Overnight Sensation(79)

“No! I’m fine! You just got yourself in trouble for nothing!”

That’s when the game announcer calls a two-minute bench minor against Brooklyn for delay of the game.

“See?” she yells, flailing her furry arms unhappily. “Now the fish gets a power play!”

I’m vaguely aware of an entire stadium laughing.

“You do your job, I’ll do mine!” she yells, her furry arms outstretched.

The ref’s whistle slices through the air, calling me to the penalty box.

Gritting my teeth, I go.





30





Heidi


“I can’t believe you have a black eye!” Rebecca fusses.

“It’s not black,” I argue. “Just a little purple. And it’s tiny.”

Becca gives me a knowing look and hands me an ice pack. “Sit there on the desk.” We’re in a barren little office underneath the San Jose stadium. “Maybe we should have the doctor go through the concussion protocol.”

“No way!” I yelp. “Did you see how thick the padding is on that bear suit? It’s like wearing a beanbag chair on my head.”

“Then how’d you get a black eye?

She’s got me there. “The head rotated a little. I bruised my eyebrow on the face frame when I landed. It’s nothing.”

“I guess there’s not much swelling.” Rebecca leans over me, clucking like a mother hen. “But I feel terrible. This assignment was supposed to be fun. It was your reward for suffering through all those other horrible jobs you’ve been doing.”

“Whatever,” I reassure my boss. “We shall not speak of this again.”

Rebecca sighs. “Okay. It’s in the vault.”

I’m deeply embarrassed about the whole thing—about losing a fight to a stuffed fish and about letting him get me so riled up. I didn’t even know I was capable of that kind of blood lust.

All the battle scenes in Outlander make more sense to me now, at least. Given the right set of conditions, I could run a sword through my enemy. Daddy wanted me to learn some things about myself? He didn’t count on this.

Nothing can make me feel better, either. We lost the game 2-1. San Jose scored during Jason’s penalty minutes. I’m still almost as mad at Jason as I am at myself.

Almost.

“I guess we can look on the bright side,” Rebecca says. “The footage is hilarious.”

“That is not the bright side,” I grumble.

“When you shook your butt at the fish…” Rebecca’s giggle shakes her whole body. “Priceless!”

I don’t want to see the footage. I wish the linoleum floor would open up and swallow me. Instead, I tap the screen of my phone, checking the time. We’re waiting for the post-game press conference to wind down. Can I make my escape yet?

At least I’m no longer wearing a smelly bear suit. I’m dressed in yoga pants and a Brooklyn hoodie that I stole from Jason. I’d rather be invisible. I just want to go back to the Holiday Inn and pull the sheets over my head, pretending this night never happened.

But the support-staff bus won’t pull up until every player has cleared out of the locker room. I’ll probably have to help the travel team load hockey gear onto the bus, if only to speed them up.

Georgia Trevi breezes into the room looking fresh and happy in spite of our loss tonight. "Heidi, there you are! The first blog posts are up and just look at this photo someone got!”

She’s smiling, but I brace myself anyway. The last time Georgia had a photo to show me, it was me as a stumbling drunk. Tonight it’s bound to be me in the bear suit, tangled up in the hockey net.

They must be scratching my name off the charm-school graduates’ list by now.

“Puck Buddy’s is actually doing a Caption This contest! Check it out.” She thrusts her Katt Phone into my hands.

There I am, standing tall at least. Small blessings. The fish isn’t in the shot, either. This photo is Jason and me, face to face, his hand on the top of the bear-suit head. The deathly serious expression on his face is in direct contrast to the silly bear’s smile on my costume.

My heart can’t even sort out all the things I feel when I look at this picture. All I want is to be treated like an adult—by my father and by Jason. But it’s always one step forward and then two steps back. Here he is scolding me like a child.

Although Becca and Georgia have no trouble seeing the humor in it. They’re giggling away. A hockey player scolding a stuffed animal? Hilarious!

Privately, I’m grinding my teeth. It’s yet one more instance of a man trying to rescue me again when I don’t need rescuing.

And here comes the man himself, stalking into the room, trailed by Tommy, the other publicist. Jason is wearing a well-cut suit and a scowl.

I whip the ice pack off my eyebrow, but I’m a little too late.

That scowl deepens. “You’re hurt? Jesus Christ.” He strides over to cup my chin possessively. Then he squints at my tiny bruise. “He gave you a shiner?” Those dark brown eyes get dark and wild.

And, fine, his caveman expression gets me a little hot. I’m only human. But I wish he’d save this show of protectiveness for a private moment when we’re both naked. Although I feel naked right now, because Becca and Georgia are watching with great interest.