Off the Record (Off #3)(10)

Only one thing comes to my mind, and it practically screams at me...Linc Caldwell is the scummiest man-whore I’ve ever met.

I immediately think of Marc. Images of him and Kelli screwing on my bed flood my brain and I taste bile in the back of my mouth. What is it with men?

How did I miss Linc’s sliminess? He seemed so down to earth when we were talking. So genuine. He seemed interested in me, and that made me feel nice, particularly coming from someone as hot, rich and famous as Linc Caldwell.

As I wonder what in the hell is wrong with men, I also wonder what in the hell is wrong with me that I keep opening myself up to pretty words that fall from men’s mouths?

I leave the condo as my fury continues to build. I’m ashamed of myself that I could be fooled by someone like Linc. I should have known better, particularly after what Marc did to me. After what my father did to me and my mother. Plain and simple, men are not to be trusted. When am I going to finally learn that lesson?

All of the embarrassment, pain and humiliation I’ve seemed to have taken from men weighs heavily on me. It’s suffocating and I need something to relieve it. I cannot wait to get home and write this article.





I’m sitting at my desk, my laptop screen glowing brightly. I take a sip of the chai tea I had made for myself and think about what to write. My anger has diminished a bit but in its place is an unquenchable thirst for vengeance.

The folder that Linc’s agent gave me lies on the desk. I consider opening it up and flipping through it but I immediately give up on this idea. If I’m going to write an article about the true nature of Linc Caldwell, I need to be fully committed. No...this will not be a fluffy lifestyle piece that focuses on Linc’s charitable works or what styling product he uses for his hair. This will have a bit more grit to it.

I know it’s probably going to piss off some Rangers fans, but there are plenty of Islanders and Devils fans that will get a kick out of this.

I smile to myself in glee. Luckily, the lifestyle editor is a bit of a rebel herself and she’ll relish a spicy piece to put in the paper.

I start to type...



RANGERS’ GOALIE SCORES...A LOT!

By: Ever Montgomery



Yes, goalies can score!

Line up, ladies. Apparently Linc Caldwell, the New York Rangers’ star goalie, can be yours for the low, low price of a few flirtatious words or a low cut dress. And this offer doesn’t seem to have an expiration date or a limitation to how much you can have.

You see, I had the pleasure of Mr. Caldwell’s company the other night to write a lifestyle piece on him. Instead, I was treated to a bit more than I really wanted to see.



Just a few minutes before meeting me, I watched as Mr. Caldwell kissed on a half-naked woman. Then just a mere half hour into our interview, he had the temerity to hit on me, which I politely shut down. Not to be deterred, he moved on to a third woman who claims they got pretty down and dirty with one another. I finally witnessed him finishing off the night with a fourth woman in a very compromising position.



Now, I know Mr. Caldwell is one of the NHL’s finest hockey players, and this opinion piece offers no assessment of his hockey abilities. I’ll leave that to our esteemed sports writers.

But for those of you who want to know the man behind the mask, don’t bother looking too hard. It’s quite a shallow pool you’d be gazing into.

When I asked Mr. Caldwell how he got so many dates, he proudly said all he had to do was flash his washboard abs and huge bank account, and the women just flock to him. I’m sorry, Mr. Caldwell...but some women do need more than muscles and money to make them happy.

I almost, at one point, felt sorry for Mr. Caldwell. I imagine his life of meaningless sex and one-night stands has got to leave a man feeling somewhat empty. But that sympathy was quickly diminished when he even admitted to pissing a woman off so bad, she threw a shoe at him, causing that renowned and much discussed scar on his chin. It seems the scoundrel doesn’t learn from his mistakes.



I wish I could report that there was more depth to this wayward soul, but sadly, I cannot. The most I can offer you is that he is a damn fine goalie for New York. If you’re looking for more than that, you might be a bit disappointed. I know I was.





I print the article and read through it to check for any errors. After a few minor tweaks, I know I have it perfect. I know this will do nothing to change Linc’s behavior, but if it embarrasses him even slightly, I’ll feel vindicated.

Attaching the article to an email, I pause before hitting the “Send” button to the lifestyle editor. For a brief moment, I again wonder if I’m overreacting. But no...I’m reporting the truth as I saw it. These are my opinions and I’m entitled to have them. I have my facts down straight.

And I get it. I know I’m lashing out. I was totally helpless when my father crushed me. I was unsuspecting and undeserving of what Marc did to me. I let both of those go without so much as batting an eye. And then Linc Caldwell so quickly lumps me into a category with those other women and that makes me beyond furious. Now, I finally feel like I’m able to make a bit of a stand for all of those hurts that have been pushed upon me.





I’m stepping off the elevator to my condo, having just finished my morning run. I freakin’ love Sundays. It’s the one day that I don’t feel compelled to really do anything. Today, I think I may just lounge on the couch and play Call of Duty on my Xbox.