come to theaway games—but there would be no way to hide her presence from Bodi. It isn’t ideal but she opted to stay in L.A.
“Castellano—where the fuck are you?!”
Uh oh.
That’s Bodi’s voice.
I turn, bracing myself because I’m positive the cat’s out of the bag.
“What the fuck is this?” He thrusts his phone at me.
I don’t have to look at the screen to know what he saw, so I just stand there, waiting for the inevitable explosion, hoping against hope he’ll remember where we are and what we’re dealing with.
“I asked you a question,” he snarls.
“You asked me what this—” I motion to his phone. “—is. I figured it was rhetorical.”
