AN HOUR LATER, Max and Brian appeared from the back. I didn’t get up from my seat while they signed papers at the counter. Max towered over Brian. He wore a pair of jeans and a faded, army green t-shirt. Over that, he wore a thick gray hoodie. Odd outfit for a hot date.
Max had lied. When I asked him about Katrina, he told me he would not do any distractions this year and only hours later; he was on a date with her. I couldn’t decide if I was angry or hurt.
I stood up as they walked towards me. Max wore a pissed off expression.
“What’s the damage?” I asked Brian, ignoring Max.
“Reporter is unwilling to drop the charges. We have a court date set for three weeks from now.”
“Brian, can you please email me copies of your files as soon as you get home?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
Max and I walked outside in silence. We stood outside my car.
I was so annoyed, I couldn’t even make eye contact. “Where is your vehicle?”
“At the stadium.”
“Do you want a ride?”
He nodded and then opened the door for me. We got in and the car pulled away from the curb.
“Where’s Katrina?” he broke the silence.
“I told your date to take a cab home. She also wants you to call her as soon as possible.”
Blue eyes met mine. “It wasn’t a date.”
I worked to keep my voice devoid of emotion. “I don’t care about your personal life, but I need to discuss what happened.”
“Tonight?”
I rubbed my forehead. The Wolves needed to do damage control on this, but I wasn’t sure how. “It’d help to get your side of the story.”
The rest of the drive was silent. He was unnaturally still. Aside from his hands curled into fists in his lap, he did nothing but stare out the window of the car.
We arrived at the stadium and made the silent walk up to my office.
“Want a drink?”
“Yes.”
Without asking him what he wanted, I poured us both generous portions of scotch. He stood and studied the dark stadium.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened. From the beginning.” I handed him the drink.
Silence from him.
“I need you to tell me everything, so I can help you.”
“After I saw you in the gym, I met with the media team about the gag being lifted.”
“What happened?”
“It ran late. Katrina’s assistant left and it was only Katrina and myself.”
“How late?”
“Our meeting finished around 7 PM.”
“Then what happened?”
“In celebration, she wanted to buy me dinner.”
“And you agreed?”
“I thought it would be a burger in some pub. She said she would change, and she came out wearing a dress.”
“I saw that dress.” I paused. “That was a date dress.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know.”
“But you went anyway.”
“I don’t know. I figured it was just dinner.”
“So, you were on a date.”
“No.”
“She sure seems to think different.”
He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. “Fine. It was an accidental date.”
I ignore the emotions churning in my gut. “Then what happened?”
“I offered to drive to the restaurant, but she wanted to take a cab.”
“Did you pick the restaurant?”
“She suggested it. She said she knew all the secret, great places to eat in Vancouver.”
“Then what?”
“We arrived at a restaurant and out of nowhere this reporter was in my face. Screaming shit at me. Taunting me.”
“What was he saying?”
“You saw the tape.”
I walked over to the TV and pulled up the PVR. Our office recorded and catalogued all sports channels on a nightly basis.
“This is what we saw on the news.”
Max came to stand beside me.
The film showed Max and Katrina walk up to the restaurant.
The next clip was the reporter shouting, “You owe the public answers.”
Max moved forward and shoved the reporter hard against the cameraman. You could hear Max say, “I’ll kill you.” The view of the camera went towards the sky and the film ended.
Max stared at the television. “That’s not what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“The guy was in my face and he was saying shit. They cut so much out.”
“They do that.”
“That doesn’t even show the truth.”
I debated our options. “Did you tell anyone that your media ban had ended?”
“What? No.”
“How did the reporter know that you’d be at that restaurant?”
He ran his fingers through his thick hair. “I don’t know.”
I narrowed my eyes.
His eyes widened. “Are you suggesting that Katrina had something to do with this?”
“She’s the one pushing to get you in front of a camera.”
“Fuck.”
“Max, you need to learn to control yourself around these reporters.”
“I know.”
“You say that but look at the shit storm you’re in.”
He sounded pissed. “I said I know.”
“Yet you still got into an altercation.”
“You had to be there, okay?”
“Go home. Get some sleep. Go to practice. Don’t talk to the media. Let me handle this.”
“Rory.”
“I mean it. I’ll handle all of this, but going forward, I need your compliance.”
He radiated defiance and frustration. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted to comfort him. Instead, I crossed my arms. “Do you trust me?”
“You’re the only person around here that I do trust.”
“Then let me take care of this for you.”
“Rory,” he spoke with emotion. “I’m not ready to give up hockey.”
“You won’t have to,” I made a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.
Blue eyes held mine and then he walked out.
“YOU LOOK LIKE HELL,” my dad walked into his office carrying his morning coffee.
Probably because I hadn’t left the office yet. I still wore my clothes from the night before. “I need you to see something.”
He moved to stand beside me in front of his huge 72” TV. I pressed play. It was the raw footage from the night before.
The unedited version.
The camera zoomed in on Max and Katrina getting out of the cab.
The NCR station reporter stared into the camera. “No matter what, keep filming. I’m going to get Logan to hit me.”
The cameraman spoke from behind the camera. “Gary, are you sure that’s a wise idea?”
“It’ll get me the ratings I need.”
“Well you won’t get ratings if you’re badgering him.”
“I can edit that out, plus if he hurts me, I can sue him and the Wolves.”
Gary, the reporter, walked towards Max.
“Max, what happened in Minnesota?”
Max blinked in the bright light of the camera. “I’m a Vancouver Wolf now, I prefer to focus on my future not the past.”
“Max, I heard the fight with Joseph Flanynk was over a woman.”
“No comment.”
“Max, my sources tell me that you lost your cool because one of your teammates said you couldn’t get it up for a woman.”
“No comment.”
“She said you preferred men.”
“No comment.”
“Our sources tell us that the only reason you’re here is because you’re sleeping with Mr. Ashford. They say you both prefer men.”
Dad stiffened beside me.
Max gave the camera his attention. “Mr. Ashford is one of the greatest GMs in the league. He’s happily married to his wife. Leave him out of this mess.”
“That’s not what I heard. I heard that after practice, he likes a big strong guy like you on his knees in front of him.”
Max stared at the camera. “Go ahead and badger me, but please talk about Mr. Ashford and his wife with the respect they deserve.”
“You sure seem protective of your lover, Max. Is that why you got kicked off your last team? You molested one of your own?”
“Back off,” Max growled.
“If I suck your cock, will you give me some answers?”
“No comment.”
“What happened in Minnesota? Maybe I should try to get an interview with Mr. Ashford’s daughter, Rory? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to give me some answers, or even better, get on her knees. Isn’t that how it’s done in that family?”
“Leave the Ashford family alone.” Max ground out before turning to walk away.
The reporter shouted, “You owe the public answers. I can make Rory give me the answers I need. She’s a nice tight piece of ass and I think she’d love to suck me off.”
Max turned around and shoved him hard. You could hear him say, “Touch her and I’ll kill you.”
The film ended.
I clicked the TV off. My dad rocked back on his heels. He wasn’t happy.
“Where did you get this footage?”
I took a deep breath. “I found someone who knew someone who worked at the station. I paid five thousand dollars for this footage.”
My dad’s eyes widened. “Interesting.”
“I talked to Brian, and he said that we can threaten to counter-sue to get the reporter to back off his charges.”
“Agreed. What else?”
“I think we make an official statement and post this footage up for the public.”
My dad’s eyes narrowed at me. “Why?”
“It shows Max not responding until the reporter threatened you and your family. That shows that Max is a team player and I think it’ll go a long way with the public.”
“It goes a long way with me, but I think it’d upset your mom. So, the answer is no. I want this tape buried.”
I bite back my argument. My dad was protective of my mom and he’d never budge on it. “What about Katrina?”
“You think she tipped the reporter off?”
“Don’t you?”
My dad let out a weary sigh. “Keep your eye on her.”
“I want us to reinstate Logan’s media ban and when I determine it is the right time, I want him to have a sit-down interview with a friendly reporter.”
My dad shook his head, but admiration tinged his voice. “You’re learning fast.”
“Failing pisses me off.”
My dad laughed. “Give our legal team the green light to go after that reporter and his news station. Tell them not to hold back, but I mean it. That tape stays buried.”
“Okay.” I gathered up my papers.
“Rory.”
I turned back. “Yeah?”
“Good job.”
