Playing to Win

by Taryn Leigh Taylor

  “What, you’re going to tell on me? Is that it, Luke? After all we’ve been through together, you’re going to end our friendship and torpedo my career over a few goals that, in the grand scheme of things, don’t even matter?”

  Luke looked at his teammate, his friend, and saw a stranger staring back at him. “You’re goddamn right I am.”

  17

  “GOOD EVENING AND welcome to the eleven o’clock sports wrap-up. I’m Corey Baniuk and I’d like to introduce you to the newest addition to our team, Holly Evans. Usually, she’ll be on the scene, covering games as they happen,” he said. “But tonight we’re happy to have her joining us in studio so that you, our viewers, can meet her properly. Holly, good to have you here.”

  “Thanks, Corey. And congratulations on your promotion.” Holly smiled big and turned to the camera. “Hi, everyone. Let’s start with hockey, where earlier tonight the captain of the Portland Storm, Luke Maguire, finally broke a nineteen-game scoreless streak with this beauty less than two minutes into their game against the Wyoming Stallions...”

  Holly did the entire segment and it was incredible. She nailed the scores, the camera changes, every word that came out of her mouth was crisp and precise. It was a triumphant moment, but not quite as triumphant as the moment that followed it.

  “Thank you, Holly. And now—”

  “Actually, Corey, I’m not quite finished.”

  She’d never seen the golden voice of sports at a loss for words. Apparently it wasn’t good for business, because the camera operators bobbled for a quick moment before every single one of them turned to focus on her.

  “When I made the Women’s Hockey Network video, I was being a smart-ass. I was frustrated that people would discount opinions on sports just because they came from a woman. So I created a satirical look at how women in the sports world are perceived.

  “Except when my video hit YouTube, it went viral. The Portland Storm hired me for their play-off run, and everything changed. The Women’s Hockey Network grew into something unstoppable, and I was just along for the ride. For a while, I thought I was making mockery of everything I loved. Then I heard from you, the people watching, and I realized that together, we had something special.

  “I want to thank everyone at this station and you, the viewers, for welcoming me with open arms. This job was a childhood dream come true and I will remember this night for the rest of my life. But my priorities have changed, which is why tonight will be my only show with News Now. Effective immediately, I’m tendering my resignation.

  “But if you liked the Women’s Hockey Network, then I invite you to join me on XT Satellite Radio, where I will be hosting The Women’s Sport Network every weekday from one to three on Sports Talk Radio. It’s going to be a show where women can congregate and talk about sports. Where we can teach what we know, or learn what we need to know.”

  Holly could feel her smile warming as she spoke. “It’s going to be real women asking real questions. If you don’t understand the rules of the game, ask me. If you don’t understand why the GM of your home team isn’t moving on signing that free agent who lit up the field last year, we’ll discuss it. And if you want to hear what cologne your favorite player wears, I’ll find out for you.

  “Because there are no stupid questions. I want to help every woman, every person, find the part of the game that appeals to him or her, because when it comes right down to it, sports are about having a good time. I lost sight of that for a while, but I finally found it again. And now I want to share it with you.” Holly tucked her hair behind her right ear. “I’m Holly Evans, for Portland News Now. Thank you and good night.”

  Holly strode out of the studio without a single doubt that she’d made her mother proud. It was a great feeling, one she reveled in all the way to the lobby, until she glanced over at the security station and noticed a certain hockey highlight. She beelined toward the desk.

  “Can you rewind that?” she asked.

  The security guard grabbed a remote off the desk and turned to the monitor.

  “Thanks, just run it back to the last goal that Wisconsin scored on the Storm. Yes. There.”

  Her skin prickled as she watched Keith Johnson walk in and score a top-shelf backhand on J.C. LaCroix, who was sprawled across the crease.

  “Son of a—”

  It all made sense now. The awful goal, the lackluster baby announcement, the vehicle downgrade and the purse-wielding psycho fiancée.

  It had been J.C. she’d heard in the bathroom that day. He was the mole. She had to tell Luke! And if he wouldn’t listen, well, she’d make him listen.

  She’d just pulled out of the parking lot, formulating a plan to get Luke to let her explain herself when the radio announcer’s voice penetrated her single focus.

  “And we take you now live to a surprise press conference involving key members of the Portland Storm. We’ve confirmed that Captain Luke Maguire, Coach Randy Taggert and GM Ron Lougheed are all present, as is League Commissioner Grant McDavid. McDavid was seen during tonight’s game sitting with former Blades centerman and national hero Ethan Maguire. Needless to say, the sports community is buzzing with speculation over what the big announcement is. We now go live to the Portland Dome.”

  Ethan had shown up?

  Her grip tightened on the steering wheel, and she changed her course from Luke’s apartment to the arena.But what could they possibly be talking about at a press conference? The post-game interviews had ended hours ago.

  Holly shook her head. The biggest damn story of the day was unfolding while she’d been looking pretty on TV. And instead of sending her or Corey Baniuk, Portland News Now had probably sent some intern to cover it. Thank the hockey gods she’d quit.

  “Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight. I’m afraid we’re here with bad news.”

  Her stomach flipped at the sound of Luke’s deep voice filling the airwaves.

  “As the captain of this team, I would like to begin by saying the Storm organization has always prided itself on stressing the importance of sportsmanship and integrity. However, thanks to some incredible undercover work by sports reporter Holly Evans, it has recently come to my attention that there is an individual on this team who has not been living up to the code that we, the Portland Storm, have sought to play by.

  “This individual has been involved in betting, and when his debt got too big, he agreed to manipulate game results during our play-off run. As the captain of a phenomenal team, I have spoken with my teammates and we have decided, after consulting with the league, to withdraw from this year’s play-off run and wish the Wyoming Stallions the best of luck as they take on the winner of the Eastern Conference.”

  The gasps in the auditorium were audible even through the radio, and Holly sped up as she approached the turnoff that would get her closer to the Portland Dome.

  “We, as a team, in conjunction with our coach and management, feel this is the best way to keep one person’s actions from tainting the entire team.”

  He knows. Oh God. She wondered how Luke was taking the devastating betrayal of his best friend’s actions. His voice sounded even, if a little somber, but she’d need to look into his eyes to be sure.

  “And with the league’s support, we hope to earn our way back to next year’s play-offs and claim our chance to win the championship.

  “I personally would like to apologize to Holly Evans and thank her for her diligent work.”

  The car swerved a bit at that, as Holly tried to process the shock of Luke’s very public words of praise.

  “I love this game with all my heart and I could not have lived with myself if I had been part of sullying its good reputation, however unwittingly. The truth has come to light, and that’s exactly how it should be. And for that reason, effective immediately, Jean-Claude LaCroix is no longer a member of the Po
rtland Storm. Thank you. Coach Taggert will now say a few words.”

  Questions exploded throughout the press room, and Holly could hardly breathe as she pulled into the parking lot. She was relieved the attendant at the gate recognized her and let her through without a hassle, because she was having a hard time forming words.

  Luke had done the right thing even though it had cost him his dream, and she wanted to throw up for doubting his integrity for even a split second. He’d not only taken the high road and given her credit for breaking the story, he’d even thanked her publicly. And for what? For jumping to conclusions about him? She had to get in there right away.

  Holly screeched to a halt and parked in an illegal zone as close to the door as she could. She turned off the car, silencing Coach Taggert’s “weathering this adversity will only make us a stronger hockey club” speech.

  Then she ran—in heels—for the press room. By the time she got there, the league commissioner was handing down his ruling.

  A security person stopped her. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, you can’t go in there. Press only.”

  “I am press!”

  “I’ll need to see some identification.”

  Holly dug frantically through her purse until she came upon the lanyard she’d failed to return: her Women’s Hockey Network press pass. And for the first time, her wide-eyed, helmet-haired photo wasn’t an embarrassment, but a badge of honor.

  The security guard let her through.

  “Although there will be a further investigation by the league, the fact that the Portland Storm brought this breach of ethics to our attention immediately upon learning of it will go a long way in expediting the process. Mr. LaCroix has admitted to being the sole perpetrator and has been banned from the league indefinitely. At this time, we will be taking questions.”

  The room was a roar of sound as the scrum exploded with queries.

  “One at a time, and please use the microphone.”

  As she approached the front of the room, the interrogation quieted, replaced with whispers as the gathered reporters began to recognize her.

  She stopped in front of the microphone and Taggert nodded at her to proceed. “Holly Evans, from the Women’s Sports Network. My question is for Luke Maguire.”

  The way he was looking at her broke her heart, part hopeful, part wary. It took everything she had to keep herself from running up on that stage and pulling him into her arms so she could apologize.

  “Luke, I was just wondering, do you think there’s any chance that you can forgive me? Because if you love me even half as much as I love you, then I think we could be a great team.”

  There was a long, silent moment where the world went still. Seconds ticked by to the beat of the pulse echoing in her ears.

  A murmur spread through the crowd.

  “Teammates, huh?” he said.

  She nodded.

  He leaned forward to speak into his mic. “I don’t know.”

  Dread wound its way through her stomach and into her chest, squeezing her heart like a vise. She deserved this, she reminded herself. She’d known this was a possibility.

  “You think you can handle that, Evans? Because if we do this again, I’m going to need you in it for the long haul, a hundred percent commitment. Eye on the prize.”

  Holly bit her lip as Luke got up from the table and pushed his way past the rest of the panel members. With every step that brought him closer, hope bubbled in her chest like a lava lamp. She was nodding before he even reached her. “I believe I can manage that, yes.”

  “I hope so, because I love you, too.” When he pulled her into his arms, his kiss was everything—an apology, a declaration, a promise. Holly wound her arms around his neck, relief and love pounding through her veins in equal measure.

  The room erupted in applause and camera flashes. But all that mattered to her was the man who held her in his arms. She was never going to let him go again.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered.

  Luke smiled and it made her heart flutter. “Not possible.”

  “How do you figure?” she asked.

  “You ever heard people say that love is a game?”

  She nodded.

  “When I play, I play to win. And just for the record, I expect my teammate to do the same.”

  Holly grinned and grabbed him by the tie. “Aye aye, captain,” she said and sealed her promise with a kiss.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HER SEXY VEGAS COWBOY by Ali Olson.

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  Her Sexy Vegas Cowboy

  by Ali Olson

  1

  JESSICA GAINEY LEANED against the window of the airplane, watching the ground as they slowly descended into Las Vegas. She’d been to the city before, but had never flown over it at night, when Vegas was a bright spot of lights and civilization surrounded on all sides by a sea of blackness. On every side, the desert hemmed in the oasis of streetlights and hotels.

  Along the famous Strip, Las Vegas Boulevard, she recognized some of the big casinos and icons like the Stratosphere and Luxor pyramid with its bright light shooting up into space and wondered at the changes in the constantly shifting city. There was a huge Ferris wheel lit up in bright colors. Since when did Vegas have a Ferris wheel?

  As she continued to soak up the sight of the bright city, the plane touched down at McCarran Airport, which seemed to be right in the middle of it all. She settled back into her seat for the slow taxi to the terminal, closing her eyes and enjoying the last few moments before the insanity would begin.

  The flight had been relatively quiet, since she’d purchased a coach ticket despite Cindy’s willingness to pay the extra costs so she could sit in first class with the rest of the party. It had actually been a perfect time for her to get a little work done before the long weekend, which she was fairly sure would include out-of-control partying by the large group of former sorority sisters currently sitting together in the front of the plane. She was already exhausted at the idea and nothing had happened yet.

  She pushed her worries away, turned on her phone’s Wi-Fi, and quickly scanned her emails and texts. She knew there would be no messages from Russ, but she still hadn’t broken the habit of looking for them. When they were together, he’d always write little love notes to her while she was flying, making her phone ping with joy when she turned it on after landing. It had been such a sweet gesture and she hadn’t flown enough since then to adjust to its absence.

  Those messages had caused the ending of their relationship, but she definitely didn’t want to think about that. She’d spent enough time in the past few months reliving the moment when she opened his phone to see the exact wording of a recent text from Russ that she’d accidentally deleted, only to find messages to other women alongside hers.

  Jessica breathed in deeply and tried to let go of those negative thoughts, but the memories of that day were still impossible to banish completely. The best she could do was ignore them and focus on more important things. The texts on her phone were all from her family now.

  Her mom saying, “Your dad will be fine. Have fun!”

  Her sister telling her,
“Relax. I know you freak out. Don’t freak out.”

  And finally one from her father. “Love you, Jess. Do something crazy for a change!”

  As if that would happen.

  She’d told herself to relax, make this a fun weekend, hundreds of times throughout the flight, but nothing would ever completely stop her anxiety. She always felt as though disaster would occur the minute she left the state.

  This weekend was for Cindy, not her, and Cindy had done enough for her that she wasn’t about to ruin this trip with all her negative thoughts. If Cindy hadn’t taken her in and given her a place to stay, who knew where she would have lived the past three months? So here she was, in Las Vegas for her best friend’s party, and she would try to enjoy it even if it killed her.

  When the seat belt light turned off, Jessica grabbed her purse from beneath the seat, shoved herself into the crush of passengers waiting to get off and pulled down her carry-on bag. She could pretend to be a party girl for a few days and take a break from real life. She’d try, at least.

  In the terminal, it was easy to find Cindy, since she was the only one surrounded by a small crowd of women in their midtwenties, all of whom were giggling like teenagers as they plastered Cindy with bachelorette paraphernalia, including a plastic tiara and a sash, all pink and covered in rhinestones.

  Cindy smiled and struck a pose, the rhinestones catching the light. “How do I look?”

  Jessica gave her a quick appraisal. “It’s bachelorette-party chic, all right. You look like a woman who’s going to be given a lot of free drinks.”

  Cindy looked ecstatic. “Perfect! Then let’s get going!”

  One woman in the party, a raven-haired beauty whose name Jessica couldn’t for the life of her remember, piped up. “Before we hit baggage claim, I want to stop at the bathroom and fix my makeup. I’m sure I look awful.”