Chapter 21

Eliza

A week passes, and it’s another game, another loss. Losses on the road are hard, but this one—to our biggest rival, the Yellowknife Polar Bears—particularly stings. We should be getting used to it, though. We’re one and nine, having only one victory so far this season. The Vancouver Sun is recommending that team leadership at all levels be changed.

I thank our host in the owners’ box and head down to the locker room to wait for the all clear so I can enter. That’s usually after a short team meeting and everyone’s showers. A few of the players will meet with the press, but given our losing streak, I’m not sure many will want to talk to anyone.

Once I get downstairs, I lean against the wall and look through my text messages.

Darius: When we’re ready to pull the plug and hire a new coach, I’ve identified a candidate.

I chuckle.

Me: Hang on to that. I’m meeting with my dad tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted.

Tanya: Even Jun, who hates football, was cheering for the Tigers to pull it off. We’re so disappointed. When the team is all yours, I know you’ll fix this. Then you can do whatever you want.

Ahh. I love her. She’s so wonderful. Jun, on the other hand, sucks. He keeps playing with her and won’t get out of her life. I’m not sure what to do about that.

Me: Thanks

Mom: Don’t let the loss get you down.

I need to plan dinner with her and Steve…and I guess Antonio if he’s still in town.

Me: Thanks, Mom. I needed to hear that.

Mom: Come by when you get home and bring that handsome boyfriend of yours.

Me: We land after midnight tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

Mom: I’ll give you some time to catch up on sleep. Let’s meet at Botanist for brunch on Sunday. How does 11 sound? I can grab a reservation for four.

Me: I can be there, but Steve plays golf with his friends on Sundays.

Mom: I don’t want to wait longer than that to see you. Maybe Steve will change his mind .

“Can you believe this wait?” a woman who has appeared next to me says.

I look up at her. She’s a typical WAG—beautiful, fit, and bubbly.

I shrug. “They lost today, so I’m sure they’re not having a pleasant conversation. There’s quite a bit to discuss.”

“I bet. My friend is on the staff, though, not a player, so hopefully, it won’t be too bad for him.”

I nod and return to my phone, now looking through my email. I see several messages from agents, and my heart sinks. This is going to be a tough year to hang on to the people we need to get my goal of the Grey Cup.

The woman looks at her watch and then the door. “I only see him when he comes to Yellowknife, and occasionally when I get down to Vancouver. I know they have a flight to catch, but I’ve missed him so much.”

I look at my watch. Takeoff is in three hours, and it’s a little less than a three-hour flight home. I want dinner, and I hope I can talk Steve into grabbing some food with me away from the team.

“—I mean, as the team doctor, I’m not sure exactly why he needs to be there while the coach yells at them.”

My brows lift. “You’re waiting for the team doctor? Steve McCormick?”

She nods. “He’s so hot, and the things that man can do with his tongue…”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“I texted last week and told him I’d be here after the game.”

I nod and force myself to smile. That doesn’t mean he responded , I remind myself. Though it would certainly fit his reputation if he had. I’m strategizing on how I’m going to play this when the door opens, and Steve puts the doorstop in place to allow everyone in. He surveys the crowd, and when we lock eyes, I see panic in his gaze .

Uh-oh . My heart sinks. What have I gotten myself into?

The woman races over to him, jumps into his arms, and attaches her lips to his.

I walk right past them and into the locker room toward Coach Roy. As I look around, the place is a mess. We’re guests, and I can’t believe we don’t have better manners than this. Actually, I can. But I still don’t want to pay a cleaning fee because of their destruction.

“I’m sorry. The guys are cleaning up,” Coach Roy says as I come into sight.

“Great. They certainly need to.” I look around again, and Steve is talking to the woman, who is no longer attached to his body. The next time I look back, she’s gone, and Steve is talking to a player.

I’m angry. Whatever that was, and whether he meant it to be anything or not, it’s put this whole thing we’re doing at risk. For all his talk of wanting to help, he’s not being very smart about some things. I force myself to take a deep breath, and I survey the scene in the locker room as the players clean up and clear out for a few more minutes. Then I talk with Coach Roy to get his thoughts on what happened—he has nothing particularly insightful to offer—and finally there’s nothing left here for me to do.

Steve is watching me from across the room, and he motions for me to meet him in the corner. It’s too public to explode at him the way I’d like to, but that’s probably not the right call anyway.

“Here is my cell phone,” he says, holding it out as I approach. “I didn’t get any of Tara’s messages. She’s blocked. There is no side piece here in Yellowknife. I promise.”

I nod. “I understand that you don’t owe me anything, but you’ve said you want to do this, so I’m trusting you to help me. You know how important it is that everything appear above board, even when you’re on the road.”

“I do understand that, and it is. I swear. You can see I’ve blocked her in my phone. You’ll see that with several women. I am committed to getting you to your goal.” He finds my eyes and lowers his voice. “I made a reservation at Bullock’s Bistro. It’s a nice place, and no one else will be there from the team. Will you come?”

I sigh. I want what he says to be true—for so many reasons—and I guess I have no choice but to continue moving forward. “That’s fine.”

He nods, relief flooding his features. We make our last rounds of the locker room, ensuring that everything is in order before we head off in a rideshare to the restaurant. It’s not very far, and we’re quiet on the ride. I don’t want an audience, as I know if Charles were going to interview someone from this trip to get the inside scoop, it would be the rideshare driver. So Steve and I make polite conversation about a sprained ankle on one of the tackles and a sore finger on one of the running backs.

When we arrive at Bullock’s Bistro, we’re shown to a quiet table. After we have our drinks, we order, and once the server is out of earshot, Steve takes a deep breath. “E—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “I am well aware that you and I are not on the same page when it comes to our relationship. There’s no playbook for this, and we’re moving forward differently than I had envisioned. The green monster of jealousy reared its ugly head when that woman told me you had plans.” I take a few breaths before I continue, so I don’t cry. “I admit, you being there for me as I deal with my dad’s illness and with all this crap about the team has been both a huge help to me and made this very difficult. I don’t want feelings involved, but…"

I take another breath and steady myself. “Charles will be living in our back pocket for the foreseeable future. So, if you want out of our deal, just let me know. I’m sure I can find another way to…” The tears fall. I really have no idea what else I can do, but I don’t want to feel miserable and worry like this.

Steve pulls me in and holds me tight. “Listen, I’m so sorry this happened. I’ve seen Tara once. Since then, she’s wanted to come down to Vancouver a time or two, and I’ve always conveniently told her I wasn’t available. I blocked her number ages ago, which is why I didn’t get her text message about meeting up after the game. The commitment I’ve made to you is very important to me, and honestly, you are the only person I’m interested in regardless of that.” He pauses a moment, as if that admission surprises him too. “You are the only woman who occupies my mind, and I am not sleeping with anyone else. I promise, I’m going to continue doing whatever I can to help you, until you tell me to stop.”

Our meals arrive, and the server is quick at reading that we want to be alone.

“Thank you,” I tell Steve. “I know this is a mess. I’m a mess. I am trying so hard to distance myself, but I’m not doing a very good job.”

He smiles. “I’m in the same boat. I think of you all day, and when I’m not with you, I miss you.” He leans in and gives me a soft kiss.

When we finally start our dinners, we move back to talking about the debacle of the game.

“What happened at halftime?” I ask.

“Coach is frustrated. He had each of the assistant coaches meet with their teams—the offensive team met in the main room, the defense was in the shower room, and special teams met in one of the treatment rooms.”

“What’s the value of that? Have you ever seen that before?”

Steve shakes his head. “He’s desperate.”

“We need to figure out what’s going on. I don’t like it.”

“I think you need to be very honest with your dad.”

I nod. “Laura says every day he’s getting better. So maybe if we go tomorrow or Sunday…”

“That works. Davis and Paisley are having a group over for dinner tomorrow night. Would you like to go?”

“I’d love that. But we have to meet up with my mom soon or else she’s going to show up at your house.”

After we finish our meals, we zip to the airport and reach the plane just as the team is boarding. Before we take off, I send a text message to Charles.

Me: Would you have time to meet with me tomorrow morning? I know it’s Saturday, but I don’t want to wait.

Charles: I can meet you at Dr. McCormick’s at 9 a.m.

Nine o’clock is going to be early, but I need his help to get to the bottom of what’s going on and why.

Me: I’ll be ready with coffee.

Charles: See you in the morning.