Between a Jock and a Hard Place

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Between a Jock and a Hard Place Page 7

by Mona Ingram


  “Oh, My God. I forgot to tell you. The other blog came out today. The guy really blasted you.”

  “He did?”

  “Big time. Randy is beside himself with excitement. At last count there were over a thousand comments.”

  Claire tried to call it up on her phone, but the second period was starting and she couldn’t concentrate. “I’ll read it later,” she said, wondering just how bad it could be.

  A momentary silence fell over the bar when San Jose scored a goal. The high octane energy of the crowd fizzled a bit, and then deflated even more as San Jose scored a second goal two minutes later. The rest of the period was hard fought, but neither team scored.

  In the third period, Jack made a beautiful pass resulting in a goal, but at the end of the game San Jose had defeated the Canucks, ending their bid for the Stanley Cup. Claire made her way home, hoping that Jack would call but knowing that he wouldn’t. She let herself into her apartment and went to the computer. Might as well hear all the bad news at once.

  The blog was prefaced by a short intro from Randy:

  “Look out for the fireworks! Here’s today’s blog in response to last week’s anti-violence rant.”

  She took a deep breath and started to read.

  “When I was asked to present the opinion of a hockey insider on the issue of violence in professional hockey, I assumed it would be in response to accurate, reasoned arguments...not some irrational drivel plucked from the air.

  First of all, let’s clear something up. Yes, I’m a guy. I like to think I’m a gentleman, but there’s a limit to my patience. As they say in hockey, the gloves are off.

  The anti-blogger has trotted out the same tired old arguments that have been recycled over and over for the last decade. How about getting your facts straight, or is that too much trouble?

  Hockey violence was getting out of hand, I admit that. But the previous sentence is in the past tense for a reason. Does this blogger even follow hockey? To quote him, “I don’t think so”. Anyone who follows hockey would know that the NHL has appointed a new Head of Discipline to review serious infractions.

  The new appointment and the harsher penalties are working, people. Those players acting as enforcers have admitted publicly that they are now approaching the game with renewed thoughtfulness, and that each time they make a hit, they consider the results.

  From an insider’s point of view, this is major, and bears repeating. The enforcers in the game are making a conscious decision to play the game in a more responsible fashion. Are they going to continue to hit, and to protect their star players? Of course, but to a man they speak of restraint.

  Has the anti-blogger spoken of this? No. Why? Could it possibly be to make the anti-blog more sensational? Wait a minute...that would be like fighting to make the game more sensational, wouldn’t it?

  One final thought: Anti-blogger says that the fans have been conditioned to expect fights. An insulting comment if there ever was one, and I take offense on behalf of fans everywhere. Shame on you, anti-blogger. Shame on you.

  NOW, let’s hear what the readers have to say. I look forward to it.”

  Claire slumped back in her office chair, stunned. She felt like she’d been thrown to the wolves. How could Randy have printed this? She read it again, her heart pounding. What had she gotten herself into? She ignored the niggling little voice in the back of her head whispering that there might be something to what the blogger was saying. No...she was in the right, and she knew it. She’d been standing up for every player who’d ever been hurt while playing the game they loved. Why should she be subjected to public humiliation for stating her opinion?

  They don’t even know it’s you said the voice. But anger overrode reason and she didn’t listen. She would face down Randy first thing in the morning and demand a retraction.

  She tore off her clothes and climbed into bed wishing she could discuss it with Jack. He’d know how to handle this.

  Chapter Nine

  When Claire woke up the next morning she was surprised that she’d slept at all. She was usually a good sleeper, but last night had been agony. Between not hearing from Jack and the humiliation of the blog, her mind had been far too active, keeping her awake until around four in the morning.

  She dragged herself into the bathroom and studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked terrible, but she hadn’t changed her mind about visiting the Phoenix offices.

  With angry strides she covered the eight blocks to the newspaper, rehearsing what she would say to Randy.

  She paused on the ground floor of the building and glanced toward Zoey’s office. The lights were off, indicating that her friend was out. Just as well; if she saw her, she might lose some of her determination. She ran up the stairs to the mezzanine.

  Randy looked up as she appeared at the open door to his office, trying to catch her breath.

  “Hello, Claire.” He looked uneasy. Good...she was about to make him even more uncomfortable.

  She advanced into the office. “How could you do that to me, Randy? How could you print that blog?”

  The editor pulled himself together. “You mean the one yesterday?” He seemed to be playing for time.

  “Of course the one yesterday. The one by that Neanderthal!” She stopped to take in air. “I want you to print a retraction. That blog is nothing more than a call for more violence. To say that I didn’t do my research and that I insulted the fans is simply not true.”

  Randy picked up a newspaper. It had been folded back to the article in question. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Claire. This is his opinion, and he’s entitled to it.” He looked over her shoulder and frowned, but she didn’t notice.

  “But he’s wrong, Randy. Not only that, he’s insulting.”

  “Funny.” The editor had a strange smile on his face. “He says the same thing about you.”

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  “Loving what?” The voice came from behind her. She recognized it, but couldn’t quite believe her ears. She whirled around. “Jack?”

  He was leaning against the door jamb. “What are you doing here, Claire?”

  She grabbed the newspaper from the desk and showed it to Jack. “This is what I’m doing here. This...” she sputtered. “This idiot thinks he can insult me by saying that I didn’t do my research.”

  The colour drained from his face. “You wrote that drivel?”

  “Drivel?” At the familiar word, the truth hit her and she took a step back. “You were the other blogger?” The world seemed to give way beneath her feet.

  “Yes.” A muscle tensed in his jaw and she noticed that he’d shaved off his playoff stubble. “You don’t even follow hockey, Claire. With the exception of your brother, you have no connection to it. What made you think you could write a blog about the subject?”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She turned back to Randy. “See what I mean? It’s all about the Old Boys network, or some such archaic notion. I’m a woman so I can’t possibly have a valid opinion. Come to think of it, that would be a waste of time because nobody will even entertain the thought of changes, even when it’s clear that the rules are too loose to carry any weight. How many more kids are going to get hurt before hockey gets serious about protecting the players?”

  “Now wait just a minute.” This was a new Jack, and he was angry. He tapped a finger on his words. “Did you even read this, or is that another of your ridiculous accusations? You didn’t even bother to mention that a new position has been created. We now have someone who is policing the violence. Things don’t change overnight, Claire, but we’re working on it.”

  Tears had been gathering behind her eyes and she blinked them back. “Well Jack Logan, You’ve made it clear where you stand on this subject.” She grabbed the newspaper out of his hand, tossed it on Randy’s desk and then turned back to him. “As for the supposed changes, I suggest you work on them faster.”

  She whirled around to face Randy.
“I won’t be blogging again. That’s what I came to tell you.” She shot a look at Jack, who had turned aside and refused to meet her eyes. “This isn’t what I signed up for.” She turned and left with as much dignity as she could muster.

  * * *

  Jack lowered himself into one of the chairs in front of Randy’s desk and ran a hand over his face. “This has not been the best week I’ve ever had,” he said, expelling a breath of air.

  Randy looked down through the glass window of his office as Claire walked past Zoey’s empty office, shoved open the front door and walked outside. “I didn’t know you two knew each other, or I’d never have agreed to this.”

  Jack shook his head. “I’m still trying to get my head around the whole thing.”

  Randy toyed with his pen. “You were kinda rough on her, weren’t you?”

  Jack looked up. “Was I?” He rotated his shoulders. “Maybe I was, but I feel strongly about the changes we’re trying to make. Besides, she didn’t exactly pull her punches.”

  Randy nodded. “I understand. Where do we go from here?”

  “I’m not sure, but you’ll be going there without me.” He gave a dry laugh. “That’s why I came here this morning. I’m not cut out for this either, it appears.” He looked up. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Between the two of you, you’ve really ignited a controversy. We’ve had hundreds of requests from people who want to blog. Maybe we’ll open it up and feature a different opinion every day.”

  “You mean strike while the iron is hot.”

  Randy grinned. “Something like that.”

  “Well, good luck.” He got up. “I have to go to the airport and there are always photographers hanging around. I have to find my smile somewhere between here and there.”

  “Good luck, Jack.”

  “Thanks, Randy.” He paused at the door. “Don’t forget to send the donation to the Childrens’ Hospital.”

  * * *

  Claire’s steps slowed as she neared her apartment building. She didn’t want to go in and start a new project, but more than that, she didn’t want to be reminded that she’d just blown off the most exciting man she’d ever known.

  She walked aimlessly and found herself sitting on a bench by Lost Lagoon. Looking back, the morning seemed like a dream sequence in a movie. Coming back from the Phoenix offices the anger had leaked out of her like air from a balloon. The tears that she’d so valiantly held back began to fall and she stared through them at the swans, trying to make sense out of what had happened in Randy’s office.

  It was clear that she didn’t know Jack Logan at all. He could be cold and ruthless; he’d proven that with his words in the blog and again this morning. How had they gone from exquisite lovemaking to despising each other in such a short period of time?

  Every word of his blog was indelibly printed in her mind. Was there any legitimacy in what he’d said? Had she really recycled the same old facts, as he had suggested? She hated to admit it, but there might be some truth to that statement.

  And yet, the central theme of her argument was still valid. Young men were being hurt playing the game they love, and she’d done her utmost to convince an apathetic public that the rules need changing.

  As for Jack’s comments...she had to admit that her feelings were hurt more than her journalistic integrity. She’d lashed out at him and now the words they’d exchanged couldn’t be taken back. The damage to their relationship was irreparable; he’d made that clear when he turned away from her. Besides, she told herself, second chances only come along in romance novels...a fact well known by every woman with a broken heart.

  A soft rain began to fall, pebbling the surface of the lagoon. She sat for a few moments, gathering her thoughts, deciding what to do next. One thing was clear; she needed to get away from Vancouver. She got up and went back to her apartment.

  She booked a flight, dragged her suitcase out of the closet and started tossing items in without much thought. She wouldn’t need many clothes and what she didn’t have she could buy when she got there. What was important now was simply getting away.

  The phone rang around seven in the evening. She’d fallen asleep, and apart from being groggy, she felt better for the much-needed rest. She glanced at the caller ID, disappointed to see that it was Zoey. You don’t really think he’s going to call, do you? asked the annoying voice in her head.

  “A girl can always hope,” she said aloud, and pressed talk. “Hi, Zoey.”

  “Well, my friend. You certainly stirred things up today, didn’t you?”

  “You could say that. Did you hear about Jack being there?”

  “Are you kidding? The whole shop was buzzing about it. Randy says you two practically tore each other apart.”

  “It wasn’t pretty.” Her voice cracked. “Looks like it’s over, Zo.”

  “Yeah.” Her friend was silent for a few extra beats. “Hey, Claire? I wanted to give you a heads up.”

  A prickle of apprehension tiptoed down her back. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re running a picture of Jack with a woman in tomorrow’s paper. It’ll be up on the website tonight.”

  “A woman?” Claire’s heart plummeted. “Already?” Deep inside she hadn’t really believed it was over. Maybe she needed something like this to force her to get on with her life. “Please don’t tell me she’s a blonde.”

  Zoey silence confirmed her fears.

  “Where is it taken? Do you know?”

  “At the airport. Looks like he was meeting her. I’m sorry, Claire, but she’s gorgeous and it looks like he’s kissing her.”

  “Does is just look that way or is he really kissing her?”

  “He’s kissing her.”

  Claire mustered every shred of dignity she had left. “Well then, it looks like I made the right decision. I’m going away for a while.”

  “What about work?”

  “I’ve just finished that mega project. I can easily take a week off. Maybe more.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Let’s just say I’m going to get my head straight.”

  “What is this? Some sort of secret?”

  Claire sighed. “If I’m going to get over him I need to do this, Zoey. Don’t worry. I’ll take my notebook and keep in touch.” She paused for a moment. “I’m thinking about writing one last blog. Do you think Randy would consider it if I sent it in?

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll threaten to quit.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “The key word in that sentence was threaten.”

  Claire laughed. “You’re the best, Zoey. I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”

  “You’re going to tell Cam, and your parents, right?”

  “I called Cam but I chickened out when it came to the parents. He’s going to call them tomorrow after I’m gone.”

  “Take it easy, kiddo. Remember, I love you.”

  “Love you too, Zo. Talk to you later.”

  * * *

  Jack waited impatiently outside the baggage claim area. A few people had recognized him, but they’d mercifully left him alone. Even the photographers seemed to be giving him a wide berth. Vancouverites took their hockey seriously and they were as disappointed as the players...possibly more.

  She stood out from the other passengers converging on the baggage carousel. She spotted him and waved, a tall, lithe figure crowned with a halo of golden hair.

  “Jack!” She let go of the handle of her suitcase and threw herself into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.” She kissed him and then pulled back. “You look like hell.”

  He grabbed her suitcase and they headed outside. “As I said to someone just this morning, it hasn’t been my best week.”

  “And that’s why I decided to come. The magazine didn’t want to give me the time off, but I told them it was an emergency.”

  “I’m glad you came, Cassie.” He slipped an arm around her waist. “I could use some cheering up.”
<
br />   * * *

  “So explain this to me again.” They were walking along the seawall the next morning. “You met this girl here, on the seawall, and she didn’t recognize you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What did that do to your ego?”

  “Nothing.” He gave her a sideways glance and realized she was kidding. “Come on, Sis. I’m trying to explain this to you.”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t be so touchy.”

  Jack continued. “Her brother is a hockey player in the minors and he got a concussion.”

  “Is he available?”

  “Cassie!”

  “Lighten up, Logan. Okay, so she’s got a brother who was injured, and she starts to blog about it. And in the meantime, are you two doing the horizontal tango?”

  Jack felt a blush creep up his neck.

  She took his arm. “I knew that, silly. Otherwise why would you be so upset? I just wanted you to confirm it, that’s all.”

  Jack gave his head a shake. “Let’s stick to the facts.”

  “Seems to me that having sex with the person blogging on the opposing side is rather factual. But okay, we’ll leave that for now.” Cassie held up her free hand, bending her fingers as she made each point. She bent one finger. “She decides to ratchet it up on her blog.” A second finger. “You post a flaming response.” A third finger. “You lose the game and you’re out of the playoffs.” Another finger. “You charge into the newspaper office where you learn she’s the one blogging on the other side.” She looked at her hand. “I’m running out of fingers here, Boyo.”

  He expelled a breath. “That’s about it.”

  “Come on, Jack. You’ve got to be kidding. I understand that you were emotional about losing the series, but get a grip! You’re going to lose someone you’re in love with over a silly thing like this?”

  “I didn’t say I was in love with her.”

  “Jack Logan, you’re such an idiot. Of course you’re in love with her. We wouldn’t be having this conversation otherwise. As Cher said in that movie: ‘Snap out of it.’”

  He stopped in his tracks and looked at his sister. “Damn it, Cassie, you’re right. What’s the matter with me? Why couldn’t I figure that out?”

 

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