Body Check (26 page)

“Oh, I
capisce
all right.”

Janna headed back to her own office and sat down, stunned. The viciousness, the paranoia . . . clearly Jack Cowley was an insecure man. Vicious and insecure. She should feel sorry for him. But she didn't.

She felt afraid.

 

 

 

 

Being on the
road with the Blades made Janna long for her days as a publicist for
The Wild and the Free
. At least back then, travel usually meant hopping a jet to an exotic location shoot in Florida or Hawaii, even Italy. But here she was, in the dead of January in western Canada, of all places, with a bunch of hockey players and their attendant personnel. The word
exotic
wasn't quite applicable.

It was grueling, and except when she and Lou were working, boring. Much of the time was spent on private planes or buses. Usually she curled up with a book when they were in transit. But concentration was difficult: the players insisted on watching
Slapshot
over and over again, shouting out their favorite lines à la
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
. She knew it was a cult film among players and fans, but still, hearing the same dialogue repeated endlessly truly tested her nerves, which were stretched to the limit anyway.

She'd never accompanied Lou on a prolonged road trip before and was anxious about doing a good job. Every time they went to meet and grease the local press, she found herself doing her old
You can do this
chant in her head. Worse, they were in daily contact with Jack Cowley, whose hatred of her crackled down the phone lines every time she had to speak with him. She had the sense he was just waiting for her to stumble and it unnerved her, even while making her even more determined to prove to Lou he hadn't made a mistake in bringing her. The result was an over-zealousness on her part that prompted Lou to take her aside four days into the trip and say, “You're allowed to enjoy yourself, you know.”

Which she tried to do, but it was hard, especially with the Lubov case dogging them everywhere they went. She was the one who always addressed the issue with the local media, and she inevitably came away feeling exhausted and shaken. Lubov himself had taken to staring her down every time their paths crossed, his mocking gaze meant as a challenge, one she refused to rise to. To the extent that she could, she ignored him, but it wasn't always easy. Once or twice he had deliberately sat across the aisle from her on the plane or bus, making comments under his breath in Russian that were no doubt meant to disturb.

Her one comfort was that none of this was going unnoticed by Ty, who said nothing but was quietly taking it all in. Watching him on the road was an education. As was the case back home, he commanded his players' respect with authority and dignity. When one of the younger players missed a plane after a night of carousing, Ty immediately implemented an eleven P.M. curfew for the road, making sure the players adhered to it by doing a room check each night like the jail warden some of them no doubt thought he was. For once, he was doing something Kidco could be happy about.

She had been unprepared, though, for the extent to which his fame followed him outside of New York. Canada was hockey country, and Ty Gallagher was their Messiah. Everywhere they went, the team was met by a large legion of fans. Ty couldn't walk through a hotel lobby without being accosted for an autograph or being asked to pose for a picture. He had taken to ordering room service every night rather than venturing out to a restaurant with Kevin and risk having his meal interrupted repeatedly. And the women . . . God, how Janna hated the women, the way they undressed him with their eyes, ditzy little puck bunnies who thought a Wonderbra coupled with a recitation of his career stats might gain them access to hockey's most eligible bachelor. Little did they know.

Not that she and Ty were in any way obvious. They'd both agreed that delicious as it was seeing each other clandestinely, to attempt anything on the road was suicide. That didn't mean there weren't stolen moments: a longing glance here, a hand discreetly brushing a backside there. One afternoon when Janna had to bring an interview request to Ty and Kevin's room, Ty had risen from his bed and crushed her to him, his kiss fierce and desperate. It had been a wonderful surprise, but curled up alone every night in her hotel room, Janna found herself counting the days until they were back in Manhattan and could really have some fun.

 

 

Calgary was the
final game of the road trip. There was a blinding snow, and Janna couldn't believe their pilot had chosen to fly, but he did. After a nerve-wracking flight, the Blades' entourage landed with high spirits and weary bodies. They had humiliated Ottawa and been slaughtered by Montreal, bouncing back to rout both Edmonton and Vancouver. They arrived at their Calgary hotel at close to nine P.M. An early morning practice was already scheduled for seven the next day, which the PR team would have to attend as well.

Despite the late hour, Janna and Lou repaired to the hotel's restaurant to go over interview requests and grab a bite to eat. While there, Lou met up with an old friend who'd worked PR with him back when Lou could still see his feet. He joined them for dinner, he and Lou swapping nostalgic tales to which Janna felt obliged to sit and listen.

It was quarter past eleven before there was finally a lull in the conversation where she was able to excuse herself for the night. She hustled out of the restaurant and into the lobby, which remained filled with fans. It was there she spotted Lubov, chatting with two young and giddy-looking girls. She quickly averted her gaze, but it was too late. Their eyes had met and he was now excusing himself from the girls' company and moving towards her rapidly.

“Janna.”

She pretended not to hear him and strode purposefully toward the huge bank of elevators opposite the lush plants and tasteful chintz furniture of the lobby. Fighting off a tremble, she pushed a button for the third floor, but the damn elevator was taking its sweet time. Lubov was now beside her.

“Janna, I wish to speak with you.”

Janna said nothing.

“Janna—”

The elevator doors opened and Janna stepped inside. As quickly as she could, she pressed the button to close the doors. No matter—Lubov was physically holding the doors of the elevator apart and had slipped inside. They were alone now, the smell of booze seeping off him like cheap cologne.

“Your friend, it is saying in the papers now she is a big whore, no?”

Janna took a deep breath. The urge to shout was overwhelming.

“Why do you hate me so much, eh?”

“I would think that's pretty obvious.”

“No, no, you hate me before your friend do this to me. Why?”

“You're out past curfew, Alexei, and you're drunk. You better get to your room before Captain Gallagher finds you.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

The elevator doors opened on the third floor.

“I'm not going to,” Janna replied, feeling genuinely nervous as he followed her out of the elevator. “You're on the wrong floor, Alexei.”

“No,” he insisted, “is right floor. I am going to stay on this floor until you speak to me.”

Janna began briskly walking toward her room. “Leave me alone or I'll call security.”

Lubov laughed. “Yes, call them, tell them lies like your whore friend. You think anyone will believe you?”

Janna remained silent. She was close to her room now, but there was no way she was going to risk opening the door with him baiting her. She stopped in the middle of the hall.

“What do you want?”

“To tell you your friend is a liar,” he said, weaving on his feet.

“You already told me that before Christmas.”

“To ask why you never wanted to go with me. All the women want, yet you? No. I am so nice to you on the train that time, and you do nothing. I don't like that.”

“Too bad.”

He took a step toward her. “I'm thinking you're very pretty, Janna.”

“Janna? Lex? What the hell is going on?”

At the sound of Ty's voice, Janna's heart, which had been creeping up her throat, plummeted back down to her chest where it belonged.
Thank God
, she thought gratefully.
Thank God
.

Lubov staggered back, turning to face Ty and Kevin Gill, who was accompanying him on his rounds.

“It's past curfew, Lubov,” said Kevin. “What are you doing out here?”

“Janna invited me to her room, she say she want to speak with me,” he lied in a pleading voice.

“Bullshit,” said Ty. His eyes darted to Janna.

“Is true,” Lubov insisted.

“How much have you had to drink, Alex?” asked Kevin. Lubov shrugged. “You realize you're gonna be fined, right?”

“So?” Lubov sneered. “I'm rich.”

Ty and Kevin exchanged troubled glances. “What are you doing on this floor?” Kevin asked again. “You're up on the fifth.”

“I told you—”

“Can the cock-and-bull story,” Ty growled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came for the very beautiful Janna,” Lubov purred drunkenly. “Look at her. Look at that hot little ass.” He groped drunkenly toward her breasts. “And those ti—”

Boom! He was down on the carpet, Ty's fist connecting with his jaw before he even knew what hit him. Janna watched, frozen, as Ty picked him up by the collar and pinning him against the wall, held him there.

“If I ever—ever—hear you talk to or about a woman that way, if you ever lay another hand on a woman without her consent, I will make your life such a misery you'll wish you were back in Mother Russia standing in the goddamn bread line. Are we clear?”

Eyes rolling up in his head, Lubov barely managed a dazed nod. When Ty released him, he slid down the wall like a limp rag doll.

“Get up,” Kevin barked. When Lubov didn't move, Kevin moved to help him. Lubov twisted out of his grasp, muttering. He maneuvered himself onto all fours, then slowly, unsteadily, rose to his feet. When he was upright, Kevin grabbed him and began pulling him toward the elevator.

“I'll see to it that our star Russian player gets back to his room safe and sound,” he called to Ty and Janna. As the elevator doors opened, he pushed Lubov inside.

Alone now with Ty in the silent hallway, Janna exhaled deeply. Her lungs hurt. She felt as if she'd been holding her breath a long time. She looked up at him. His face was ashen.

“You okay?” he asked. Janna nodded. He glanced up and down the hall, and seeing it was safe, drew her to him for a quick embrace, tenderly kissing the top of her head.

“I'm so sorry you had to see that,” he said, releasing her. A look of pain flitted across his handsome face.

“I'm glad you guys showed up when you did. God only knows what would have happened.”

“Something's got be done about him,” he said half aloud. “He keeps on this way, and something else is going to happen. We've all worked too hard to let a scum like Lubov destroy our equilibrium and put team morale in jeopardy.” He shook his head in disgust. “I should have taken care of this earlier.”

“What are you going to do?”

“No need to worry about that right now. In the meantime, if that sleaze comes within a foot of you when I'm not around, you let me know.”

With that he walked her to her hotel room, and stealing a quick kiss, said goodnight.

 

 

“I don't understand,”
Theresa said to Janna. “Why does Ty want to talk to me?”

The two women were bundled in the back of a cab on their way to Ty's apartment, the foreign-born cab driver clearly unfamiliar with driving on ice as the cab fishtailed erratically down Seventh Avenue. Despite the foot of snow that had been dumped on the city, the sidewalks of midtown were still three deep with tourists.

The team had flown back into town three days earlier, their road trip a triumph. Though there were still three and a half months left in the official season before Playoffs began, buzz was strong that the Blades were going to repeat and win the Cup. Lou had warned Janna that if she thought she was busy now, just wait until the Playoffs began. Janna welcomed the challenge, especially if it meant more time out of the office and away from the poisonous Jack Cowley.

As promised, he'd planted the item about Theresa's “appetite for athletes and actors” a few days after she and Lou had left for the road. Though Theresa's attorney was quick to respond, the damage was done, sowing more seeds of doubt about Theresa's character. It killed Janna that all the bad press about Theresa was being floated by her office. Luckily, Theresa understood that Janna had nothing to do with it and further, that she could in no way control it. Were it otherwise, their friendship would be in serious jeopardy. As it was, Janna found herself apologizing to Theresa constantly, unable to shake her own feelings of guilt by association.

When Ty had asked if she could bring Theresa by so he could talk to her about something, she was skeptical.

“You're not going to ask her to drop the suit, are you?”

Ty had been typically stone-faced, repeating his request. She ran it by Theresa, who was dubious at first, but in the end acquiesced to Janna, who thought it was worth hearing him out, even if she herself was in the dark about the precise subject matter. Obviously, it was related to Lubov.

Their cab literally slid to a halt a few feet past Ty's apartment building, and Janna and Theresa scrambled out of the back, eager for terra firma. Ty's building loomed high above them, a black glass monolith, delicate yet imposing. Braced against the biting cold, they hustled inside, the doorman greeting Janna with a knowing nod as he phoned upstairs to Ty. Theresa was impressed.