Sure Shot (Brooklyn #4)(28)

The team publicist obviously agrees with me. She’s wringing her hands behind Miranda Wager, begging me with her eyes to cut things short.

But Miranda isn’t done with me. “Your ex-captain says he’s looking forward to your January matchup, and that there’s no way Brooklyn can win. He’s calling for a three-point differential on the scoreboard. What do you say to that?”

I tip my head back and laugh out loud. Fucking Palacio. “Here’s what I think, Miranda—hockey is fifty percent skill and fifty percent smack talk. Personally, I don’t see the point of predicting a point spread on a game that’s still months away. But maybe that’s just a little quirk of mine.”

She gives me another smile, so I brace myself. “Bart Palacio also predicted the matchup to be rougher than usual. He said lingering tensions will probably flare up on the ice. Do you know which tensions he’s referring to?”

A flush creeps up my neck as I force myself to hold her gaze. “I wouldn’t have a clue, sorry,” I say in the calmest voice I can muster.

“Didn’t the two of you fight?” she asks, holding her phone up to record whatever I say.

“Well, this might be tough to believe, but my teammate and I did not see eye to eye during every minute of the last seven years. Like all people who work closely together, we fought occasionally. You can write whatever you want, though. I know it’s tough to get a good story out of one lousy practice. But if you want to see Brooklyn evolve into a new kind of fighting machine, you stick around.”

I’m feeling damn proud of this answer when Miranda levels me with one last question. “Do you have any insight into Juliet Palacio’s reasons for hiring a divorce attorney yesterday?”

All my blood stops circulating. “Come again?”

“Yesterday, Bart Palacio’s wife retained legal counsel at Darby, Connors and Morgan, the same firm that represented your wife for her divorce—”

Georgia steps between us suddenly, like a skilled referee heading off a fight. “Questions at open practice can only be game-related. And Tankiewicz is needed in the dressing room.”

Miranda switches off her microphone. “Then I guess I’m done here.”

Georgia actually has to give me a hard nudge to get me moving toward the locker room, because I’m trying to wrap my head around this new layer of bullshit.

“Tank,” Georgia says the minute we’re past the double doors that lead to the locker rooms. “What the hell just happened?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly.

She studies me with a frown. “I hate to ask, but…” She clears her throat.

“No,” I say, preempting the question. “I never spent any time with Juliet Palacio. I had no idea they were getting divorced. And I do not know why.”

“Sorry,” Georgia says quickly. “I’m just trying to stay ahead of the news cycle.”

“You and me, both.”

“Okay.” She pats me on the arm. “Good practice.”

I just laugh, because it was not a good practice. Not even a little.





Twelve





Big Hunk of Kryptonite





Daily News and Sports


“Dallas’s Palacio Throws Down a Challenge. Tankiewicz Won’t Answer It.”


By Miranda Wager

Brooklyn’s morning practice was just as squirrelly as last night’s game. The team has some work to do, as Tankiewicz fails to settle in.

They used to call him “Sure Shot.” But that nickname will have to die if he doesn’t get his stick on the puck more often.

Meanwhile, his old team has finally found its footing without him, beating Arizona last night, redeeming their Boston loss.

When asked about the upcoming Dallas / Brooklyn matchup, team captain Palacio was confident. “We’ll take them by at least 3 goals,” he said. “It’s gonna be a gong show, too. There are tensions that need airing out.”

Palacio didn’t say what those tensions were. However, this week his wife retained counsel with divorce attorneys.

At any rate, Brooklyn fans will be glued to their TVs in early January to find out if their team can take down its nemesis with one of its former players.

When asked for his own prediction for that game, Tankiewicz refused to provide one.





Tank


I read the so-called article in the back of a taxi the next day. It’s not Miranda Wager’s best work. But hey—she has to file a story whether she finds one or not, or lose her job to someone else. I get it.

The comments, though. They’re worse than usual. Miranda opened the door for another round of armchair hockey fans to smear my name.

Tankiewicz gets into a fight with Palacio, then they both get divorced. Coincidence?

I groan out loud. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one to read this article. By the time I step out of the cab in front of my new boutique hotel, my phone is blowing up with texts from my ex-wife. Ignoring Jordanna for the moment, I pay the driver and then enter the spacious and plant-filled hotel lobby.

“Mr. Tankiewicz, welcome back,” the concierge says from behind his desk. “Can I offer you a croissant and some fresh-squeezed orange juice?”

“Well, sure,” I say as my stomach rumbles. “Thanks.”