Page 9

Chapter 9

The answer to a trivia question

Jayna

I let out a relieved breath as we walked out the door of Braydon’s townhouse. First performance over.

“Did we sell it?” I asked as we shoved the now empty cooler into the back of the Uber van waiting for us. I wasn’t sure about Cooper, but I thought the Inferno had bought the dating story.

“Luke knows, right?”

I nodded. Braydon had planned to tell his parents and Luke, but swore they would be the only people. I spoke to my own parents as rarely as possible, so I wasn’t telling them. My mother would urge me to make the dating real. Part of my antipathy to dating a hockey player was because my family would be so pleased. They were all about Y chromosome hockey.

Megan slammed the back door closed. “Those guys, the ones who just got free beer and pizza? I listened, and they’re convinced. That kiss—that was the clincher. Seriously, that looked real.”

I was glad we were outside in the dark because my cheeks were hot. That kiss felt real. But Braydon was my job. He was still the guy who had to prove he wasn’t hiding some latent misogyny. And he was a hockey player. “But the rest of it—did we look like a couple?”

She grinned as she opened the side door. “If you lock lips as often as possible, then you’re golden. But you need to be a little more comfortable with each other. Less stiff.”

How was I supposed to be less stiff with someone I’d just met?

Megan shot the driver a glance, but she was getting her GPS set up and not paying us any attention. Still, she lowered her voice. “Maybe if you pretend he’s one of your old boyfriends, and act like that with him? I dunno. You did pretty good tonight for faking it with someone you’ve only known for a few hours.”

Pretty good wasn’t going to cut it though. Now that I’d committed, posted pictures with Braydon, it could endanger my non-hockey jobs if people knew we were lying to them.

Hopefully it wouldn’t affect my real job, hockey. “You guys ready for the playoffs?” I was ready for a diversion. “I might not get to many of your practices the rest of the week. Anything I do for the Blaze is supposed to come before the Bonfire.”

“We miss you, Tempo.”

Megan went on to talk about the woman who was taking my spot, right winger on the first line, and it was bittersweet. I wanted to know about my team, but it killed me to be on the sidelines. I wasn’t sure I was really part of them anymore. The PR position, only mine because I was still technically on the team, was my one solid connection.

At least this insanity with Braydon Mitchell was funding some additional therapy on my knee. It would all be worth it to get back on the ice this fall as a player.

* * *

I watched the tail end of the Blaze practice while I waited to prepare for the presser with Braydon.

Petrov was on limited movement for another day, as I’d already posted, so Braydon was getting a lot more attention. His teammates were treating him well, but Coach Salo, the goalie coach, was pushing him hard. It would be challenging for a coach to lose one of his goalies at this point in the season. Thank goodness Petey would be back on full workout tomorrow.

I texted Braydon that I was here and would meet him in the media room, and headed over. The Blaze preferred to do media here at their practice rink on non-game days. We had about an hour before the press conference, so I hoped he wouldn’t be too long cooling down and showering.

I sat in one of the hot seats at the front of the room with my laptop, scanning through posts, checking the comments, deleting some and occasionally blocking a poster. People were comfortable saying anything behind a screen name. I was finally able to do some work for the Bonfire accounts, and again, there were assholes, but this was the part I really loved.

“Jayna?”

I shook my head and looked up. Braydon was standing in the doorway, eyeing the table nervously, wearing Blaze practice gear, hair damp from his shower. I checked the time—we had about twenty-five minutes now before we let in the press.

I’d met with Kira and her boss before I’d gone to practice, the two of them debating whether I should be dressed in a skirt and pastel top to look more “dateable.” I’d worn dress pants, black since that was one of the team colors—the Blaze, Inferno and Bonfire shared the same black/yellow/red color scheme—and a Bonfire long-sleeved T-shirt. I was a player, damn it. I’d exaggerated how gross my knee was to prove to them that a skirt wasn’t a good choice, unless it was floor length, and that was getting into sister wives’ territory.

They’d had a stylist work on my hair, and I’d put on makeup just so they didn’t bring someone in for that. I hated the inference that I wasn’t enough on my own to be considered a dating prospect for this rookie. When I was playing hockey it didn’t matter what I looked like, since I was hidden under a helmet and pads. All that mattered was what I could do, and I could do a lot with a puck and a stick.

I waved Braydon in. “Come on, we don’t have a lot of time.”

He rubbed the back of his neck then crossed to drop into a chair beside me. The seats had mic stands in front, already set up.

Braydon rubbed his hands on his sweats.

“You’ve done this before, right?” The Inferno had press conferences with the players.

He nodded, jerkily. “Just not when I’ve gone viral for a stupid rant and started a fake relationship to cover it up.”

“Let’s take this one step at a time. First, the Director of Player Personnel gives the news about De Vries. He’ll take some questions about that, ask for privacy for the family, blah, blah, blah.”

“Where will I be?”

“We’ll keep you back there, behind the curtain, until they announce you’re taking De Vries’s place. Then you’ll come out and sit here.” I pointed to where a card had Mitchell written on it. “You’ll be introduced, and that’s when you give your apology.”

He nodded. “Do I read something, or am I allowed to make it up myself?”

I stared at him.

“Right. I’m not allowed to speak without a script.”

I nodded and passed him a paper with the agreed-upon apology. Sorry, out of context, not true feelings, sorry again. “Practice reading it a few times, and sound sincere. If anything rings really false, I can adjust it.”

He looked it over. “I can do this. It’s good.”

It was. It was mostly my work.

“What about when they ask questions?”

“We have a few to practice. Did you know Faith before the game?”

He shook his head.

“Words are better. You never met her before the game last night, and she did a great job.”

He nodded slowly.

“If you didn’t know Faith, why did you say those things in the video?”

“That was related to something personal, and not about Faith.”

I smiled at him. “That’s good. They’ll come at that one a few different ways, but you can keep repeating that it’s something personal, and not Faith’s fault.”

“Right. What about when they ask what the personal thing is?”

I lifted a finger. “You aren’t going to share that, because it’s private.”

“But shouldn’t I say it’s about you?”

I shook my head. “There’s been a lot of response to the photos I posted last night. We wait till they bring up my name, and that’s when I come out.”

Relief washed over his face. “You’ll be here?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Now, when they ask about Faith starting, you have to support it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He really didn’t. All this—the big effort to clean up his image—was because he was a hockey player. A male hockey player. The focus was on making Braydon look good. No one was setting up a fake dating act to help Faith. Hockey was his dream, and he was going to make a shit ton of money, play in packed arenas, get endorsement deals—because he had a dick. If he had a vagina, he’d have to work another job to support playing hockey, even professional women’s hockey. He’d play in partly filled arenas and be ignored between Olympics.

“Braydon.”

He looked up at me.

“I understand why you were pissed that your big debut was overshadowed by Faith starting the third period of your first game.” He opened his mouth but I kept going. “I know, you’d just found out about Frank, and that affected what you said and did on the video. But admit it, you were pissed. It was your first game, and someone else took all the attention from you. If you hadn’t been, if you’d played the whole game and Faith had stayed on the bench, you wouldn’t have gone off like that.”

He slumped in his chair. “You’re right. Part of me was upset about her getting all that attention. Does it make it any better that I’d have been pissed if it had been Reimer’s kid taking that last period?”

Mike Reimer was the goalie who’d taken the Blaze to the Cup. He had a kid, but that child wouldn’t be old enough to play anything but peewee yet. And yeah, that would have brought in a shit ton of attention. At least Braydon admitted it.

“Yeah, it was your debut. It’ll never happen again, and it will always be the game when a woman played. That’s how people are going to remember it. Faith stepped on your moment.”

He sighed.

“But you’re going to have other moments. Your playoff start. When you get a one-way contract and stay in the NHL. Your first million-dollar contract. Your stats are going to be tabulated, and you’ll get endorsements and fans. Your jersey will be in the stores, and you’ll see people wearing it.”

He’d sat up now. “Yeah, but?—”

I held up my hand. “That night? That’s all Faith gets.” I paused.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“No NHL teams are going to sign her. The Blaze aren’t going to bring her on, even if something happens to Petrov as well. She’s going to have to rely on her husband to help pay for the place she lives and her daughter’s college fund because as good as she is, she makes peanuts playing hockey. No one is going to argue over her stats and debate if she’s overpaid. She’s going to fade back into women’s hockey obscurity, and you’re going to be someone people know. That was her moment. From now on, she’s just the answer to a trivia question.”

Braydon looked like he’d been hit on the head with a two-by-four. “But you guys are paid to play, right?”

I nodded. “If you want to call it that. We all have a second job—mine is working PR for the teams here. I did publicity for the Bonfire before I was injured because you can’t live on what we get paid, especially in a city like Toronto. My job is one they keep just for one of the players, to help out.”

“I didn’t understand.”

I told him the average salary for a player in the NWHL. I didn’t tell him what I made— it was above average but that wasn’t the point. People didn’t understand, because women’s hockey wasn’t flashy. And mostly, it wasn’t men. Women’s sports always came in second, and women hockey players came in second. Even if they medaled and played professionally.

I needed to keep my own issues buried. Braydon wasn’t my brother, and he didn’t need to be dragged into my family’s mess, but I was more passionate about this discrepancy because of my parents. I didn’t want to ruin the game for him, I just wanted him to appreciate how lucky he was. “Well, now you know.”

He drew in a long breath. “I realize how big an asshole I was. I’m sorry. I know I keep saying that, but I didn’t get it. She must hate me.”

And they were going to meet tonight.

* * *

Braydon

My nerves were jacked up like I was about to start a game as Jayna and I got out of the Lyft outside Cooper’s building.

“I think it’s bullshit,” I repeated.

Jayna had warned me not to say anything in the vehicle. She shrugged, but she was frowning.

“They’re going to blame you for distracting me?”

When that came up at the press conference, I hadn’t understood it was putting the burden on her. I’d avoided dating to cut down on distractions for hockey, because it would distract me, not because I’d blame someone else for my lack of concentration.

“That’s how it is, Braydon.”

It still bothered me. Jayna knew better than me, better than any of those reporters, what it was like to play in high-pressure hockey games. She wouldn’t do anything that would distract me. Especially when we weren’t really dating.

“Forget the presser. We’re here now. Ready?”

I drew in a breath. I could do this. I would do this. I was part of the Blaze, and I sure as hell needed to be a team member. That meant making up for the mistake I’d made. I was going to meet my half-sister. Well, properly meet. I could barely remember the quick intro we’d had at the game.

I was holding a couple of gift bags with bottles in them—wine for our host, Cooper, and champagne for Faith, as an overdue congratulatory apology. I wore jeans with a button-down, and a leather jacket on top. It was still cold, Toronto in March, but I worked on ice. I was used to it.

Jayna was in jeans too, with tousled hair and makeup on. She looked good, less the professional badass and more like, well, a girlfriend. She was still carrying a cane and leaning on it, but I didn’t know what injuries were under those jeans. She hadn’t shared, and I didn’t have the right to ask. I had enough to worry about trying to keep the details of our supposed relationship in my head.

“Braydon?” Jayna cocked her head, eyes narrowed. She was wearing a puffy coat with a red scarf and her cheeks were pink.

Something tightened inside my chest. “Yeah. Ready as I’m going to be.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think,” she muttered before pushing the door open into the lobby.

A woman in a uniform sat behind a desk. Jayna crossed over, as confident as if she’d been here before. I tagged behind like a lost puppy.

“Penthouse. Jayna Templin and Braydon Mitchell.”

The woman nodded, typed in something and then waved us to an elevator, the doors opening for us. They slid closed once we were inside the car, and Jayna hit the button labeled P .

“Penthouse?”

Jayna rolled her eyes. “Would you expect anything else?”

“A mansion somewhere?”

“Maybe if and when he gets serious about someone. But while he’s single and enjoying it…”

At the top, the doors slid open, and we were in Cooper’s hallway. No entrance doors, because there was nothing else on this floor, like something out of a movie. The ceilings were high, everything coordinated in cool neutral colors that couldn’t be more different than the place I’d grown up. We heard the sounds of people from around a corner, where a gray wall separated the rest of the condo from this…lobby? Foyer? Cooper came around the corner in fitted black dress pants and a blue sweater in some soft-looking material that made him look like the billionaire from the movie this condo fit in.

Career goals right here.

“Tempo, Mitch, come on in. Drop your coats over there.” He indicated a bench, covered in jackets.

I turned to help Jayna but she had already shrugged hers off. I struggled out of my jacket and added it to the pile. I picked up one gift bag, the one with some red wine that cost more than my monthly beer budget.

Cooper’s brows raised as he took it from me. He pulled the bottle out. “Nice job, Mitch. Consider me impressed.”

Jayna moved beside me, and right , I had a role to play, I wrapped an arm around her waist, and this close I could smell the apple of her shampoo. “Jayna said you liked wine.”

Cooper nodded. “Tempo was right.”

He turned and led the way. I followed. Jayna let my arm fall from her waist but slid her hand into mine. Her hand was smaller, but strong, with calluses that rubbed on my skin. Somehow it felt right. Her other hand was on her cane, and I shortened my stride to match her pace.

Once we turned the corner, we were on the edge of a big room where people were gathered. Two steps led down into—a great room? Living room? Some huge space with a wall of windows looking over the city to the lake, big couches, and a gas fireplace, currently on. Everything in matching colors, gray with bits of red and yellow. Black leather furniture, like Cooper had designed his place around the Blaze colors.

Maybe he had.

There were about ten people, all turned to see who’d arrived. I recognized some guys from the team. The one woman was standing near the fireplace, glass in hand, talking to a man whose face was familiar. Not a teammate, but…

“I think you all know Mitch and Tempo? Or perhaps I should call them Jaydon. Braydon Mitchell, our new backup, and Jayna Templin of the Bonfire,” Cooper said. I swore I heard Jayna growl beside me. “You’ve met Dev, of course.” Faith stared at me, face carefully expressionless. “And her husband, Seb Hunter.”

Right, that’s where I knew him from. Former Blaze defenseman. He’d retired about the time I joined the Inferno.

Cooper continued. “The rest of these guys are your teammates, but you might not have them all straightened out yet. Josh Middleton, left winger, known as Ducky. Ivan Petrov, the guy you’ll be backing up.”

Petrov I’d seen at the rink during practice, but not on the ice.

“Justin Johnson, JJ, defense. Phin Collins, center. We call him Bongo. Cliff Royston, known as Royster, and Brian Barnes, creatively known as Barnes, both wingers. And finally, Crash, defense, given name Corwin Cashman.”

“Dude, I’ve told you to stop with the Corwin shit. Just Crash. Hey, Mitch. Nice to have you with us. Ignore Petrov—he always looks like he hates everything.”

I hadn’t had much interaction with these men at practice. Salo, the goalie coach, had spent the whole time with me, since it was his first chance to coach me. With the upcoming press conference, I hadn’t been thinking much about the rest of my team.

“I do not hate good things,” the tall, dark and broody-looking Russian objected.

“You hate video games. And most movies.”

“They are not good.”

It sounded like a familiar argument. But I wasn’t just here to meet some of my new teammates. Cooper had given me a chance to recover from my misstep. I gripped Jayna’s hand and stepped down to meet Faith. I held out the second bag, the one with the champagne, toward her. She flicked a glance at the bag but didn’t reach for it.

“Congratulations, Ms. Devereaux.” Jayna told me that Faith had kept her name when she married, since it was the name she played under.

Seb Hunter stepped closer to his wife. He was about six feet tall, with brown hair and eyes. Faith stood only a bit shorter. “Sure you mean that?”

“Yes, I do. I apologize for the ass I made of myself on video that night. It was uncalled for. I had some personal issues going on, but that’s no excuse for what I said.”

“Personal issues, eh?” Faith looked from me to Jayna. “I hope your personal issues gave you shit for that.”

“You know it,” Jayna answered.

This was the first time I’d seen Faith in person since I learned she was my sister and I couldn’t help staring, looking for similarities between us. We were both tall and blond with blue eyes. My nose had a bend from a puck I’d taken to the face, but Faith’s looked like mine used to. Now that I knew, it seemed glaringly obvious that we were related. Could anyone else see it?

“So, you and this guy.” Faith finally took the bag I was holding out but didn’t smile.

I was still persona non grata, which was fair. A private apology and a bottle of champagne didn’t cost much. She was examining me, much like I was her, while she spoke to Jayna.

“Surprised?” Jayna asked.

“Of course I am. You swore you’d never go out with a hockey player.”

My head swiveled toward Jayna. She hadn’t mentioned that.

She shrugged. “Then obviously you understand why I kept it a secret.”

I made a note to ask my girlfriend for the reason dating a hockey player was going to shock her teammates. Seemed like something I should know. We needed an explanation of why she broke her rule for me.

Faith cocked her head. “You kept it very secret. How long has this been going on?”

Cooper moved over and took the bag from Faith. “I’ll put this in the fridge. But hold that thought—I want to hear the story as well.”

I shot a glance at Jayna. Cooper didn’t know, did he? We were trying to keep the circle of people aware of the fake dating small enough that the news wouldn’t spill. I’d told my parents, because they knew the real reason for my meltdown. The Blaze PR people, Luke and Megan. That was already a lot of people.

Jayna shrugged. “Not that exciting a story. We met when I had to do some promo work at the Inferno arena. We talked, and things just grew from there.”

We’d agreed on that story, but that was before I knew she didn’t date hockey players. Seemed like we should have more to it if that was the case. And that summary had been…flat. Maybe I wasn’t the one with an acting problem.

Faith wagged a finger. “Oh no, there’s got to be more. This isn’t the first guy who’s shown interest, but you’ve never had the time of day for a hockey player.”

“She didn’t know I was a hockey player when we met.” I was winging this, but hell, was this issue going to mess us up? “And when she found out, maybe I was just more persistent.” I squeezed Jayna’s hand, a little tightly, but she’d been holding out on me. As a fake boyfriend, I wasn’t entitled to know all her secrets, but anything that could blow up this scam we were pulling should have been shared with the class.

Jayna squeezed back, and then dropped her hand to move closer, wrapping her arm around my waist. I slid my own arm around her, sliding my hand into her back pocket. She tensed. I’d done that without thinking, and now my hand was on her ass and that wasn’t something we’d agreed to. Moving it would look suspicious, so I kept the hand flat, even though it was tempting to squeeze. She couldn’t object in front of everyone, but I didn’t want her to think I was getting handsy and taking advantage.

“Persistent?” Faith’s tone was skeptical.

I shrugged with my free shoulder. “When you know it’s right, you go after it.”

Faith didn’t look like she thought I was worth going after, then turned back to Jayna. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I talked to Megan, but there were issues.”

“Issues like not dating hockey players?”

Jeez, how big a deal was this hockey player thing? Because Faith wasn’t letting it go.

“Exactly. I work for the Blaze. Players aren’t supposed to get involved with staff, but obviously players can date players. I was both, so we weren’t sure what the rules would be, and we didn’t want to talk to HR until we knew this was going somewhere.”

There was a buzz, and Cooper broke in. He’d moved quickly and hadn’t missed any of the story. “Food’s here. We can continue grilling Tempo while we eat. I want to hear more about Jaydon.”