Body Check (41 page)

Though she hadn't expected it, she'd felt a small surge of delight when she'd come to work to find there were no real messes for her to clean up. None of the guys had gotten into a fight, or taken the Cup to a strip club, or lost it, or done anything questionable with the top prize in sports since she'd seen them last. She allowed herself a moment of pride. Lou had hired her to shore up the Blades' image and help raise them to a higher level of respectability. Judging by the way the team behaved this year compared to last, it seemed all her hard work had paid off.
Maybe I shouldn't resign
, she thought uneasily.
Maybe I should keep working for Lou
.

“Janna?”

For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, one of the interns had called her name. She clenched her teeth.

“Yes?”

“David Letterman's people are on the line,” the young woman said breathlessly. “They want to to know if Ty Gallagher and Kevin Gill would be willing to bring the Cup on the show tonight. What should I say?”

“Transfer that call to Lou. Then go down to the Starbucks across the street and get me a tall—no a venti- double mocha latte, okay?” She fished in her purse and handed the girl a ten dollar bill. Then she marched into Lou's office and closed the door.

“Those Twinkies you hired are driving me nuts,” she declared.

Lou, in the middle of a phone call, just nodded distractedly. Janna waited for him to hang up the phone. “What did you say?” he asked.

“I said—”

His phone rang again.

“Get it,” said Janna, slumping down on his couch. “Just get it.”

But he didn't. Instead he directed his secretary to hold his calls for a few minutes.

“Have you talked to Gallagher since the party at The Grill last night?” he asked.

“I didn't even talk to him then. Why? What's up?”

Lou grimaced, scratching the bald spot on top of his head. “That was Jimmy Salo at the
Post
. He heard a rumor about Gallagher and he wants to know if it's true.”

Oh, great
, thought Janna, preparing herself for the worst.
Here goes my personal life again, splashed all over the gossip pages
.

“What's the rumor?” she asked.

“He said he heard—from very reliable sources—that at the team party last night Gallagher announced he's retiring from hockey.”

“Get out of here,” Janna scoffed. “His sources are full of it.”

“That's what I said, but still, we gotta keep on top of this. Talk to him when he shows up for the shoot.”

“Ty Gallagher would never retire from hockey. Hockey is his life.”

Lou raised one of his caterpillar-sized eyebrows. “Do I detect some bitterness in your voice, sweetcakes?”

“Not at all,” Janna fibbed. “Look, the reason I came in here was to let you know that those interns you hired are useless. They keep asking me questions every three minutes.”

“Tell 'em to take messages. Period.”

“I thought you told them that already.”

“Tell 'em again,” said Lou.

“They're not bothering Jack at all,” Janna pointed out, miffed.

“That's because I told them not to.”

Janna stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Cowley's history, okay? After all this Stanley Cup hoopla settles down, I'm letting him go. The last thing I want is a backstabbing, power hungry jackass working for me. Besides, the players don't trust him, especially after the injury report fiasco.”

“You're really firing him?” Janna tried hard to keep the excitement out of her voice, knowing it was wrong to find delight in someone else's misfortune. Still, if that someone else happened to be Jack Cowley, maybe a touch of glee was permissible.

“It's hasta la vista, Jackie, just like I said.” Lou looked amused. “Try not to look so sad, okay? I know this is breaking your heart.”

“Completely.”

“I'm gonna need your help finding his replacement.”

“Sure,” Janna replied evenly, feeling like a heel. Should she tell him now, in the midst of all this chaos, that she planned to resign? He'd throw an embolism. Better to wait until things were back to normal. The thought of not working with Lou anymore filled her with sadness. She adored him, bad eating habits and all.

A knock sounded at the door, and Janna turned around, surprised. “Geez, that was fast.”

“What was fast?”

“I asked Cindy Lou Who to run across the street and get me a latte.”

Lou's eyes lit up. “Did you tell her to get your boss one of those giant chocolate chip cookies as well?”

“No, I did not,” Janna replied, “because my boss doesn't eat those anymore, does he?”

“Jesus, Mary and St. Joseph, you're worse than my wife,” Lou grumbled. “Come on in!” he shouted.

The door opened to reveal not a coffee-bearing intern, but Ty Gallagher holding the Stanley Cup. Behind him, Janna could see Jack Cowley's smirking face, as well as the stunned face of Lou's secretary and the remaining intern, who looked as though she'd just witnessed the Second Coming.

“Gallagher!” Lou crowed, hitching up his pants as he came out from behind his desk. “Been out all night, eh? You look like six miles of bad road. Your boys behave themselves?”

“As far as I know.”

“But not you. You've been a bad boy.”

Ty put the Cup down on the floor and looked at Lou questioningly. “What are you talking about?”

Lou looked sly. “You got something you wanna tell Uncle Lou in PR?”

A slow smile spread across Ty's face. “What have you heard?”

“Salo called me not five minutes ago, foaming at the mouth. He says he has it on good authority that you gave the big
arriverderci
speech last night at Dante's. That true?”

Ty's eyes went straight to Janna. “Yup. I'm retiring.”

“What are you, out of your mind?” Lou barked. “You're at the top of your game!”

“Which is why I want to retire now.” His eyes remained fixed on Janna. “I want to go out on top. Plus there are some other things I'd like to do with my life.”

He smiled at Janna then, a happy, weary smile that she returned despite a sudden feeling of shyness in his presence. It was obvious he had indeed been up all night: he was wearing the same khakis and blue oxford shirt as the night before, though his clothing was rumpled now, and his face bore the beginnings of a beard from not having shaved. But his eyes were luminous, not bloodshot, and there was a calmness about him that belied any sense of having struggled to make such a monumental decision. The way he was looking at her—so openly, with such quiet affection, told Janna that Lou wasn't the person he had come to speak with.

The look was lost on the Bull, who was busy looking Ty up and down like a mother inspecting her child before his first day of school. “You're gonna shave and change before the photo session, right?”

“Of course I am.” He came toward the couch, lightly resting his hand on Janna's shoulder. Janna swallowed, trying to remain nonchalant, but it was hard. A touch from Ty, any touch, was still like contact with a live wire. She wondered if he knew that.

“Lou, would it be possible for me to have a couple of minutes alone with Janna?” Ty asked politely. “I know it must be nuts in here today, but this really can't wait.”

“No problem. I have to hit the can anyway.”

Janna tried to ignore the wink Lou gave her as he left the office, quietly closing the door behind him. They were alone now, just she and Ty—and the Cup. She rose and went to inspect the magnificent silver trophy up close. It smelled of booze.

“Show me where your name's been etched on it before,” she asked self-consciously.

Ty crouched down, pointing out his name in three different spots.

“Pretty impressive,” said Janna. Ty stood, and she could feel him watching her as she distractedly read the hundreds of other names ringing the Cup. “I didn't get a chance to congratulate you at The Grill last night,” she began.

“And I didn't get a chance to thank you. If not for you, that Cup wouldn't be sitting in this office right now.”

“Yes it would,” said Janna, uncomfortable with the credit he was giving her.

“No, it wouldn't,” Ty insisted. “Listen to me, Janna. Your telling me what Kidco had planned for me was a wake-up call in a lot of ways.” He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her so they were facing one another. “Do you remember telling me way back in the beginning of the season that you would be the pebble in my shoe that I couldn't get rid of, the annoying song lyric I couldn't get out of my head?”

Janna looked down. “Yes.”

“Well, you were right. You
are
the song lyric I can't get out of my head. Except the lyrics are those of a love song.”

Janna took a shallow breath, wanting to hope, wanting to dream, but still feeling the need to guard herself.

“Are you listening to me?” Ty asked when she didn't respond.

Janna nodded.

“In the past, I've never been able to maintain a relationship and make a run for the Cup. The personal stuff always interfered with the concentration I needed to win, or vice versa. I know there are guys who can balance both—Kevin, for example—but I've never been one of them. So I had to choose. I could either continue dedicating my life to hockey, or I could finish out my career on a high note and pursue a life with the woman of my dreams.”

He reached for her hand. “Winning last night was glorious, but it was nowhere near the happiness I felt when you and I were together.” He paused, pensive. “I know I hurt you when I ended things. I also lied—to you and to myself. Our relationship was never a casual thing to me, never. But I couldn't admit it, because admitting it meant giving my heart over to you. Look at me, Janna. I'm a jock. I thrive on making myself impervious to pain and vulnerability. But you . . .” He reached out and tenderly touched her cheek. “You really got to me, lady. And it scared the life out of me.”

Janna could barely find her voice. “It scared me, too. I'm scared now.”

He drew her into a tight, protective embrace. “I know you are, but don't be. I will never, ever hurt you again. I swear it.”

Warmth flooded her. It felt so good to be held by him, so right. And yet . . . She drew back just enough to look up into his face. “What happens now?”

“Now I ask you to forgive me for hurting you. I tell you that I love you and hope to God to hear you say you still love me. I tell you that I want to build a life with you.”

Tears blurred Janna's vision. “You're sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” he assured her, once again pulling her close. “I've accomplished what I set out to achieve. Sure, I could keep playing, maybe even win another Cup, but what would be the point? I want a life, Janna, a real one. And I want it with you.”

“Looks like we're both making some career changes,” she said.

“What?”

“Don't say anything to anyone, but I'm going to resign soon.” She hesitated. “Theresa and I are opening our own PR firm.”

“Way to go!” Ty looked delighted. “I'm really glad to hear that.”

“We'll see how glad you are when I'm panicking because we don't have enough clients.” Her heart gently tapped against her ribs. “Have you thought about what you'll do instead?”

“I don't know. Open a restaurant, I guess,” he joked. “Coach. Become a GM. Something will present itself. Maybe I'll just spend hours on end making love to my wife.”

Wife
. The word made Janna's head snap up in shock. “Is that . . . are you . . . ?”

Ty laughed softly. “Let me do the questioning, okay? Janna MacNeil, will you marry me?”

“Aren't you supposed to kneel?”

Ty shook his head and sighed. “A backbreaker to the end, aren't you? You want me to kneel? Fine, I'll kneel.” He knelt down and took her hand. “Janna MacNeil,” he repeated reverently, “will you marry me?”

“Mmm . . . yes.” She yelped with joy as Ty rose and scooped her up in his arms, spinning her around. “Yes, yes, yeeesss!!!”

“Hey, no funny stuff in my office, ya hear me?”

Janna was still giggling and giddy as Ty put her down at the sound of Lou's voice.

“You kids done yet?”

Janna beamed. “We're done. We—” She looked to Ty, unsure of how much to reveal. “We're—”

“Getting married,” Ty announced proudly, squeezing her tight.

Lou rushed towards them, pumping Ty's hand furiously before covering Janna in paternal kisses. “Congratulations! This calls for some
sfogliatelle
, don't you think? Sit tight. I'm gonna use your phone, doll, and order up a big box from a place I know in Little Italy. They're to die for. Won't be a 'mo.”

Once again Lou disappeared. Ty and Janna looked at each other and shrugged.
What was there to say?
Janna thought. That was Lou for you. Leaning in to softly kiss her lips, Ty took her back in his arms, the only place she ever wanted to be.

“So,” he said.

“So,” Janna echoed, settling back into the exquisite security of his embrace.

“That's that. There's just one more important question I need to ask you.”

“What's that?”

“What the hell is
sfogliatelle
?”

Janna laughed. “You got me. But then, you already knew that.”

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sneak preview of
Deirdre Martin's
novel,