Body Check (35 page)

“Gee, thanks.”

“Well, it's true.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Why'd you do it?”

Ty ran a weary hand across his eyes. “You know why I did it. Because I can't handle both hockey and a relationship and be at the top of my game.”

“Hhmm. Interesting.” Kevin moved to the mirror at the end of the row of lockers. “Lemme ask you something. Am I at the top of my game?”

“Without question,” said Ty. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well,” said Kevin, untangling his black curly hair, “how is it that I manage to have a wife and kids and play great hockey, yet you seem to think they're mutually exclusive?”

“Because you're you, and I'm me. ”

“That's a cop-out and you know it.”

Ty snorted. “Maybe to you.”

“Look, you asshole, not having her in your life is affecting your play! Doesn't that tell you something?”

“Yeah, it tells me I have to concentrate harder on the ice.”

“Don't you get it?” asked Kevin. He began stuffing his gym bag. “Your career isn't going to last forever. If you're lucky, you've got six, maybe seven years left. What are you going to do when it's over, Ty? Sit alone and count your Stanley Cup rings? I know this is going to sound like blasphemy, but building a life with someone is more important than winning the Cup. More importantly, it's not impossible to do both.”

“It is for me.”

“Then with all due respect, you're a loser.” Kevin put a foot up on the bench and began lacing up his shoes. “I love you to death, buddy, but if you can't balance having a real relationship with making a run for the Cup, then there's something seriously wrong with you.”

“I guess there's something seriously wrong with me,” Ty said coolly, though his friend's words smarted. He rose and swung his gym bag up onto his shoulder. “We ready?”

“Yeah, we're ready,” Kevin grumbled.

Together they left the locker room.

 

 

“
Look at this.”
Standing behind his desk, Lou held up a wilted lettuce leaf for Janna's inspection. “You believe this?” He let the leaf drop back into the foil container of salad before him and picked up a baggie of carrot sticks, waving it. “How 'bout this? Real appetizing, huh?” He released the baggie in disgust. “They expect me to live on goddamn rabbit food now. Unbelievable.”

It was so good to have him back, Janna didn't care what he complained about or for how long—she would gladly listen. He was still extremely overweight, but nowhere near the Michelin-esque proportions he'd achieved before the heart attack. A chin or two had actually disappeared, and his shirts were no longer straining at the buttons. In fact, they were loose. Rumor had it that under his doctor's supervision, he was now walking twenty minutes a day on the treadmill. For a man whose previous definition of exercise was opening and closing the refrigerator door, this was monumental. Janna prayed he grew to see that taking care of himself was worth it. The thought of a Lou-less world was too awful to contemplate.

He'd been back for two days, and in that time had resumed absolute and complete control, much to the dismay of Jack Cowley, who took to skulking around the office like a bad cartoon villain. Lou told him to “get a grip or get out,” which Janna loved. But she was overcome with trepidation when Lou asked to speak with her privately, the more so when he closed the office door.

“So, what's up?” she asked after he finished crabbing about his heart healthy lunch.

Lou pulled a carrot stick from his bag and sitting down, began munching on it. “I gotta know something, and I promise you, this conversation is between us.”

Janna steeled herself. “Okay.”

“That stuff about you and Gallagher? Is it true?”

Janna colored, flustered. “It was. It's over now.”

“How did the press find out?”

Janna hesitated. “I—”

“It was Cowley, wasn't it?”

Janna kept silent.

“Cowley was pissed they made you interim head so he spilled the beans, didn't he, hoping you'd get the sack? It's okay, you can tell me. I'm not going to go out there and pound his pinhead into dust. I promise.”

God, how she longed to spill the whole thing and tell Lou the extent to which Cowley threatened her, but she couldn't, because she didn't want to upset him. She leaned forward, careful not to pop her own buttons. Her pants were too tight, thanks to all those baked goodies she'd been scarfing. She had to get this eating thing under control or come summer, none of her clothes would fit her. She looked at Lou.

“It was Cowley who leaked it to the press,” she admitted.

“Sonofa—I knew it. I knew it was killing that weasel that I wrecked his chances of swanning around here like he was king.” His gaze turned sympathetic. “Sorry 'bout that, doll.”

“Are you upset?” Janna asked timidly. “About me and Gallagher having been involved?”

“Before my heart attack I probably woulda read you the riot act, maybe even fired you if I was worked up enough. Now I don't give a damn who's doing who, as long as people are happy. So in answer to your question, no, it doesn't bother me—though if he hurt you, he's gonna have to pay.”

“He didn't hurt me,” Janna lied, touched by his concern. “The break up was mutual.”

“All right, then.”

Janna sank back on the couch, relieved.
Thank God he's fine with all this
, she thought. She watched Lou pretend to enjoy his salad. “You're not going to say anything to Cowley, are you?”

“Nah, not about this. But I am gonna ask what kind of moron he is, letting the press know the injured status of the players. From now on, anyone asks you anything, you know bupkus, okay?”

“I've been ‘No comment'-ing my head off all along,” Janna reminded him, which was true.

“Good.” Frustrated, Lou threw down the plastic fork he'd been using. “I swear to God I am so freakin' starving, I'm gonna gnaw my own leg off.” He picked up the phone.

“What are you doing, Lou?”

“Whaddaya think I'm doing? I'm sending Jules out front to get me a Krispy Kreme and a coffee.”

“Lou.” Janna's voice was reproachful. “Tell her to get you a black coffee and a plain bagel. That's a much better choice.”

“BOR-ING.”

“Lou!”

“Awright, awright.” He ordered what Janna told him to and hung up the phone. “Happy?”

“Very.”

“Yeah, well, it's not gonna last long when you see this.”

Janna watched as he picked up a curling piece of fax paper from his desk.

“Something you gotta get Gallagher to do, and I mean gotta.”

“Lou—”

“Just read it.”

He came out from behind his desk to hand the paper to her. It was a letter addressed to Lou from Sandi Rydel, a longtime Blades season ticket holder and president of the Blades Fan Club. She'd been laid off from her job and couldn't afford her tickets to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. She wondered if Lou knew someone who might be interested in buying them through her. That way she could keep dibs on them for the following year when, hopefully, she'd have another job.

Janna put the fax down. “Where does Ty come in?”

“I want you to set up a photo op where he passes the hat around to the players to collect money for Sandi, so she can buy the tickets.”

“He won't do it, Lou. Especially not during Playoffs.”

“He's gotta do it,” Lou insisted. “If he doesn't, Sandy might go boo-hooing to the press that the organization she's dedicated her life to refused to help her, which will make us look like a bunch of greedy, uncaring slobs. Who the hell could say no to an old woman, for Chrissakes?”

“Ty Gallagher.”

“He can't be that much of a heartless bastard.”

Oh yes, he can
, Janna thought. “You should talk to him about it, Lou. The fax is addressed to you.”

“But you know how to get him to do stuff, kid.”

“Not anymore!”

“Personal stuff aside, you got him to go to that United Way benefit in the fall. I know you can get him to go to this.”

Janna sighed, trapped. “I'll try,” she said grimly.

“Do more than try. Beg. Cajole. Threaten. Gallagher knows Sandi, he knows how much this would mean to her. Don't be afraid to put the screws to him and make him feel really guilty.”

Oh, I would love to
, Janna thought nastily.
More than you know
.

“And if it doesn't work?” she dared to ask.

Lou bit down hard on a carrot. “Then he really is a schmuck.”

 

 

 

 

It wasn't as
if she was asking him to pose naked, right? So why did this feel so hard to do? Partly, it was the knowledge that he'd turn her down and she'd have to go slinking back to Lou in defeat. But mostly, she admitted to herself, it was the idea of actually talking to him, of their eyes meeting. She found him channel surfing in the players' lounge.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Shoot.” His eyes remained glued to the screen.

“Could you possibly turn off the television?” She'd be damned if she'd compete with Jerry Springer.

Ty switched off the TV impatiently. “What's up?”

“This.” Janna handed him the fax and watched as he quickly scanned the page, his expression unchanging. He handed it back to her.

“What's this got to do with me?”

Janna hesitated. “Lou thought it might be nice if you passed the hat around to the players and collected money so that Sandi can get her tickets.”

Ty remained silent.

“She's sixty-four and worked in the elementary school cafeteria in her neighborhood for forty years, Ty. She was laid off. All it would take is five minutes of your time.”

“I don't have five minutes. Especially if there are photographers there.”

He folded his arms across his chest in refusal, returning her stare with a hard look of his own. “Look, Janna, I told you way back when you first started out here that I don't do this stuff—”

“But this is an exception,” Janna insisted. She rattled the paper without breaking eye contact. “You
know
Sandi. Can't you do it for her?”

“If I do it for Sandi, before you know it I'll have to do it for Al the janitor's cousin with a hernia, and Jim the trainer's brother with back trouble, and everyone else in the Blades orbit.”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I understand what you're saying, but don't you think it's better to pick and choose your battles? This is not the case to make your point with.”
Besides
, she added silently,
I know you have a heart, Gallagher. Use it
. But Ty was shaking his head.

“Tell Lou forget it, and tell Sandi I'm sorry, but I just can't.”

“Why don't
you
tell her?”

“That's your job,” Ty replied pointedly. “It did come to the PR office, after all.”

Janna tried another tact. “Do you know what kind of a creep you're going to look like if you don't do this, and your hard-heartedness leaks out to the press? Huh?”

“A busy creep, I guess.” His gaze was so frosty she wanted to flee. “That's Kidco talking, not you.”

“You're right. I already know you're a creep.” She saw something flicker in his eyes momentarily—hurt? anger? discomfort? She wasn't sure. But she'd registered some kind of hit, and was glad.

Ty's demeanor turned even more distant. “Let's try and keep this conversation professional, shall we?”

“Certainly.”

“What I'm saying is, Kidco doesn't want me to do this because they care about Sandi. They want me to do it so they can send along camera crews and have a heartwarming story about the captain collecting for the poor old woman.”

“You're wrong. This is about you doing a personal favor for someone who's been a loyal fan for a long time. Kidco has nothing to do with it. I don't think they even know.”

Ty frowned. “I'm not turning Sandi's misfortune into a photo op so those Corporate bastards can feel good about themselves.”

“Ty,” Janna said through clenched teeth, “how many times do I have to tell you this has nothing to do with Kidco? Look. At. The. Fax. Sandi is appealing to Lou as a
friend
, not as the head of PR. The only reason this is a PR matter is because Sandi has access to Lou.”

“Who wants to use it as an excuse for a goddamn photo op,” Ty replied angrily.

“So?! What is wrong with letting the public see you have a human side?”

“I thought I didn't have a human side,” he said sarcastically.

“And I thought we were keeping this professional.”

“If that was the case, you wouldn't be bothering me with this.”

Janna's mouth fell open into an indignant “O.” “Excuse me? What are you inferring? That I'm intentionally ‘bothering' you with this just to make your life difficult?”

“Bingo.”

“How dare you!”

“Come off it, Janna. You and I both know you cooked this up as payback for my dumping you. The amazing thing is that you actually thought I might do it.”

“Your ego astounds me.”

“As does your need for revenge.”

She patted his arm consolingly. “I'm not sure how to break this to you, Ty, but I'm well over you. Know why? Because the cookies I ate for breakfast have a deeper emotional life than you. To tell you the truth, I'm glad we're no longer involved.” She glared at him. “Now. Are you going to help Sandi out or not?”