Chapter Twenty-Seven

Charlie had spent his first full day at Carrie's doing laundry, practising driving his car and taking her out to brunch. Being out of his parents' place had lifted the dark cloud that had hung over him since he'd moved back over a month ago. He knew he couldn't live with Carrie forever, but until he could afford a place on his own, this would be perfect. But that was yesterday. Today his mood was decidedly different.

Charlie hadn't slept well. He was excited about the chance to go undercover and prove himself to Declan. He snuck out of bed, careful not to wake Carrie. Charlie took a quick shower, got dressed in the living room and wolfed down a couple of pieces of cold pizza. Then he grabbed his car and headed off to work. He'd packed all of his clean gear and a few changes of clothes in the trunk the night before.

The trip in went smoothly. The skill of driving standard was coming back to him and he made it to the office just as Gwen was unlocking the door to her café.

"The usual for you?" she asked as she made her way towards the counter.

"You bet." Charlie had a huge grin on his face.

From behind the counter Gwen said, "You seem pretty cheery this morning."

"It's a brand-new week, new adventures await," Charlie said as he propped himself on the back of a chair. "And, I moved in with a friend of mine—"

"Oh?" Gwen said, arching her eyebrows. "Do I sense a hint of romance?"

"Nothing like that," Charlie said. "Carrie and I have been friends forever."

"Well, congratulations anyway."

Gwen finished frothing the milk for his order and passed over a cup and a small bag.

Charlie took his latte and pastry and headed up to the office.

He stopped at the street-level door. His stomach was filled with butterflies. Last time he'd been undercover it hadn't gone so well. Charlie took a deep breath and walked up the stairs.

Declan was sitting at the desk in his office. He stood as Charlie entered. Rather than his usual well-fitting clothes, Declan was wearing worn jeans and a plain work shirt. Charlie, on the other hand, had dressed in a shirt, tie and his newest pair of khakis.

"Should I be more dressed like—" he said, pointing to Declan's clothing.

"No. You're perfect. You're dressed to impress, which is what you're trying to do. I, on the other hand, want to blend in."

"So, you're coming with me?" Charlie asked hopefully.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Charlie was relieved. He'd been nervous about taking this on alone.

"Here's the plan," Declan said. "Your job is to go up there and try your hardest to get on the team. You're an eager eighteen-year-old who wants nothing more than to play hockey and make it into the NHL. You've heard players on the Axemen get scouted and go up to the big leagues."

Charlie nodded then asked, "So, what's my cover name?"

"The best name ever. You'll be Charlie Watts," Declan replied with a grin.

"Well, that's no fun."

"You'll be playing yourself, only a little younger. Okay?"

"Okay," Charlie said, uncertain.

Declan moved around the desk. "You'll be fine. All you have to do is go in, do whatever you have to do to make yourself look good and try to make a good impression on Justin. If he was attracted to you outside The Greek, I bet he'll feel the same in the arena, even if he doesn't remember you from before."

Charlie frowned. "What if he does remember me?"

"You say you were there for the same reason he was—a bit of fun." Declan handed Charlie a piece of paper. "Now, I know it's not far from home, but I've booked you into a hotel. Here's your reservation."

Charlie glanced at the paper. "Do I have to stay there?"

"Yes," Declan replied. "That way you can go out with the guys after practice, stay as late as you need to and not worry about sleeping in and missing practice."

"That makes sense."

Declan continued, "I want you to listen for anything they might have to say about Justin or Ian Mann. If something comes up, don't try to remember it, just text me the details. If anybody asks, you're just texting a friend."

Charlie sank into a chair. "What if something goes wrong? I mean really wrong?" Charlie asked.

Declan knelt down beside him. "I'll be watching to make sure nothing bad happens. And if you're spooked, just text me."

"I just don't want to disappoint you."

Declan put his hand on Charlie's leg and leaned in closer. "I don't think that's possible."

Charlie stopped breathing. He wanted the moment to last forever. Declan broke his reverie when he stood and walked out into the reception area. Charlie shook his head and followed.

"So," Declan said in a matter-of-fact tone, "you've got the address of the hotel you're staying at, and you know the plan. Do you need anything else?"

"I'm good. I check into the hotel first, grab some lunch and then get to the arena by two-thirty—early enough to show I'm serious, but not too early to make me look like a pussy."

"I don't recall actually putting it that way."

"I'm channelling my inner eighteen-year-old."

Declan put his hand on Charlie's back and walked him down to the Red Beast.

"Declan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for trusting me with this."

"No problem. So, are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Charlie smiled, got into his car then burned rubber as he peeled off down the street.

* * * *

Forty-five minutes later, Charlie pulled into the Airdrie Comfort Inn just off of the highway. He was excited. This was the first time he'd been away on the road by himself.

He discovered that Declan had prepaid the room. After checking in, Charlie unpacked his suitcase and scoped out his accommodation. It was basic with a small fridge, which to Charlie's disappointment didn't contain any tiny bottles of booze.

He stopped in at the restaurant next door for a light pre-practice lunch, then headed out for his undercover mission.

When Charlie pulled into the parking lot of the Alconco Arena, he was surprised to find a dozen cars already parked there.

Shit, if I'm late…

He leapt out, pulled his hockey bag out of the trunk and ran to the front doors. He desperately searched for the change rooms.

"Hey," a voice yelled out from behind him. Charlie spun around and the momentum of the twenty-five-pound bag sent him spinning into the vending machine.

"Dude, if you're that hungry, I'll give you the money. You don't have to smash the machine."

Charlie saw a little guy, maybe five-three, at the end of the hall with his arms crossed. "The name's Todd. I'm Coach Chalmers' assistant."

"Am I late? I was told to be here for three."

"There was a last-minute time change and Coach didn't know how to reach you. Let me take you to the change room and get you settled."

Todd dropped Charlie off and showed him his locker. "Come out onto the ice when you're ready."

Charlie was annoyed with himself. Great way to make a good first impression.

Once Charlie was in full gear he made his way onto the ice surface. The team was running passing drills. Todd was talking to someone who had to be the coach. The man skated over.

"You must be Charlie. I'm Coach Chalmers."

"Hey…I'm really sorry—"

"You should've given me your number. I couldn't reach you. We got our time bumped by the arena early this morning. If you're late again, you're out."

"I'll get you my cell number once we're done here."

"Good," Chalmers said, then yelled out to the others on the ice. "Gimme focus, guys. This is Charlie Watts, who still managed to make it here from Calgary sooner than Dawes and Hedges, wherever the hell they are. Over the next few days, he'll be trying out for the team. Try not to be your typical dick-assed selves."

They laughed and skated up in a line, bumping gloved fists with Charlie. The last was Justin Neves, who locked eyes with him and gave him a big smile.

"Okay, Watts. Let's see what you can do," Chalmers said.

Whatever awkwardness Charlie had been feeling disappeared once he started to skate. He joined in the passing drills, then a six-station on-ice course of conditioning exercises involving legs, balance, crunches, backwards dips off the net frame to strengthen the triceps, shuttle sprints and ending with push-ups—never his strong suit.

"Come on, Watts. You do push-ups like a five-year-old," the coach yelled.

Other than the push-ups, he felt he was keeping up with most of the team. Sure, a couple of the muscle-mutts had smoked him, but he wasn't worried. Speed and accuracy were his strengths and he used those skills to good advantage.

"Okay, MacGregor, you're in goal. I want you all to form a line and try to get one past him."

Charlie took the last position. He knew well enough to respect the seniority of the other players. After five attempts, he'd landed four.

At the end of the practice, Coach Chalmers called out, "Good work, guys. Let's wrap it up for the day. I'll see you back here tomorrow morning at eight sharp. Watts, come and see me."

Charlie skated up to the coach.

"Not bad, Watts. Hunt wasn't lying. You can really play. See you tomorrow."

Charlie headed for the dressing room. Most of the players had ditched their gear and were sitting around in their compression jocks and socks, cooling down and laughing about something.

"Hey, Watts, nice work out there," one of the muscle-mutts called out.

"Thanks. It was great to practice with you guys." Charlie made a decision that it was time to put his first theory to the test. "Just in case I make the team, I think you should know that I'm…gay. If that makes you uncomfortable, I can find another place to change."

He stood there waiting for a response. Several of the players looked at the ground.

The team's captain, the largest of the muscle-mutts, got up, then swaggered towards Charlie and stood in front of him. "Then I guess you won't be changing here. I doubt you'll make the team anyway. The visitors' change room is across the hall."

Charlie looked towards Justin to check out his response, but he was focused on packing up his gear.

Charlie took his stuff across the hall and changed back into his street clothes, then bagged up his gear. He decided to text Declan with a report on how things had gone as soon as he got back to the hotel.

When he headed out into the parking lot, a number of the guys were hanging around his car.

"Hey, Watts. Is this yours?"

"Yeah. It was a gift from…my folks."

"Shit. The best mine ever gave me was a new hockey bag."

"No," another yelled out, "the best you got from them was not stuffing you into a rock-filled sack and tossing you into the river!"

The crowd laughed, and the team captain said, "I've got my eye on you, Watts."

Charlie stared him down. The muscle-mutt spit at Charlie's feet and walked away as the rest of the team dispersed to their own cars.

Charlie pulled out his keys, opened the trunk then dropped in his hockey bag. When he closed the lid Justin Neves was standing beside the car.

Charlie jumped. "Shit. You scared me."

Justin smiled. "Yeah, well you scared me back there. Coming out to a room full of strangers like that… It took a lot of balls."

Justin stared at Charlie then said, "I'm gay, too."

Charlie was relieved that Justin didn't seem to recognise him from their brief encounter at The Greek. "That's cool. Does anyone else know?"

"Not really…other than you. And me."

Charlie smiled. "Can I buy you a coffee?"

"Only if you promise to drive me in this beautiful beast," he said, patting the trunk lid.

"You got a deal. Hop in."

"Sweet!"

Charlie was about to pull out of the parking lot when he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Sammy's if you want coffee."

"Or we could grab a beer. I saw a pub next to the Comfort Inn where I'm staying."

"The Comfort Inn it is!"

Charlie drove quickly back to the hotel and they made their way into the bar and sat at a booth.

Justin said, "I'll be back. I just gotta pee."

While Justin went to use the washroom, Charlie texted Declan.

Try-outs were interesting. Out for a beer with Justin. I'll see what I can find out.

Declan texted back a thumbs-up. Then he sent another text.

You really can skate. I was impressed.

You were there?

Charlie wondered where Declan was now. He looked over his shoulder. The bar windows overlooked the parking lot. Along the roadside parking spots he saw it. A white Toyota Sienna van.

Charlie's phone chirped again.

Good luck!

He turned back to catch another glimpse of Declan.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Justin asked, as he slid back into the booth.

Charlie snapped his head back around. "The beautiful view, of course."

Justin laughed. "Yeah. Airdrie—the Paris of Alberta."

The waitress came by and dropped off a couple of glasses of water. "What would you boys like?"

"An Alley Kat Pale Ale if you've got it," Justin said.

"I do, and you can have it if I can see some ID. From both of you." They both pulled out their driver's licenses. Charlie made sure that Justin couldn't see his, and prayed she didn't mention how old he was.

"And for you?" she asked Charlie.

"The same, thanks. And maybe we could get an order of nachos, if you have them."

"Nachos it is," she said, then left them in privacy.

"So," Justin asked, "what part of Calgary are you from?"

"Brentwood. In the Northwest."

Justin paused for a moment. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No," Charlie replied then took a sip of water. "I fell pretty hard for an older guy, but it hasn't worked out."

The waitress dropped off their beers, then left.

"So, how long have you been playing hockey?" Charlie asked.

"My dad had me in skates as soon as I could walk. He taught me how to play on our backyard rink and got me into Atom League when I turned nine."

Charlie smiled. "You don't sound too happy about it."

"Dad lives for hockey." Justin started to play with his cutlery. "I think he's always dreamed of having a son in the NHL. He used to tell his friends that he was raising the next Gretzky."

"No pressure there. It's gotta be tough," Charlie said.

He rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. Is your dad like that?"

"He always encouraged me, but he never pushed."

"That's probably ‘cause you've got talent."

"I wouldn't go that far," Charlie said.

"No—I watched you. You were fluid out there. Some people got it. I don't."

Charlie said, "But you're on the team. They must have seen something in you."

"What they saw was a free ventilation system for the arena. That's what my Dad does. He installed the system for free if I got a spot on the team."

"So if you don't like it, why do you keep it up?"

A fly landed on the table and Justin swatted at it.

"It's part of his dream… Just not mine."

Charlie stared at him. "And what's yours?"

"I haven't found it yet." Justin smiled sadly.

Charlie took a sip of his beer. "So, do you have anyone around here you can at least talk to? Someone gay?"

Justin let out a mocking laugh. "Around here? Not a chance."

Charlie leaned in a bit. "So…where do you go for action then? There's gotta be some horny farm boy around here you could do on the back of his tractor."

Justin had a mouthful of beer which he choked on, then it shot out through his nose. The two burst out laughing.

"I'd be happy to settle for a farm boy. I go into Calgary from time to time. Around here, the only guy that paid attention to me was the team owner."

"What? Wasn't that a bit creepy?"

"No. He's a pretty good-looking guy, for his age. Really sophisticated. At least he was."

The expression on Justin's face changed. He went silent. Charlie had the feeling that Justin had said more than he'd planned to. He stared down at the table.

"You boys want anything else right now? I'm goin' on break," the waitress said as she dropped off the plate of nachos.

"Maybe another couple of beers," Charlie replied.

"You got it," she said, then headed back to the bar. Justin and Charlie sat sipping their beers until the waitress dropped off two more bottles. Justin broke the silence.

"Can I trust you?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. Of course… Did something happen to you?"

Tears were welling up in Justin's eyes. Charlie reached over and touched Justin's hand. Justin pulled away before looking around. It was clear he was checking to see if they were alone but nobody was looking their way.

Justin started slowly. "Ian was a photographer. He said there was something special about me. He thought I'd make a great model."

"He said that to you?"

"Yeah, but he wasn't one of those guys that shoot porn. He showed me what he'd done. His pictures are all over the internet. He was like a huge fashion photographer in England. He took pictures of everybody famous like…ever hear of a guy named Bowie?"

"Yeah. My parents used to listen to him."

"He said I kinda looked like Bowie."

Charlie really looked at Justin's face for the first time. He had such delicate features. Without his masculine haircut, his face was quite androgynous.

"He told me he wanted to restart his career and had an idea for a new exhibition. He asked if I wanted to be a part of it. He wanted me to be his model. Can you imagine? Me—a model? He was the first person to see me as anything other than a future short-order cook. He said this could change my whole life—that I could be famous."

"You know, sometimes people say things just to get what they want."

"It wasn't like that, if that's what you're thinking."

"As long as he didn't make you do anything you didn't want to do," Charlie said. "I don't like the thought of someone doing that."

Justin's expression started to relax. "He never touched me other than to put on a bit of makeup to smooth out the colour of my skin. He took me to a studio in Calgary and shot a bunch of pictures. The first batch were of me in my hockey gear. Then he shot hundreds of just my face."

"How many times did you sit for him?"

"Three or four. He said when he was photographing Princess Di—yeah, I looked up the pictures on the net. He actually took pictures of a princess. He said when he was photographing her, he didn't have much time and he regretted it, because it takes longer to get to know the essence of your model… That's what he said, at least."

Justin stopped speaking for a while. He sat there with his second beer almost finished. Charlie had barely touched his first. Justin looked at his phone. "I should go. I've gotta get home for dinner." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"No," Charlie said. "This one's on me."

"Thanks."

Charlie paid the bill at the bar then walked back to the table. "Hey, I've got all your stuff in my car. Let me give you a ride home."

"You okay to drive?"

Charlie looked at his first half-finished bottle of beer and untouched second. "I'll be fine."

As they walked out to the car, Charlie asked for Justin's phone and typed in his number. "Just in case you want to talk."

Charlie drove Justin home in silence. He suspected that the house that he dropped him at wasn't where he lived. As Charlie drove away, he looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Justin walk further up the block.

After he'd dropped Justin off, Charlie texted Declan.

Justin opening up about Ian. Said he modelled for some photos for him. Seemed emotional about what happened. Gave him my number.

A few moments later a text came in from Declan.

Interesting. Be available for him if he needs you. Do you want to meet and have a talk?

Charlie responded.

No, I'm good.

Soon after a message came back.

Great. Treat yourself to a good dinner. I'll look into the photographs. Then I'll head back to the office. Talk soon.

Charlie headed back to the pub. He was on his own now.