The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance (8 page)

BOOK: The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance
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He looked up as she neared the till, catching her gaze for a split second, his azure orbs filled with censure. The hope rising in her chest plummeted to earth like a wounded sparrow when he simply paid for his purchase and turned away. Left her. She watched him hop into his limo without acknowledging her or even casting a backward glance.

Ironically, it seemed their relationship was to both begin and end over a dollar’s worth of doughnuts.

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

“Sophia!” Eloise screamed, her throat hurting from calling out for hours. “Sophia!”

Cold. Wet. Inconsolable.

Twigs snapped beneath her feet. A nefarious howl in the distance – splitting her ears in half. Only the wind, she told herself. Scared, so scared. She couldn’t see the path in the darkness, couldn’t see the naked branches that reached out to scrape her bare arms like witches’ claws. Hannah bawled her head off as Eloise dragged her in tow.

“Sophia, where are you?”

Her foot struck something solid, and she stumbled forward, falling against the cold stones of the bridge footings.

“Ellie,” a tiny voice whimpered.

Sophia. The name popped up in stark white on the phone’s tiny screen as Eloise rolled over and grabbed it off her nightstand. She was thankful to have been wakened from the awful dream and equally grateful that it was Saturday morning. A respite from the residuals after her fall from grace.

“Hey, Soph,” she croaked in her morning voice. Hoping her sister wouldn’t see right through her happy weekend charade and start demanding answers. Because she had none to give. She hated herself even more than Sheehan Murphy or Cole Fiorino hated her.

“Did I wake you?” Sophie’s smooth voice floated over her, coating her frayed nerves in sisterly solidarity. No questions asked.

Eloise rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “Yeah, but I’m glad. I was dreaming about that night you got lost in the woods behind our old house. Freaky that you called.”

Sophia fell silent for a moment. “Maybe you were dreaming about me for a reason,” she said, her voice cracking.

“What’s wrong?” Eloise asked immediately, fully awake now and in take-charge mode. She’d always been the one to look after her sisters and could tell when they were upset.

“It’s Phil,” she said, a sob forming in her throat. “We broke up yesterday.”

“Oh no, honey. I’m so sorry. You guys were together forever. I thought he’d proposed to you ages ago. What happened?”

“He said he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to be married. We were driving around in that new subdivision, looking at the Parade of Homes just for fun, you know. I started noticing all the kids’ rooms and nurseries and said how nice to have a room like that for our kids someday. He didn’t say anything then, but when the salesman started talking to us, assuming we were a married couple and talking mortgages and financing, he just snapped. He sulked in the car all the way home, and when I asked what’s wrong, he said he doesn’t want to get married. Ever.”

Eloise let out a long sigh. “That’s harsh. I’m sorry, Soph. I wish I could help, but I’ve given up trying to understand men. They just seem to do what they do, no rhyme or reason.”

Sophia sniffed back tears. “That’s not all,” she squeaked.

“It’s not?” A feeling of dread crept up Eloise’s neck, the hairs at her nape beginning to stand on end. “Tell me.”

“Oh, El, I’m so scared.”

As scared as you were when you got lost in the woods and hid under the stone bridge? As scared as I was, hunting in the dark for you, dragging Hannah behind me? As scared as I was, waking up abandoned and alone there with half my clothes off and pain so severe between my legs I puked up the remnants of half a bottle of liquor?

“The reason I was so hyper focused on the nurseries was, well…”

“Oh no, honey.” Eloise closed her eyes, fearing the words that might come next. Anticipating.
Knowing
.

Sophia audibly sobbed, trying to collect her voice. “I think I might be pregnant.”

Eloise felt a golf ball sized knot form in her throat. No. She did not just hear that. She swallowed hard. “You think? You’re not sure?”

“Not yet. I’m afraid to go to our family doctor, in case it gets back to Mom and Dad. I don’t want to break their hearts. I’m not married.”

“There’s patient confidentiality, Soph. That won’t happen. You should go. You’ll feel better once you know either way.”

“I know, I know. I don’t suppose you could come home for a few days?” her sister’s voice rose with every plea she made. “I miss you, and I could really use your company, your advice. You’ve always been the strong one, El. You always know what to do. Could you come?”

Eloise’s heart thumped in her ears, threatening to split and burst. She loved her sisters more than anything, but she couldn’t get away right now.
The strong one. Always knowing what to do
. Yeah, right. She didn’t feel so strong at the moment. And what she’d just done. Well… it was wrong on so many damn levels.

“I’ll see. Let me work on it. In the meantime, go get one of the drugstore test kits. Maybe it’ll be negative. Don’t get upset until you know, but do it quickly. How long since your last period?”

“I’ve only missed one. I’m a week late.”

Praise be to God. “Okay then, don’t worry. Get the test and call me back.”

“Okay. Okay, I…I will.” Sophia took a big breath in, her sniffles lessening. “Thanks, El. I’m sorry, I’m being selfish burdening you with all my problems. What about you, how are things going in Minnesota? Are you dating anyone?”

Eloise rolled over on her side, burrowing into the soft warmth of her duvet with the imported silk cover. Here comes the barrage of reasonable questions that seem completely unreasonable. “No. Yes. Sort of. No, I guess not.”

“Uh-oh, tell me what’s going on.” Sophie’s question rifled through the phone connection. El never could hide anything from this sister.

“There’s this guy… a player on the team.”

“You? Dating a professional hockey player? I don’t believe it.”

“We’re not dating, exactly,” Eloise said. “We’re not anything right now. He’s mad at me.”

“Go on, what’s his name?”

“Cole Fiorino. Oh, Soph, he’s so talented. He has a degree in philosophy; he plays guitar; he makes these fabulous coffee creations out of beans from all over the world. And he’s our top scorer and team captain, and OMG the most fabulous kisser. Well, maybe I’m not sure about that last part. It’s only happened once and as they say, once is luck and twice is skill.”

“You’ve kissed him? Cole Fiorino!” Sophia squealed. “He’s gorgeous. A pantie melter for sure.”

“Mm-hmm… and witty and funny and,” Eloise sighed. “bull-headed and delusional.”

“Ouch.” Eloise could almost see Sophie cringing through the phone. They should have opted for FaceTime. “Talk about crashing to earth. Have you been able to breathe yet after having that wind knocked out of you?”

“He thinks I don’t fight for my ideals. That I’m somehow less than I could be by ‘working for the man.’ It’s not wrong to be the best at your job, is it? I made a commitment to the Rochester Riot when I accepted the position. What kind of person would it make me if I allowed my personal feelings to interfere with my job performance?”

“No. You worked hard for that job. Isn’t he the best at his job too? From what you said…”

“Exactly. Yet he’s mad because I have to do what the boss tells me and accuses me of taking sides. I don’t agree with the boss, but what choice do I have? I’m against the ropes. My entire career could be imploded with just one bitchy phone call from Sheehan Murphy. I’d never work in PR again.”

“Well, I’m no one to talk, especially since things are messed up with Phil. But we all have choices, and I know what Mom would say.”

“Love is more important than work,” Eloise sighed, reciting the familiar quote. How she wished her mom were in bed with her right now. She’d cry and use her massive bosom as a fluffy pillow. “I wish life was that simple.”

“Me too,” Sophia agreed. “Thanks, El. Hope you can come home for a visit. I’ll call you back once I know the deets, love ya.”

“Love ya too, Soph.”

Eloise hung up and ditched her phone into the folds of the white lace duvet. Even though her linens were pure as the driven snow, she wasn’t. Eloise felt tainted. Brushed red with the anger of two men she hadn’t wanted to disappoint. As Sophie had said, she’d been strong for her sisters but at a deep personal cost. Sadly, she’d been in exactly the same predicament as Sophia, and was not proud of her solution all those years ago. If it hadn’t been for Miss Conway, the high school guidance counselor, Eloise shuddered to think where her life path would have taken her.

She’d stumbled home on foot after Trevor had left her unconscious under the bridge that night. By midsummer of that year, she knew something was wrong, having missed two periods all while suffering some intense morning nausea. Miss Conway understood and helped her take care of the situation. Eloise sympathized with Sophia completely. If Mom and Dad ever knew she’d had an abortion, she’d curl up and die of shame. Trevor never knew about it. And even if she’d been able to find him, he wouldn’t have cared.

He’d raped her.

Worse still, after the procedure, she’d contracted an infection and had to be put on antibiotics. It cleared up, but a few years later she came down with mono while at NYU. Her mom had come to New York for a whole semester to look after her. What Linda Robertson didn’t know was that the doctor discovered a problem with her uterus. The repeated infections had left scars and a bacterial condition. It wasn’t conclusive, but there was a chance she wouldn’t ever be blessed with kids. A fact that shattered her very soul. The prognosis became one more reason to bury herself in her studies and avoid relationships.

Because men, good men, wanted a family.

She desperately hoped Sophia’s test would come out negative because she wouldn’t wish the situation on her worst enemy, let alone one of the people she loved and admired most.

With a deep sigh, Eloise dragged herself out of bed and gazed out the window, sighing her regret so deeply a white steam of condensation formed on the cool glass. Snow still lay on the ground in most places, but the bitter chill of February had loosened its grip on the city of Rochester. Not everyone liked to jog in these conditions, but Eloise didn’t mind. She’d put a priority on keeping fit and stayed committed to her morning run year-round. It also helped to clear her mind when things were bothering her, and today was no exception.

Because a lot was bothering her.

She dressed and went down to street level, exiting the rear of the building. Inhaling the crisp air, she did a few stretches to warm up before breaking into a light jog. Her feet pounded a brisk rhythm on the partially clear pavement, wearing spiked winter cross-trainers she’d invested in at a high-end sports store. Her breath puffed out clouds of vapor in the chilly air and her arms pumped in tandem with her legs. She loved the sensation of blood and oxygen coursing through her veins. She did her best thinking while running, her mind and body in a peak state.

She picked up the pace as she turned onto the multi-use path through the park a few blocks away from her home. Soon, the endorphins would kick in and chase away the pain of her recent crash and burn. And her past.

Sophia’s phone call had awakened her on a number of levels. She’d let her past experiences lead her to believe that she didn’t need a relationship to be happy; didn’t need love or commitment; that education and career were all that mattered. All her energy had gone into those pursuits, and she had been convinced they would fulfill her. And for the most part, they did. But there would come a time when it wasn’t enough. Sophia’s distress over Phil and her dashed hopes and dreams for a family proved that. Why did love have to be so hard? Why did she habitually push away the men in her life with her cut-above attitude and her brainiac pedagogy? What did it accomplish except assuring her future loneliness?

When all her achievements and laurels lost their luster, what would be left except the people she loved and her own happiness? With tears stinging her eyes and threatening to freeze her eyelids shut, Eloise confronted the hard truth. She did want a relationship – someone to love and be loved in return – a home and family, just as her own parents had. Christ, she was going to be thirty on her next birthday. She cried harder at the realization that time was running out. She truly didn’t know if she could have children, and if not, what did she have to offer a potential partner in that regard? Antiquated thinking or not, all the successes in the world paled in comparison to that one failure.

It’s a bitter road of life that one walks alone.

By the time she finished her route and reached the steps to her building, she was taking great gasps of air between painful sobs. The ugly cry. She knew where she had to go. After showering and dressing, Eloise headed straight downtown, to
Blues & Brews
.

Her pulse accelerated as she gripped the handle of the entrance door. She had no right to be here, to expect him to be here, or to even want to see her again. But she would never know unless she walked through this door.

She stepped inside, the warm, coffee-scented air wrapping around her in greeting, enveloping her in its toasty, nutty scent. Customers dotted the interior, singles and couples and best friends grouped randomly at the bar and around tables. With a sigh of relief, she spotted Cole behind the bar, tinkering with the coffee machines, looking right at home. Eloise strode toward him.

“Hi,” she said, stopping alongside the bar. “I know I have no right to ask, and you can tell me to go to hell, but I hope you won’t. Can I talk to you?”

BOOK: The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance
5.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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