“Oh no!” His features formed into an expression of mock terror. “I wouldn’t want to end up in Coach’s black books.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Before she could reconsider the cold bus ride, Cahal swept up his car keys and jangled them noisily. “Coming?”
Music from a satellite radio station filled the void of silence during the short trip. As short as the ride was, it was enough time for Lila to build up a dread of seeing her boyfriend again. Without a proper explanation, the reasons for her apparent reconciliation with her husband were baffling.
The arena parking lot held few cars, allowing Cahal to ease his sports car into a space close to the entrance. This time there was no crush of reporters eager for gossip. No one from the local media was even aware of the fact that the biggest bombshell in sports celebrity news had already quietly taken place on the preceding day. She mused that perhaps after this the local sports pages would start posting reporters outside of the offices of prominent city divorce lawyers, awaiting the next hot scoop.
Lila stood by the entrance while Cahal retrieved his equipment from the trunk. The heavy bag was so much a part of his identity that she ceased to see it. In her experience, all men were hockey players and all men were untrustworthy. Except for Jack.
Jack.
“Are you okay?”
Her husband’s low question forced her to glance up to meet his eyes, shaded a dark pewter with concern. Artificial concern, Lila amended. If he cared about her, he wouldn’t have manipulated them into their present position.
“I’m fine,” she answered.
“You look pale,” he observed. “Are you sure this is the best time for this? You’ve just moved, uprooting yourself from the life you’ve known for the past twelve months. You can talk to Jarrett tomorrow or next week.”
Ignoring his perfectly reasonable suggestion, Lila pointed out, “By then the news of our reconciliation will be in all the papers in the city. I can’t let him face that without at least a warning.”
Her husband shrugged one broad shoulder. “Suit yourself.”
His tall figure disappeared into the bowels of the arena while she found her way to the bleachers where the only other occupants of the building were gathered. The group consisted of coaches and assistants, all of whom looked up curiously as she approached. One face lit up with recognition.
“Lila Wallace! What are you doing here?”
Lila smiled at the squat man, a former assistant coach from the Chicago bench. “I live in Toronto,” she replied, submitting to an awkward hug. “I could ask you the same thing, Harry.”
“I got a job up here,” Harry Cole told her. “Following your hubby. Or should I say … ”
Noting the older man’s sudden embarrassment, she figured it was as good a time as any to begin spreading the pre-approved story.
“It’s all right, Harry. Cahal and I are back together.”
The man’s smile was both relieved and knowing. “I suspected something of the kind was in the works when your husband began agitating for that trade. As far as I knew the only connection he had up here was you.”
For a moment she stared. “Both of Cahal’s parents live a few hours out of the city,” she finally managed to say.
The other man grinned. “And I’m sure he moved to Toronto to be close to his folks. Well, I’m glad it worked out, Lila. You’ve got a good man there and he deserves to be happy.”
What about what she deserved? Did she deserve to be alone and miserable, to be lied to and cheated on for years? She said nothing as Harry drew away, called to the ice by a shout.
The players were just getting warmed up, sprawled out on the ice stretching or skating in lazy circles. Usually one of the first to hit the ice, Jack hadn’t arrived yet but Cahal’s tall figure was soon conspicuous, clad in the thick protective layers essential to goaltenders.
“I knew you would have to show up eventually.”
Lila’s head turned to meet the owner of the frosty voice and was surprised to find that it belonged to Cathy Monahan.
“Hello, Cathy. What are you doing here? I thought you hated watching practice.”
The blonde woman grimaced as she plunked down in the seat beside Lila. “It’s not my first choice for entertainment but I’ve been forced to come for the past few weeks, hoping to corner some of my absentee members.”
Lila flushed as she recalled having skipped the last meeting of the Wives and Girlfriends.
“We need your help for the Christmas party,” Cathy went on, referring to the annual charitable event where fans paid dearly for the opportunity to dine with their favorite players and bid on hockey merchandise. “There’s only a month left and positions are going swiftly but you’re lucky since I saved you a good one. I heard what a great job you did in Chicago.”
The promise of a good position in the party committee sounded ominous. After only a handful of meetings, Lila knew that the other women avoided being assigned tasks by Cathy, who was noted for being difficult to please.
“I built up connections in Chicago,” Lila was forced to point out, “doing publicity and so on. It’s not the same in Toronto. You would be a far better position to do what has to be done.”
The other woman laughed as she straightened in her seat. “I don’t intend to offer you my job, dear. I’ve been organizing the Christmas party for the past three years.”
Lila turned again to watch the skaters. “Then why do you need me?”
Cathy Monahan altered her tone. “Your ideas are terrific. I heard that Chicago broke all the records for annual contributions when you organized that player bachelor auction.”
“It was good publicity,” Lila agreed, a reminiscent smile breaking across her face. “One of the players, Greg Anderson, ended up married to the woman who placed the highest bid for him. She was a surgeon at the local hospital.”
“That’s exactly the kind of buzz we need to generate,” the blonde woman enthused. “Maybe not a bachelor auction since there aren’t too many bachelors left on our team but perhaps another kind of auction. Win a day of hockey with your favorite player or dinner with your favorite star.”
Lila didn’t point out that such prizes were not altogether uncommon, which was why she had chosen the unique prize of a date with a bachelor player. A group of eager female bidders was a sight to see, with some younger members of the crowd waving stacks of their parents’ money for the chance at private time with their dream date.
“What about a pin-up calendar with the players in racy poses? It works for the firefighters. Or merchandise featuring the players at home with their families. That would be perfect for Christmas and some of the wives are very photogenic. You and Nadia, for a start.”
Cathy pulled out a small notebook and began making rapid notes. “Those are great ideas, Lila, but don’t forget yourself. I’ll bet you take good pictures and Jack would be thrilled to pose next to you. Make it official and all that.”
The other woman’s words forced Lila to swallow hard as the figures on the ice surface blurred. Thankfully, Cathy didn’t notice.
“Now, about that job I’ve got planned for you.”
The blonde woman prattled on but Lila was no longer listening.
Jack Jarrett had just taken the ice and his path took him straight to Cahal’s net. It was too far to tell what the men were saying. Other skaters came to a halt as Jack’s voice lifted above the general din and even Cathy Monahan stopped talking.
“Isn’t that your hus … uh … boyfriend?”
Lila was already skipping over the rows of benches as she scrambled down to the ice. Leaning over the boards, she had to push her head between the elbows of a pair of players who were resting and watching the situation unfold. The two men across the ice were facing off, Jack’s face bright red beneath his helmet and Cahal’s paler than normal. Even from a distance it was obvious that the defenseman was the aggressor, coming nose to nose with the taller man several times yet the goaltender backed off each time, sliding back to put a few inches between the two.
“Can Wallace fight?” One of the nearby players asked beneath his breath. “From the way he’s backing down, it doesn’t look like it.”
“Oh, he can fight,” his companion stated. “I was on the ice when he nearly took Trevor Collins’ head off. It was the final game of the series and Collins kept crowding the crease.”
“I still put my money on Jarrett.”
“I’ll take that bet.”
Gloved hands met inches from Lila’s face, sealing the wager. She wanted to yell at them to stop behaving like fools and intervene, but the players would be the first to tell her that such diplomacy wasn’t a part of their job description and in fact could hurt their reputations. The only action worse than backing down from a fight was forcing another man to back down from one.
Jerking her attention to the far ice, Lila saw the two men circling each other. Neither pair of hands were raised, yet there was anticipation in every lazy step and in the collectively held breath of all watching.
“Hey! Hey, what’s going on here?” The assistant coach’s quick stride brought him to a stop between the two men. “Wallace, you’re supposed to be practicing poke checks. Jarrett, you’re not playing tomorrow so you can get undressed and head home.”
Jack’s mouth fell open. “Wh — ”
“You heard me.” The smaller man’s voice rang out strong if a little unsteadily. “Hit the road, Jarrett. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
For a moment it looked like the defensemen would resist, his belligerent stance stiffening rather than relaxing, then he gave a shake of his head and turned away, skating off ice and lumbering toward the dressing rooms. His exit occurred in silence.
The assistant coach’s orders rang out again. “All right, Parker, you’re with me. Let’s see some speed. Ivanov, you team up with Efflin. Look alive, boys.”
Cahal skated back to his net, his color restored. He didn’t look toward Lila but she knew he had to be aware of her presence, otherwise he wouldn’t have backed away from Jack’s challenge.
Cathy Monahan appeared at her elbow. “What was that all about?”
“Beats me.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Look,” Lila said carefully, “I don’t want to discuss it, all right?”
The other woman was silent, no doubt debating the merits of probing any further but she must have sensed Lila’s willingness to walk away, for she kept quiet on the subject of the aborted fight, reverting back to the topic of the party.
Not paying any attention, Lila was wondering if she ought to keep her date with Jack or wait for her husband. After the incident on the ice, it would be a choice of which of the two men was less angry and embarrassed.
Cahal took the decision away from her by skating up to the two women at the first break in his exercises. He greeted the blonde woman with an impersonal smile after which he directed all of his comments to his wife.
“Don’t go anywhere with Jarrett tonight.”
It was pointless to ask why.
“What were the two of you saying out there?” Lila posed the question, aware that Cahal could have chosen any of those tense minutes to inform Jack of their newly reformed marital arrangement and destroy all her chances for the future.
“Nothing that you should be saying,” was his surprising answer. “I didn’t tell him about us, Lila. I know you wanted to do that.”
“I did,” she stammered, lifting disbelieving eyes to his set face. “I do!”
He flicked her cheek with an icy glove tip. “I’ve heard that before,” he said before skating back to the net.
Cathy Monahan looked dazzled. “Wow, is that your husband? I’ve never see him up close. He’s gorgeous!”
“He’s okay,” Lila said.
“Okay?” The other woman slid her a sidelong glance. “What
is
going on between the two of you?”
On the verge of giving a sharp reply, Lila belatedly remembered the role she was supposed to be playing. Lowering her eyelids, she murmured, “It’s complicated.”
Cathy frowned suddenly. “What about Jack and Victoria?”
This time Lila didn’t have to pretend confusion. “It’s difficult when other people’s feelings are involved.”
“I should say! Victoria deserves to know what Cahal’s intentions are,” the other woman claimed. “After all he did drag her here from Chicago. She thinks they’re going to get married.”
“She should think harder,” Lila said. “I mean, our divorce isn’t final as of yet.”
Cathy planted her hands against the top of the encircling boards, the back of her hands nearly white from the pressure. “Yet you became involved with Jack Jarrett.”
Biting back an angry reply, Lila stared out over the ice at the blurred figures. Her stomach was churning and her conscience wasn’t faring any better.
Cahal’s silly ruse was having unexpected results, none of them welcome.
The practice ended early on a depressed note. Cahal drove them home after first walking her conspicuously to his car, the fortuitous parking spot finding another use. By the end of the day, the entire team and their extended families would know that something was happening between the divorcing couple. But would Jack?
Back at the penthouse, she retreated to her bedroom to try Jack’s cell phone number several times, all unsuccessful. Wherever he was, he didn’t want to be reached.
Just before ten, Cahal poked his head in the door. “Dinner.”
Lila looked up from her perch atop a thickly padded trunk, one of the pieces of furniture Cahal had salvaged from their house.
“I’m not hungry.”
Pushing the door wider, he stepped into the room. “You must be, you haven’t eaten.”
Turning her face away, she insisted, “I’m not hungry and it’s too late anyway. Go ahead without me.”
“Too late?” Cahal’s deep voice lost some of its wary patience. “We always ate dinner at this time.”
“We did,” she agreed, “because this was the time you came home from evening practice and I had to be accommodating. To me, it always felt as though we were eating in the middle of the night. We used to go to bed right after.”
He moved forward on strong limbs, coming to crouch beside her makeshift window seat. “To bed,” he reminded her, “but not to sleep.”
His proximity forced her to turn her head; it was difficult to ignore him at a distance and impossible at close range. Smoke-gray eyes regarded her yet the look in them was far from calculating. That look transfixed her.