“This younger generation needs to learn to enjoy food more, but I can get you whatever you want, hun.”
“Thank you. I was also hoping you could help me out a little.”
“Sure. Whacha need?”
“My name is Cami Avesque, but please call me Cami. I’m writing a series of articles for the Cleveland News and Journal about the growing popularity of rugby in the U.S. and your very own hometown team that has a shot at the championship. I interviewed Van Stelson this morning and I’d like to get some insight from fans outside the sports arena if possible.”
“Well I’ll be. You look too young to be a professional writer for a newspaper, or is it one of those online fancy things that most older folks don’t read?”
I liked Estella and couldn’t agree with her more. There was just something about spreading out a newspaper that would be completely lost in another decade. I grinned. “It’s a real life, honest newspaper, nothing fancy about it.”
“If you promise to send me a copy of your articles, I’ll help with anything I can.”
I was so glad I met her last night. “They’re yours.”
Estella’s face turned serious. “I don’t exactly have a job where keeping my mouth shut is an asset, but in regard to certain people I bite my tongue. This time I just can’t. You are too sweet, young, and innocent.” She continued before I could object. “You be careful around Van. That boy is bad news, so I’m giving you fair warning… keep your nickers up.”
Heat filled my cheeks.
“Exactly what I thought.” She leaned in closer. “Van is trouble and should come with a sign that reads, ‘Going straight to hell.’ Don’t get caught in his web.”
“I, um…” I wasn’t sure what to say. “Thanks for the warning,” I half squeaked.
She pulled away, giving me a satisfied nod. “Now let me get your salad order in, grab you a glass of water, unless you want some more wine, and then I’ll hustle you up some Slam fans.”
“Water, please. Thank you, Estella.”
She walked away while I looked out the window thinking about her warning. I didn’t know if Van was going straight to hell, but he knew exactly what to do to get inside a girl’s panties. I had to find a way to resist his hot body and smooth moves.
A minute later, Estella walked a middle-aged man up to the table and introduced us.
“Charlie Waters meet Cami. The two of you have a lot in common. I’ll leave you to get acquainted and bring back your usual,” she said to Charlie as she walked away.
He sat down opposite me and gave me a large toothy grin. “I own the Colt Sentinel, and Estella tells me you work for a large paper out of Cleveland.”
“Yes, Cami Avesque., I’m with the Cleveland News and Journal.” I put my hand out across the table. Charlie had to be in his sixties, and he reminded me of my father, which put me at ease instantly.
“And our local scrum is bringing you way out here?”
From my internet searches I knew what scrum meant, but he could easily throw out something I didn’t know. He deserved my honesty. “I was assigned here after one of our sports reporters took maternity leave. I work in classifieds, but have dreams of breaking a big story someday. I’m not exactly sure why I was the best fit for this series because sports aren’t my thing, but I’ll try hard to do a good job. I need to get a feel for the game, players, and fans. I take it you’re a fan?” I know I rushed the words, but it was one of the longest statements I’d made in my short journalist career.
He gave me a large genuine smile. “I played my first match when I was twelve and never looked back. Rugby gets in your blood, melds with your cells, and doesn’t let go.”
I reached in my bag, pulled out my recorder, and turned it on. “I interviewed Van Stelson earlier and he said the same thing about it getting in your blood. I’ll be completely honest… I’ve never seen a game and all I know is what I’ve learned from the internet. I plan on bringing the newbie perspective to my series of articles and show readers the ins and outs of the sport along with its growing popularity.”
“Well then I’ll start with a minor correction. In rugby you play a match not a game.” He smiled again with the gentle admonishment. “If you’ve met Van, you’ve talked to one of the best players in the league. Only his brother is a rival for the title. Those boys have shed more blood on that field than anyone I’ve seen play. If you’re coming to the match on Saturday, you’re in for a real treat.”
“I’ll be there. I’m assigned to the team as long as they stay in the running for the championship.”
“That’s the next three matches. If we can’t turn you into a fan by then, I’ll eat my match hat. I would suggest you come in here before the match and talk to some of the townspeople. It’ll be quite eye-opening.”
“Estella says it gets crowded in here after the game.” I smiled, “I mean match.”
“Before and after. The fans love their beer.”
Disgust must have shown on my face because he laughed. “We’ll get you into the beer too. It’s a tradition, a pint before the game and as many as you can handle afterward.”
I remembered the wine and figured the beer couldn’t be much worse. “So tell me something about the Stelson brothers.”
Charlie’s grin widened. “Their mother’s family is from here. Tally, their mom, had dreams of making it big in Hollywood. She moved there directly out of high school and got her wish in a slightly different way than she imagined. She wound up married to Leo Stelson a year after she moved there. She had the boys a year apart and moved back here when they were little more than toddlers. She wasn’t getting along with Leo and decided to come home to raise her sons.”
“Does Tally still live here?”
I watched Charlie’s smile fade. “You never met a nicer woman or a better mother. She died in a car accident about ten years back. Real shame those boys lost her. Without Leo in town, they needed their mom’s influence.”
“How old were they when their mom died?”
“Around sixteen and seventeen I think.”
So young. “Did they go and live with their father?”
“No, though he tried persuading them to move. Couldn’t stop those boys from playing for the college team. They gave the college three championships in five years and started their league team as soon as Van graduated. Got it too and gave this town a huge boost.”
“Is Van older or younger than Joel?”
Charlie assessed me closely. “Van’s the younger brother. That boy’s always had a wild streak.” Charlie’s eyes zeroed in on me further. “Did he behave himself when you interviewed him this morning?”
Dammit, heat warmed my cheeks.
Charlie groaned slightly. “Watch that one. When the right woman comes along he’ll fall hard and settle down, but all others before her are only toys. Van always had to have the best toys and he was never very careful with them.”
“Thanks for the warning.” What else could I say? Two admonishments in less than an hour. That was glowing praise if I ever heard it. Not! I had to change the subject. “Tell me about your paper.”
He smiled again and talked about the Colt Sentinel. “I’ve owned it for a little more than thirty years.”
“You don’t look old enough,” I said in all honesty. I had Charlie pegged for mid-fifties.
“Turned sixty-four a few months ago. Bought the paper at thirty. I see some of me in you. I had big dreams—making it big overseas, writing a book or two about my adventures, winning a Pulitzer. Though I never got that far, I had some wild days until finally a good woman had me proposing and doing all the things I swore weren’t for me.” His eyes softened at the mention of his good woman. “You’ll meet Stub at the game on Saturday.”
“Stub?”
“I’ll let her tell you the story. She doesn’t like my version and I’m sure hers is actually more accurate. I’ve been embellishing it for years because it irritates the pants off her. Of course that’s my goal every time. D
on’t think it isn’t.”
My cheeks pinkened again and Charlie roared with laughter.
“Come by my office next week and I’ll introduce you to my setup. It’s nothing compared to what you’re accustomed to, but I’m proud of it.”
“Deal.”
Our lunch arrived and we continued talking. My half salad was perfect. As soon as I finished, Charlie waved his hand toward the front door.
“Sherry and John Stewart just walked in. Let me introduce you and they can tell you a bit about rugby from a fan perspective. John coaches a youth team. He and his wife are die-hard Slam fans.”
John and Sherry were wonderful and introduced me to more people who came in as the lunch rush started. When they began talking about matches they spoke a foreign language, but I managed to pick up a few things here and there. I checked my watch and it was one-thirty. Time to head back to the stadium.
I went by my room first and checked my email. I had an interesting email waiting from Skylar Larke.
Hi,
This is Skylar the bedridden momma. They told me the rugby story’s been turned over to you. Just a heads up… very strange. Me getting it in the first place was strange. I’m usually assigned to local girls’ events. I know they pulled you from classifieds, so it just makes me wonder what’s up. Not that I don’t think you can do the job, Ted raves about you. If you have any questions, I’m here in my lonely room bored to death. Don’t be a stranger.
S
I only had time for a quick response.
Skylar,
Thanks for reaching out. I’m in way over my head, but please keep that between us. I’ll write back when I have more time. I hope you’re feeling good and doing as the doctor ordered.
Cami
Chapter Seven
I grabbed my bag and ran out to my car with no time to spare. By the time I made it to the actual field, it was five minutes after two. I wasn’t quite sure where to go and stood looking around the inner stadium admiring the size. My research told me the stadium, built three years ago, held twenty-five thousand people. There was a separate college stadium on the campus that doubled as a football field and held five thousand spectators. The Slam’s single functioning stadium had one rival in the U.S.—Vegas’ Sam Boyd Stadium. That one held just under thirty-seven thousand seats.
“I’m sure Van wants you front and center.”
Having no idea anyone was behind me, I jumped. Turning quickly, I squinted into the shadowed tunnel. Joel stood two feet away. If I thought he looked large leaning against his vehicle, having him up close turned him into a giant.
Not surprising, the tone of his words and demeanor weren’t exactly friendly. It took everything I had to try breaking the ice and giving him a semi-fake grin. “I’m not quite sure where front and center is located.”
“Figures.” That was it. He jogged past me without another word.
The jerk.
I followed at a quick walk. Thankfully Van turned and waved me over to where he stood with several men that now included his brother. When I reached Van, he looped his arm around my waist and pulled me uncomfortably close.
“I’d like everyone to meet Cami. She’s the reporter doing the series on The Slam as we grind our way to the championship.”
The player closest to me on my right stuck his hand out allowing me to step away from Van’s inappropriate embrace. I had my attention on Todd as he introduced himself, but I couldn’t help noticing Joel’s glacial eyes. One by one, the players told me who they were. When it came to Joel he didn’t stick his hand out, purposely making me more uncomfortable than I already was.
After giving me a quick glance, he turned to his brother. “We need to get this practice started. Do you think with your lady friend here you’ll be able to concentrate?”
Lady friend? God he was a double jerk.
“Yeah, bro, we have hard work ahead of us and I’m not wasting time. Cami’s here to give us needed publicity, or have you forgotten?” Van turned to me. “Stand here on the sidelines and when we have a break I’ll come over and spend a few minutes explaining what’s happening.” He didn’t sound happy about his brother’s rudeness.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” For once I was happy with Van’s attitude, but only for a second. Everyone but Van started walking out to centerfield. He stepped closer and I took a step back, raising my hand. “You’re crossing the line again, Van.” His touchy-feely behavior needed to stop, and thankfully wild Cami stayed buried.
A blank look appeared on his face.
He had to be kidding me. “Your hand around my waist.” I let that sink in before I continued, “I’d like to appear professional in front of your teammates.”
He pouted like a little boy. “Sorry, babe, habit.”
“Babe, really.” Where was my bitchiness coming from and where had shy Cami gone? A flash of irritation crossed his face, but if I wasn’t watching closely I’d have missed it.
His pouty grin came back. “I apologize, Cami. Hands to myself during practice, I promise.”
He turned and ran out to his teammates, totally missing my point. I wanted him keeping his hands to himself all the time, and the “babe” and “baby” comments were over the top and completely unprofessional. It took a few deep breaths to shake off my negative thoughts before I could start watching practice.
The team warmed up first as a group. They all wore shorts, which I’d discovered through my research was the staple of a rugby uniform. The shorts also showed off powerful legs. I, for some reason, expected all the players to be clean cut like Van and Joel. I guess I hadn’t looked close enough at the pictures of the other players when I had the chance. It was surprising to see a mix of shaggy long hair, beards, and closely cropped heads. Their age gave me another revelation. The players’ ages ranged from somewhere between twenty and forty.
After warm ups they broke into small groups. I watched five of them, which included Joel, form a straight line across the field, stagger their running, and toss the ball to the player beside them. The quick ball handling looked more like the toss of a basketball than anything else.
Another group started kicking the ball and it reminded me of soccer, though played with a football. Maybe I knew more about sports than I thought. Not. Throughout the many high school and college games I attended, my eyes were usually glued to hot players and not the play itself. I was such a fool back then.
I watched each group work on different aspects of using the ball. No matter how hard I fought it, my eyes went to Van or his brother. Both had confidence in everything they did on the field. Even with their size, the brothers could move. I envied them their ability to run, jump, pass, and kick the ball. I also realized it was essential to everyone that they worked together as a team. They made seamless passes moving the ball to the distant goal. Their skill amazed me.
On the first break, Van walked over, swiped up a bottled water, and took a drink before pouring the rest over his head. Oh my. His shirt plastered to every muscled line of his chest. Van flung his head back, spraying water, and smiled at me. He hooked another bottle and handed it over when he was close enough.
“What do you think?”
That he had too much muscle too close to me. “I think they combined several sports into one and called it rugby. Is it that crazy during a match?”
“Crazier, but you’re getting the idea. Do you have any questions about the taxi and switch drills or the types of kicks?”
“A million.”
“Then how about we go over those at dinner tonight? Take notes or whatever it is you do and I’ll explain the finer points of rugby with a hot meal in front of us.”
Or whatever I do. The words sounded almost condescending, but I’d put it down to Van running his butt off for the last forty-five minutes. My total inexperience with sports didn’t help. Against my better judgment, I agreed, “It works for me. Thanks for the water.”
“I’ll pick you up at your hotel at seven.” He didn’t giv
e me time to answer. He ran back on the field calling players by name and setting up additional drills.
The sun was hot and I sipped my water until it was gone. I had no idea how long they practiced, but I needed a few hours before dinner to begin typing notes from my recorder. My first article was due Sunday morning. I wanted it ready and only needing a line or two added after the final score of the match.
I left the field while the team was practicing the jumping lift thing I’d seen in a few videos. My room was nice and cool. I finished typing my notes by six and took a shower in preparation for dinner.
With limited options, I decided on comfortable jeans and a loose, dark blue top. I wore flat shoes because they were steady. I don’t know why I put on a little more makeup than usual. God, now I was lying to myself. I knew exactly why I added the extra makeup and his name was a three-letter word.
Van knocked on my door at seven. He held a vase of yellow daisies and had a slight blush on his cheeks. What Van was this? I would bet a paycheck the man never blushed in his life.
“They reminded me of you,” he said as I stood at the door unsure of what to say. “I knew you wouldn’t have a vase here so they come with their own.”
I finally found my voice. “They’re beautiful, but this isn’t a date, Van.” Where my shyness disappeared to I had no idea.
He gave me his pouty face. “No, it’s an apology for how I acted earlier today.” His eyes looked so sincere.
I wondered which inappropriate behavior he spoke of, but decided not to ask. I took the flowers and sat them on the dresser. “So where am I taking you for dinner?” He tried taking a step closer, but I deftly moved around him.
He gave a loud, dramatic sigh. “At least I can look forward to the arm wrestling since calling you “babe” and putting my hands on you is off limits.”
He was smarter than he looked and smoother than I could handle. For some reason I couldn’t help laughing. I put out my arm and flexed. “You want a piece of this, huh?”
Kick (Completion Series) Page 4
