The Arrangement (New Hampshire Bears Novella) (8 page)

Chapter Twelve

Vance

Interview after interview, I keep up my excitement about the draft tomorrow. Yes I am, but Dacey weighs heavy on my mind. Since she walked away from me at the wedding, all I’ve done is work out and hide in Apollo’s spare room.

Then it came to me what I real wanker I’d been. Selfish. Inconsiderate. A downright prick is the way I describe myself. I treated Dacey worse. All my life I’d seen the way my parents were, and I promised myself it wouldn’t be me.

How quickly I forgot?

For all my life, my parents have put on this façade of the perfect family. It’s all been lies, and we knew it. Their word means nothing to me, but I want to be better. If, or when, I have kids I want to support them, care for them, and above all, love them.

And their mother.

As I finish my last interview, Gerald leads me back to the hotel. We find Mum and all the girls in the restaurant located in the hotel.

“Where’s Dad and Apollo?” Gerald asks as I blatantly stare at Dacey.

She’s gorgeous sitting there in her pink blouse with her strawberry blonde hair flowing around her. I desperately want to talk more with her, but won’t be doing it in front of my family. This is something we need to do alone. Our future no longer involves them. No matter what they think.

“I’m going to change,” I announce still staring at Dacey hoping she follows so we can talk.

As I walk into the room, I jerk off my tie and hang up the jacket before sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off my button down. The reality of my life suddenly hits me. I’m about to be drafted. At least, I’m hoping and praying I will be.

All my hard work has been for this moment. The question is where will I go? Several teams have contacted Gerald about me, but we’ve not figured out which team wants me the most. I know the stories of promising draftees who never find a home in the PHL.

“Are you okay?”

I whip my head up and see Dacey in front of me. Her cheeks are pink, and I notice she’s trying not to stare at my chest.

“I’m good.” I stand. “I want to continue our talk.”

“Not shirtless,” she whispers.

“It’s not the first time you saw me without shirt.” I remind her with a smirk.

“I was thirteen when I first saw you shirtless.” Her face turns a deeper shade of red.

“We went on holiday with both of our families in France.” I smile at the memory. It was also the first time I saw her in a bathing suit. My memory recalls her father wasn’t happy, but it was something I’ll always remember.

“You’re bigger now.” She’s still whispering. “Guess all the training helps.”

“It does.” My smirk deepens. This is the Dacey I know: Cute, meek, shy, and always blushing. I’m happy to see she’s still in there. “I’ll go change since I’m making you uncomfortable. I don’t want to that.”

She nods, stepping to the side to let me pass.

When I come out a few moments later, I’m in a comfortable pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I intentionally left my belt open and top button of the jeans undone. Just to work a small rise out of Dacey.

Mean of me?

Yes, but she seems to be more herself when I make her a little uncomfortable. She sits in the chair, and I take my place on the bed. We need to talk about the sleeping arrangements too. I’m sure I’ll be on the floor or in the chair.

“How were the interviews?”

“They all seemed to go well.” I nod. “Where did Mum drag you off to?”

“A mall, of sorts. I didn’t have a choice.” She shrugs.

“I’m sure you did not.” Mum doesn’t take no for an answer from anyone. “I hope you had fun at least.”

“I’m thinking it more like an interrogation.” She stifles a laugh.

“Sorry,” the sad tone is overwhelming from me. “I know it couldn’t have been fun.”

She shrugs again. “Do you know where you’re going yet?”

“I don’t know for sure. Gerald thinks it’ll be between Las Vegas, Nebraska, or New Hampshire.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Vegas would be cool, but New Hampshire is the ideal fit.” We were quiet for a moment and I finally ask, “No matter where I go, you’ll come with me right?”

Dacey looks out our window and says nothing.

“I want you to. We could get married when we get back to Belfast. Be in America by training camp.”

She still doesn’t look at me, making me worry.

“Van—”

A pounding on the door interrupts her. I growl, standing up to answer the door. I find Dad on the other side of it with a beer in his hand.

“Listen,” he pushes his way through. I notice he’s dressed casually in jeans and a polo. “I need you both right now.”

“Why?” I shut the door.

“This fuck who I’m dining with is a fucking hockey nut.” He cusses louder and takes a big swig of beer. “I told him about you and since he’s got fucking hard-on for family values, I told him about you too.” He nods and glances at Dacey.

“I’ll go.” I sigh. “I’ll play the perfect son.” As I always do.

“Yes, you fucking will. I need this so I can finish buying off the block to put up a plaza. And I need Dacey too.” He goes to grab at her, but I jump in between them.

“I said I’ll go. I know how to play along. Dacey doesn’t need to be subjected to you.”

“Get it through your thick, dumb skull: family values.” He reeks of alcohol, and I figure he’s been drinking all morning.

“I’ll go.” Dacey jumps up behind me. “Please, stop yelling, and I’ll go.”

“You both have five minutes to get your asses downstairs to the bar.” He pokes my chest and rushes out the door.

I turn to Dacey. “You don’t have to go.”

“It’s fine.”

I take a deep breath, pushing my hands through my hair. “If you do go, then just play along. Try laughing at Dad’s jokes and smiling. Mum does that a lot, and it works.”

She nods and I say a quick prayer nothing goes wrong.

Just before we walk in, I stop her. “Okay, if this guy is about family values, then we need to pretend to be in love.”

She looks at me for a beat before taking my hand. “Then we’re in love.” Her voice is shaking.

“If it gets too bad for you, just say you’re not feeling well, okay?”

She nods, and I give her hand a small squeeze. We walk in together and see Dad with a bald man around his age. Dad’s hair plugs have held tight and only a few people know he’s had them done.

“Dad.” I put on my best fake smile and he stands to hug me and kisses Dacey’s cheeks.

“Ryan, let me introduce you to my youngest son and one of the PHL’s top draftees, Vance. And next to him my future daughter, Dacey. Kids, this is Ryan McDaniels, owner of Verse Corporation.”

We all shake hands with greetings before taking our seats. I order a scotch and Dacey a white wine. The conversation dives into hockey right away. Mr. McDaniels is a huge fan and we are in-depth analyzing players, games, and teams. It’s actually nice to talk to someone who understands the difference between a backhand, forehand, and a deke.

“What about you, Dacey?” Mr. McDaniels asks. “Which teams do you like the most?”

I’m suddenly nervous if she’ll be able to pull this off and I glance at Dad who’s the same.

“Well,” she puts her wine glass down. “I’m partial to the Portland Kings. Their captain is amazing on and off the ice. Next to that, probably the Alabama Blacksmiths. Their win in the final game kept me on the edge of my seat.”

I’m dumbfounded.

“So, you’re able to watch games in Ireland?” Mr. McDaniels seems impressed.

“Yes,” Dacey smiles. “I have a PHL subscription, and I catch clips and highlights through Facebook and YouTube.”

“Resourceful.” Mr. McDaniels grins. “Do you have a favorite team?”

“Of course. The one who drafts Vance.” She softly giggles, and we all laugh.

Throughout the next hour, I learn more about Dacey and her love of hockey. Her knowledge is uncanny. After another round of alcohol, there is more laughter and talk of hockey.

When the drinks are gone, and Mr. McDaniels agrees to do business with Dad, Dacey and I decide to leave and go eat. As we walk out, we still holds hands all the way out the way of the hotel.

Chapter Thirteen

Dacey

Vance holds the chair for me as I sit down. “What’s this place?”

“Just a hole-in-the-wall, as they say.”

“What?”

“A family restaurant,” he explains, sitting across from me.

The place is small, smells of grease, and doesn’t seem to be the cleanest of establishments, but Vance’s face glows with happiness. I’m not exactly sure why.

The waitress comes over and takes our drink order. I stick with water since I already had wine. I have no plans on getting smashed tonight.

“I’m getting a chicken sandwich. What about you?”

“I think a simple salad will be fine.” I flip through the menu again to see if I missed anything.

“That’s it?” He put his down and looks at me. “You can get whatever you like.”

“A salad,” I confirm and the waitress appears for us to give her our order.

When she leaves again, Vance rests his arms on table, leaning forward. “Thank you for this evening. Helping Dad out. You didn’t have to.”

“I did nothing for him.”

Vance furrows his brow.

“I did it for you.”

“What?”

“I went for you. My eyes have been opened to your parent’s behavior. No offense. I can’t handle your father’s words toward you anymore.”

It made me ill to hear his tone and belittling attitude toward Vance. There’s no need for it. Vance has his good points, and I’m aware of his bad. But those are our hang-ups and what we need to work through.

“Thank you, Dacey. That means a lot to me.” He gives me a sincere smile. “Um…do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“When did you start liking hockey so much?”

Deep down I knew that would be the question. “My arranged loves it. It’s his one true passion. If I wanted to be part of his life, I had to know about it as well.” I should have stopped, but, “I thought one day you and I would talk more, and I could tell you, but it never happened.”

Vance grips my hand. “It’ll all change. I promise. I swear.” He holds on tightly. “I’ll beg if I have to if you’ll give me another chance.”

I need to tell him I already made my decision, but I’m waiting until tomorrow evening after the draft. He has enough stress going on and I don’t want to be the cause of more.

“I want us to talk this all though and come to a conclusion,” he pushes.

I make an effort to smile and change the subject to hockey. I tell him about the games I’ve watched and the teams I like, figuring he would rather talk about it than us. Or more likely, me.

When our food comes, Vance goes into detail about his workout routine and training. I knew he worked out a lot, but he’s over the top.

When we finish our food, Vance takes my hand again, and we stroll back to the hotel. It’s later than I realize when we walk into the room. I’m suddenly tired. I lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

“I’m going to get ready for bed, and don’t worry I’ll sleep on the floor.” Vance grabs his clothes and steps into the bathroom.

I jump off the bed and quickly change into my shorts and tank top before he comes out in pajama bottoms. His chest and abs can make a blind woman come.

He grabs a couple of pillows and asks for the top cover, but I stop him.

“Sleep in the bed, just don’t try anything.” I pull the covers down and crawl under.

“Dacey, are you sure?”

“Yes.” I turn away from him, clicking off the light,

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I quickly turn and sit up, facing Vance. The anger bubbling over. “Uncomfortable? Why do you even care? Because it doesn’t matter. I’m already tainted because you can’t keep your pants zipped. So, there’s no reason for you to care about my feelings now.”

“Dacey, I do care.”

“No, you don’t and you know what,” I sigh. “I don’t why I care either. You want me to give you a second chance, but did we have a first chance?” He starts to say something, but I keep going. “We never went out on proper dates. We had one kiss that I count, but like everything else, it’s tainted as well. Do you know what it’s like to be a girl listening to everyone else gossiping about their boyfriends and such? All the while the boy I’m supposed to marry is sticking it to a girl across the globe. And what’s worse than all that is the time I spent learning hockey for you. Now, I like it, and all it’s going to do is remind me of you when I leave.” I yank the covers up and turn over on my side away from him.

“So you’re going to leave? You’re going to end this?” His voice cracks, but I say nothing as the tears sting my eyes. “I shouldn’t be surprised. My whole entire family lies on the daily; why would you be different?”

I want to scream at him and explain to him how different I am, but I close my eyes, praying the tears don’t fall. I feel the bed shift and Vance lays down. It’s going to be a long time before I fall asleep.

Vance and I don’t utter a single word to each other from the moment we wake up, meet his family downstairs, and walk into the arena where the draft is being held. An usher meets us and takes Vance with him while we head off to our seats.

Vance’s family is picture perfect as always. Mrs. Pemberton places us in the seats setting the order for Vance to hug when his name is announced. She gives me an extra stern look. I know the meaning behind it; it meant I best hug him.

Everyone is talking, laughing, and gleeful all around me; I stare at the jumbotron. The draftee’s names and potential teams scroll through. Vance looks to be heading to Vegas. According to Goggle, it the City of Sin, and it seems fitting for him.

I came to America with Vance because I didn’t want any regrets, but being here has set my priorities straight. His family is beyond nuts and fake. I can’t be around people like this. And what if Vance is faking? Could everything he’s saying be lies?

But why?

None of it matters, now. I’ll be leaving tomorrow night. We’ll say our goodbyes or maybe just part ways. When I get back to Belfast, I’ll find a job and start anew.

Vance comes up the steps. He’s nervous; paler than normal, he keeps rubbing his hands together. Mrs. Pemberton directs Vance to his seat and I hear her tell him to kiss her cheeks when his name is called.

He gives me a small smile before sitting down next to me. He rubs his hands hard on his thighs and keeps fiddling with his tie.

“I guess you’re going to Vegas,” I lean over and whisper. We’ve not talked all day, but maybe I can distract him a bit.

“There or New Hampshire.” He wipes his brow.

“You’re going to be fine.” I feel compelled to reassure him.

“Thanks.” He nods.

We go back to our normal silence until the PHL commissioner comes on stage, and he grabs my hand. I can feel him shaking and give him a gentle squeeze.

The first, second, and third picks go as planned, and now, Vance’s leg is bouncing up and down. His palm is still sweating and now latched even tighter to mine.

“We’re announcing a trade for the fourth pick of the PHL Draft.”

I hear Vance groan next to me.

“The New Hampshire Bears have traded Patrick Ago to the Las Vegas Gamblers for the fourth pick. The Bears are on the clock.”

Vance’s leg bounces harder and Mrs. Pemberton, with a smile on her face, tells him to stop, which he does. I lay my other hand over our joined hands. He looks over at me and grins. I want to tell him this doesn’t change anything, but I leave it alone as the commissioner steps up to the mic, calling for the Bears to come up to the stage.

The Bears’ General Manager, whose name I don’t catch, comes to the mic and clears his throat. “The New Hampshire Bears would like to welcome CHL’s forward, Vance Pemberton.”

We all jump and cheer as Vance, more calmly, stands. He hugs his brothers, sisters-in-law, and then his parents, before kissing me softly on the lips and heading toward the stage.

Pride fills me, seeing him on stage posing for pictures in his new brown and gold jersey. He made it. He set a goal, worked hard, and achieved it.

Gerald informs us Vance will be heading off to interviews, pictures, and other activities. He tells us we need to go to the family room. We gather and head to an upper level.

The room has food and drinks and the Pembertons are chatting up others in the room. I grab a bottle of water and go to the other side of the room, sitting on a big red couch. I don’t want to be around everyone right now. I simply sit, gazing at the happy crowd, sipping my water.

More families and friends join the room, and it becomes louder with happiness and excitement. I find myself wondering what will happen when I get back to Belfast. My plan is to find a job: simple enough. Mum and Dad have the apartment paid up until the end of summer. I’m sure I’ll have an income by then, and I can keep the place or maybe find something smaller, since two bedrooms will be too much. My head begins to spin at all that seems to be coming ahead. Six months ago, I’d planned on being married before summer’s end and coming to America with Vance, but look at it all now.

“May I join you?”

I glance up from the label I’d been picking at to see Vance in his Bears jersey and shirt looking down at me.

“Of course and congratulations.” I do my best put on a true smile.

“You don’t have to pretend, Dacey.” Vance calls me out and sits next to me.

“I’m proud of you.”

He nods. “Thanks.” He gazes at the now overcrowded room and then back at me. “Would you do me a favor?” He leans close to me. “Please come with me? I just want a few hours of your time. I want to discuss something with you, and if you absolutely want to leave then we’ll part ways, but please, I’m begging.”

His blue eyes are wide and staring intently at me. I can hear in his tone how serious he is.

“Okay,” I agree, unsure what the next few hours will bring.

He stands, taking my hand and leading us out of the arena, where he hails down a taxi. We go back to the hotel, where Vance tells me to change into something comfortable. I pick jeans, flats, and t-shirt and quickly get ready.

He takes my hand again and leads us out to the front of the hotel where he hands a ticket to the valet. It’s funny to me because we didn’t valet a car. But, sure enough, a car pulls up and Vance opens the door for me.

Once I’m in my seat and comfortable, Vance takes off toward the interstate. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me, okay.” He flashes me a smile and speeds forward.

Vance begins to talk about the interviews he had to do after being drafted. He’s oozing with excitement knowing he finally has a team and the nervousness is now gone.

After just over an hour of Vance driving and my hesitating to ask where we’re going every five minutes, we arrive at one place I never expected.

“This is the Bears’ Arena?” I point to the massive building.

“Yes.” He turns a corner and drives around to the back where a security guard stands. “Vance Pemberton. Keaton Jaco is expecting us.”

The guard looks at the clipboard, nods, and then directs Vance where to go.

“What are we doing?” I ask. “How did you know how to get here?”

“I’ve been here a lot in my time here. The Bears arena hosts a lot of events.” He pulls into a concrete parking garage, and I notice a big black truck with a guy sitting in the back, staring at his phone. Vance pulls up next to him and we both get out of the car.

“Leprechaun.” Keaton Jaco jumps from the truck. “How’s your day?”

“Great.” They shake hands. “Thanks for helping me out. I owe you.”

“Nah.” He waves his hand. “I’m just curious how you got away.”

Vance shrugs. “You know we’re magical.”

Keaton laughs. “You must be the famous Dacey I’ve heard so much about.”

“I’m Dacey,” I confirm.

“This is Keaton Jaco. We trained together this summer.” Vance explains as Keaton and I shake hands. I know who he is because he’s one of the top defensive men in the PHL.

“Okay, V., everything is waiting for you on the bench and you only have thirty minutes. Sorry man, it’s all I can spare.”