“Either him or his friend at the Seattle Times.”
The thought of a young woman like Jane getting it on with two old geezers to get a job turned Luc’s stomach. He didn’t know why it should bother him one way or the other, and with a shrug he dismissed Jane and whom she may or may not be sleeping with from his mind.
He was expecting an important call from his business manager, Howie. Howie lived in LA and sent all three of his children to boarding school in southern California. The more Luc had thought about it, the more he’d convinced himself that boarding school in California was the perfect solution for Marie. Marie had lived in southern California for most of her life. It would be like going back home for her. She’d be happier and he’d get his life back. An all-around win situation for everyone.
The Chinooks checked into the hotel by eleven, had a quick lunch, and were on the ice by two for their scheduled practice at the America West Arena. The team hadn’t lost a game in two weeks, and Luc had put up five shutouts already this season. The team hadn’t been a real threat since their former captain, John Kowalsky, retired. This year was different. This year they were hot.
By four, the Chinooks were back at the hotel and Luc rode the elevator to his room and placed a phone call to a friend. Two hours later, he stepped back off the elevator, ready to live his life while he could.
He’d first met Jenny Davis on a United flight to Denver. She’d served him a soda water and lime, a bag of nuts, and a cocktail napkin with her name and telephone number written on it. That was three years ago, and they got together when he was in Phoenix or she happened to be in Seattle. The situation was mutually satisfying. He satisfied her. She satisfied him.
Tonight he met Jenny in the lobby and together they drove to Durant’s, where Luc ate his night-before-the-game meal of lamb chops, Caesar salad, and wild rice.
After dinner, Jenny took him to her home in Scottsdale, where she fed him his dessert. She had him back at the hotel by curfew; he loved his life on the road. Walking back into the hotel, he was completely calm, relaxed, and ready to take on the Coyotes tomorrow night.
He talked for a few minutes with his teammates in the lobby bar, then made his way up to his room. His right knee bothered him a little, and he grabbed the empty ice bucket from atop the television, then walked down the hall to the ice machine. He almost turned back when he saw Jane Alcott standing in front of the vending machine feeding it change. Her hair was pulled on top of her head and fell in a tangle of loose curls. She stepped forward and pushed the button to her selection, and a bag of Peanut M &M’s dropped to the bottom of the machine.
She bent over, and that’s when he noticed her nicely rounded butt with cows on it. In fact, she had cows all over her blue flannel pajamas. The thing was one piece, and from the back looked like long Johns. She turned and he was confronted by a horror worse than those pajamas. A pair of black-rimmed glasses sat on her face. The lenses were small and square, and he supposed they were in style with militant women’s groups. They were just plain ugly.
Seeing him, her eyes widened and she sucked in a startled breath. “I thought you guys were supposed to be in bed by now,” she said.
Damn, he didn’t think a woman could look any more sexless. “What is this?” he asked and pointed the bucket at her. “The I-don’t-ever-want-to-get-laid-again look?”
She frowned. “This may shock you, but I’m here to do a job. Not to get laid.”
“Good thing.” He thought of his conversation with Sutter and wondered if she’d slept with old Virgil Duffy to get her job. He’d heard the stories of Virgil’s fondness for women young enough to be his granddaughter. In fact, when Luc had first moved to Seattle, Sutter told him that in 1998 Virgil had been set to marry a young woman, but the woman had come to her senses and had left him at the altar. Luc didn’t listen to gossip and didn’t know how much of it was true. He just couldn’t picture Virgil in the role of a hound, though. “I doubt you’ll find any action in that getup.”
Jane ripped open her bag of candy. “You don’t seem to have a problem with finding action, Lucky.” Luc didn’t like the way she said Lucky and he didn’t ask her to elaborate. She did anyway. “I saw you leave with the blonde. If I had to guess, I’d say she was a stewardess. She had that come-fly-me look about her.”
Luc moved to the ice machine and lifted the lid. “She was my cousin, twice rem
oved.” She didn’t look like she believed him, but he really didn’t care. She’d believe what she wanted and write what sold papers.
“What’s with the ice? Your knees bothering you?”
“Nope.” She was too damn smart for her own good.
“Who’s Gump Worsley?” she asked.
Gump was a hockey great who’d played more games than any goalie in history. Luc admired his record and his dedication. Years ago, he’d taken Gump’s number for luck. It was no big deal. No big secret either.
“Have you been reading up on me again?” he asked as he scooped ice with his bucket. “I’m flattered,” he said, but he didn’t bother to make it sound convincing.
“Don’t be. It’s my job.” She popped an M &M into her mouth, and when he didn’t say anything she lifted a brow. “You’re not going to answer my question?”
“Nope.” She’d soon learn that none of the guys were going to cooperate either. They’d all talked about it and come up with a plan to confuse and bug the hell out of her. Maybe get her to go home. Outside the locker room, they’d show her baby pictures and talk about anything other than what she was dying to talk about. Hockey. Inside the locker room they’d cooperate just enough to avoid a discrimination suit, but that was it. Luc didn’t think much of the scheme. Sure it would bug her, but not enough to make her go home. No, after talking to her a few times, he figured there wasn’t much that could knock Ms. Alcott off her pumps.
“Tell you what, though.” Luc shut the lid to the ice machine and said close to her ear as he walked past, “Keep digging, ‘cause that Gump thing’s a real interesting story.”
“Digging is also my job, but don’t worry, I’m not interested in your dirty little secrets,” she called after him.
Luc didn’t have any dirty secrets. Not anymore. There were parts of his personal life he’d rather not read about in the papers, though. He’d rather it wasn’t known that he had several different women friends in several different cities, although that piece of information in itself wouldn’t make banner headlines. Most people wouldn’t care. He wasn’t married and neither were his friends.
He opened the door to his room and shut himself inside. There was only one secret he didn’t want anyone to know. One secret that woke him up in a cold sweat.
Each time he played, he played with the possibility that one good hit would cripple him for life, and worse, end his career.
Luc dumped the ice into a hand towel and stripped to his white boxers. He scratched his belly, then sat on the bed with his knee elevated over a pillow, the ice packed around it.