Between a Jock and a Hard Place: A Romance Novella (7 page)

Why is this violence permitted, or in
some cases encouraged? The answer is simple: money. Today’s hockey fan wants to
see those illegal checks which almost inevitably lead to fights. Fans stand up
and cheer during and after a fight. And don’t tell me that fighting is an
integral part of the game. Hockey used to be a game of skill, not a pugilistic
free for all. Fans have been conditioned to expect these fights.

Could these vicious checks and fights be
stopped with stiffer penalties? Many insiders think so. But as of today, the
penalty for fighting a pre-arranged “grudge match” between two enforcers is a
mere five minutes and oh, wait for it...two extra minutes if one of them is
cut. It’s laughable.

So what are we going to do about this? I
have some ideas that I’ll share with you in my next blog. In the meantime, I’d
like to hear what you think.

She paused, read it over and pressed
save. She’d been concentrating so hard she hadn’t noticed the ripple of
excitement that ran through the people seated around tables in the coffee area.
She looked up to see a tall man in a leather jacket disappearing down the hall
in the direction of the elevators. All eyes seemed to be following his
progress. She’d only caught a glimpse of him, but there was something familiar
about the way he walked, and the broad shoulders.

She leaned toward the young couple at
the adjoining table. “Who was that?” she asked.

“Jack Logan.” said the young man,
obviously star-struck. “You know... the hockey player.”

 The woman giggled and leaned forward.
“You didn’t see him?” She fluttered a hand over her heart. “So good looking. He
stopped for a coffee, too.” She clutched at the young man’s arm. “Of course I’m
happily married. We’re waiting for Ken’s mother. She’s having a colonoscopy.”

Claire nodded politely but couldn’t help
thinking that there was definitely such a thing as too much information. She
checked her watch and decided she had enough time for another coffee.

“Did you see Jack Logan?” The
middle-aged woman behind the counter was still flushed with excitement. She
straightened her name tag, which read Shelley. “He’s so nice. Comes in here
quite frequently, he does.”

“Oh?” Claire glanced down the hall but
the man had disappeared.

“Yes.” He usually comes in with a blonde
woman. Sits right over there, where you’re sitting and waits for him while he
goes upstairs.” She leaned closer, lowered her voice. “She’s not very friendly,
but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“No, of course not.” Claire tipped a
packet of sweetener into her coffee. “He comes here regularly?”

The woman looked both ways, as though
she were giving up state secrets. “He goes up to the childrens’ ward. They just
love him up there.” She busied herself wiping off the counter. “The other
celebrities who come here always have an entourage, including a photographer,
but Jack just comes in on his own.” She paused long enough to take a breath.
“And he always stops to say hello and buy a cup of coffee.”

“Sounds like a nice guy. I’d like to
meet him some day.”

“You and every other single girl in
Vancouver.”

“Really?” Claire smiled at the
exaggeration. “Thanks for the coffee.” She returned to the table. Thankfully,
the young couple had left. Maybe she should Google Jack Logan and find out what
all the fuss was about. But first, she wanted to read over her blog again. It
was due by tomorrow and with the availability of Wi-Fi in the hospital, she
could send it now. She opened the document and began to read it over.

“Hi, Sis.” Cam appeared at the table and
sat down across from her. “What are you working on?”

“Hold on a sec.”Claire pressed send and
closed the computer. “Just some notes for a project I’m working on.” She still
hadn’t told Cam about the blog. “How did it go?”

“Okay. All I have to do is lie there,
but I think I got up too quickly; I’m dizzy again.” He looked at her cup. “Do
you mind if I get a coffee? I’d like to sit for a minute before we go out to
the car.” He stood up before she could protest. “Back in a sec.”

He sat down and sipped at the coffee.
“This is so much better than that stuff Dad makes in the mornings. Mom and Dad
must be the last people on earth that drink perked coffee.” They laughed
together but Cam stopped abruptly and stared in the direction of the lobby.
“Hey, look at that,” he said, eyes widening. “It’s Jack Logan.”

Claire looked over her shoulder. John
stood on the other side of the coffee kiosk with several young boys clustered
around him. He appeared to be signing autographs. She opened her mouth to speak
but no sound came out. As though sensing her presence, he looked up and their
eyes met. A smile lit up his face and he hurriedly signed the remaining
autographs and walked over to their table.

“Claire!” He bent over and brushed his
lips against her cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“John?” She looked from him to her
brother. Something wasn’t adding up.

“You know this guy?” Cam stood up and
offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Cameron Collins.”

Jack pulled up a chair and sat down.
“Cameron Collins? Why do I know that name?”

“John, this is my brother.”

“Your brother?” He snapped his fingers.
“I know. You’re the one who had the concussion, aren’t you?” He turned to
Claire. “Why didn’t you tell me he was your brother?”

She was still in shock. “Why didn’t you
tell me you’re a hockey player?”

He leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Claire. I
was going to tell you today.”

Cam looked from one to the other. “You
two guys are an item?”

Claire frowned.

“Yes.” Jack looked steadily at Cam. “We
are. I hope you approve.”

Claire rose. “No, we’re not.” She backed
away and almost tripped over the chair. “You’re Jack Logan? Why didn’t you tell
me?”

“Claire, please.” Jack reached for her.
“Let me explain.”

She blinked back tears. She would not
let him see her cry. “There’s nothing you could say that would explain why you
kept this from me.” She darted a glance at Cam. “Especially after I told you
about Harrison. How he lied to me.”

Jack looked so miserable she was almost
sorry for him. She turned and walked quickly toward the exit.

“Claire, I’m sorry...” his words trailed
after her.

* * *

Jack watched her leave and debated about
going after her. He turned to her brother.

“What do you think? Should I follow
her?”

Cam made a face. “Better not. She has
quite a temper.” He paused. “How did you guys meet, anyway?” He should probably
be angry on behalf of his sister, but it was difficult; he’d looked up to Jack
Logan for years.

“We met on the seawall. Some idiot on a
bike ran her down.” He looked back toward the exit, hoping she might come back.

Cameron frowned. “She didn’t tell me,
but then I’ve been out of it.”

“I heard about that. How’s the
concussion?”

“I’m still getting dizzy spells.”

Jack’s brows drew together. “I saw the
replay of that hit. It was definitely late. In my opinion the guy who hit you
should have received at least a game misconduct if not a suspension.”

Cam offered a wry smile. “I was cool
with it at the time, but that was because I thought I’d bounce right back.”

Jack leaned forward, his concern
obvious. “But you’re out for the rest of the season, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s just not right. That’s all there
is to it.” He picked up Claire’s coffee cup, stared into it. “Do you think
she’s going to forgive me?”

Cam shrugged. “I don’t know, man. She’s
got this thing about honesty. Can’t say I blame her after the way that last guy
treated her.”

Jack nodded. “I hear you.” He grabbed a
napkin and started writing. “We were going to meet at my condo this afternoon.
This is my address and my phone. Would you give it to her?”

“Okay.” Cam looked at the napkin. “I’d
better get going. Claire is acting as my chauffeur until I get better.”

Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry this
didn’t go better.” He watched as Cam rose unsteadily. “I didn’t mean to lie to
her, you know. It’s just that I so rarely get to meet anyone without this
celebrity business getting in the way.”

Cam gave him a wry smile. “For someone
like me that doesn’t sound like a problem. I guess it depends on your
perspective, huh?”

They shook hands and Cam walked out.
Jack watched him go, wondering if he’d blown the most promising relationship he’d
had in a long time... maybe ever.

* * *

Cam was relieved to see Claire waiting.
He climbed into the passenger seat. “I can’t believe you actually know Jack
Logan,” he said. “Only the best defenceman in the Western Conference.” He
paused. “Maybe in the entire NHL.”

Claire buckled her seat belt. “I know
him as someone else, though. I should say I thought I knew him. To me he was a
charming guy from Saskatchewan who travels a lot and sells sporting equipment.”

Cam laughed. “He does, in a way. He
travels a lot and his endorsements sell a lot of equipment.” His smile faded.
“Do you think you would have become involved with him if you’d known who he
was?”

Claire backed out of the parking space
and managed to avoid looking at her brother. “I don’t know. There was a lot of
chemistry between us.”

Cam was uncharacteristically quiet for a
few moments. “Is it serious with you two?”

“Cam! I don’t ask you about your private
life.” She pulled out into traffic. “Why do you ask?”

He seemed reluctant to answer. “Look, Claire.
I don’t really know the guy, and he seems nice enough, but he’s known as being
a player when it comes to the ladies.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of
her eye. He was blushing, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable with the
subject.

“You don’t follow hockey that closely,
so you probably don’t know this, but he’s always being photographed with a babe
on his arm. I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay?”

Her heart sank a little at this
information. Hadn’t Shelley, the woman at the coffee kiosk, mentioned a blonde?
She almost missed the turn into Cam’s street. She remained silent until she
pulled up in front of his condo, then turned to him.

“I don’t even know if that’s going to be
a problem, the way things stand right now.”

“And yet you like him, right?”

She blinked back tears. “Yes.”

“He asked me to give you this.” He
handed her the napkin. “He said you were supposed to meet this afternoon.”

She looked at the napkin, then back at
her brother. “What else did he say?”

“He said that he doesn’t usually get to
meet people without the celebrity thing getting in the way. I don’t know why
I’m sticking up for him, but I can understand where he’s coming from.”

She nodded. “I guess I can, too.” She
put on her brightest smile. “You take care of yourself, Cam. I’ll check with
you later.”

“Okay.” He opened the door. “See you
later, Sis.”

Claire drove around a bit after dropping
Cam off, and found herself in the parking lot at Kits Beach. She didn’t walk
far, just found a log to sit on and stared across the water at the high rises
of the West End.

John hadn’t lied, he’d just withheld the
truth. She smiled at the direction of her thoughts. Here she was, rationalizing
his behaviour already, the same as she had for Harrison. She watched two young
children industriously building a sand castle. As recently as yesterday, she’d
thought that she and John might build something together. A strangled laugh
rose in her throat. She didn’t even know what she should call him: John or
Jack. How was that for building trust?

One of the children stomped on the
partially finished sand castle. Is that what she wanted? To end the
relationship before it had even been built? She didn’t have to ask herself
twice.

She pulled into one of the Visitors
stalls at his condo about fifteen minutes later and jumped out before she could
change her mind. She took a deep breath and pressed the button for his suite.

“Come in, come in.” He stood back from
the door and ushered her into the foyer.

This was going to be harder than she
thought. It was all she could do not to reach for him.

He bent his knees and looked into her
eyes. “We have a few things to clear up, don’t we?”

She nodded. “First of all, what am I
going to call you?”

“Call me whatever you like, but Jack is
probably easiest.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

He showed her into the living area. The
furniture suited him; it was large and masculine. She wandered over to the
massive window overlooking the harbour. The view was unobstructed and she
watched a float plane come in for a perfect landing.

He came and stood beside her. “I’ve been
thinking about how to explain this to you and I decided that the easiest way is
to go back to when we met. You see, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who
didn’t recognize me... if not immediately, then eventually. It was great
getting to know you realizing that you hadn’t been influenced by all the hype
that goes along with being a hockey player. I knew I wanted to see you again,
but how could I explain being out of town so much? So I made up the story about
selling sports equipment.” He sucked in a deep breath and then let it out. “I
regret that most of all. That was an outright lie. As for the thing with the
name... my mother calls me John, but I’ve been answering to Jack for a long
time now.”

His voice lowered. “Will you look at me,
Claire?”

She turned.

“There is one thing I didn’t exaggerate,
or lie about. I want to get to know you, to see where this will lead.” He ran a
hand down her arm and pulled her closer. “I’ve thought about little else ever
since we parted yesterday.”

She could feel his heart pounding. “Me
too,” she said and raised her lips for a kiss.

“Tell me you forgive me,” he whispered
as his lips closed over hers.

She gave herself over to the pleasure of
his kiss. “I forgive you.”

He led her out onto a glassed-in
balcony. “Would you like to do anything this afternoon? This is the first free
time I’ve had for a while.” He continued to hold her hand, gave it a light
squeeze. “That’s where I had to go yesterday afternoon – to practice.”

“You skate every day?”

“Just about.” He was silent for a
moment. “Speaking of skating, it will take Cam a while to get back in the
groove when he comes back, but I would imagine he knows that.” He paused. “Are
you two close?”

Cam’s warning of earlier in the day came
back to her but she shook it off. “We don’t live in each other’s pockets, but
we’re always there for each other.”

“That’s nice. Cassie and I are the same,
although we don’t see each other nearly enough.” He was staring out over the
harbour and she sensed that he was making up his mind about something. Finally
he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Claire? Especially when I
mentioned the incident.”

“I don’t know.” It suddenly struck her
that she’d been holding back, much the same as he had done. She’d love to have
his advice on the blog, but she’d promised to keep it anonymous and she never
broke her promises. “I remember being stunned when you mentioned it. I think I
was afraid I’d go off on a rant if I started talking about it.”

He grinned. “I can see that happening.
It’s one of the things I like about you. You’re passionate about the things you
believe in.”

His stomach rumbled and he looked down
in surprise. “I’m hungry. Do you want to go out for something or shall we see
what’s in the fridge?”

They wandered back inside and Claire
opened the refrigerator door. “You don’t have much,” she said. “I suppose I
could make grilled cheese sandwiches if you have any bread.”

“That I have.”

They assembled the sandwiches and Jack
grilled them while Claire made tea. As the kettle boiled, she wandered around
the living room, and paused by a shelf of pictures.

“These are nice,” she said, bending over
to look at the images. She picked one up. “This looks like some sort of
ceremony.” She walked it over to him.

“That’s the opening of the new skating
rink back home in Little Coulee.”

“Is that the name of your town? Little
Coulee?”

“Yeah.” He tapped the photo. “That’s the
Mayor, and those other guys are some of the merchants in town, and some of the
Kinsmen. It was a real community effort.”

“You didn’t mention yourself.”

He looked away, concentrated on the
sandwiches. “I was part of it too.”

There was something about the way he
said it that made her wonder if there was more to the story than he was letting
on. She replaced the photo and picked up another. “This is a sweet picture.” It
was a photo of a boy taken from the back. He was sitting hunched over on a
rugged bench, tying up his skates. In the background, a few children skated on
a frozen pond.

He touched the glass, as though trying
to connect with the scene. “That’s me,” he said with a grin. “I still go back
there sometimes and sit on that bench. When things get crazy in this job of
mine, it helps to get my head straight.” He pointed to a small figure on the
ice. “That’s Cassie, my sister. She’s a fierce one.”