The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Eloise could barely open her eyes the next morning, a thick crust of dried tears stuck them together. She rubbed at them with her fingertips, her whole face feeling swollen and misshapen from sobbing half the night. Memories of both joy and pain from the previous evening filtered into her waking brain. How did her life go from success and optimism to such total misery in just a handful of weeks?
Men!
They were the cause of everything bad, from wars to unwanted pregnancies.

Cole had said goodnight, but not goodbye. The look on his face as he’d left her bedroom would haunt her forever. A portrait of disappointment, lost faith, and helplessness. It had stabbed her to the core knowing she’d poured her heart out, revealed her innermost fears and secrets to him, and he’d just turned away. She hoped some thread of reason, of desire for her, remained and would bring him back to the real world. One that wasn’t full of idealistic rainbows, angels, and blessed virgins. Where bad people did bad things for their own selfish gain.

Her rationalizations didn’t make her feel any better. She grabbed her cell phone from her cream-colored Michael Kors handbag on the floor. It lay next to the discarded pile of clothing from the night before, and tears threatened to begin anew.

There were missed calls from Sophia and Kylie. She dialed Sophia first, chastising herself for not being available when her sister needed her. A trip to Columbus just wasn’t feasible with the team nearing the end of the regular season and vying for a playoff spot. She hoped Sophia would understand.

“Hi, El,” Sophia’s voice answered brightly.

“Hi, Soph, sorry I missed your call. So, did you get the test done? What happened?” Sophia’s tone of voice suggested good news. “I’ve been concerned since I didn’t get a text from you right away.”

“It’s negative. If these things are reliable, and if I did it right, it’s negative.”

Eloise sighed in relief. “Good. See? Told you not to worry until you were sure. These things can happen for lots of reasons. How’s Phil? Have you talked to him?”

Sophia paused. “A couple of times, but he decided to take a ski trip for a few days in Colorado. Hope that mile-high air will clear his head.” She sighed audibly.

“I’m sure it will, Soph. He loves you, you’ve been together so long. He just needs a little–”

“Don’t say time,” Sophia interrupted. “If I hear that phrase once more, I’m gonna puke. He’s had years of time.”

Eloise chuckled. “I was going to say, a kick in the ass. Guys are like mules with blinders on. Slow, stubborn and can only see one path ahead. Usually, the one their mom paved along her road of good intentions.”

Sophia laughed. “I thought you said you’d given up trying to understand men.”

“I didn’t say I understood. I’m just reporting my observations.”

“Thanks, El. For being there for me and Hannah. Always.”

“Hey, you’d do the same for me. I’m sorry I can’t come to Ohio. Work is just too busy right now.”

“I understand. Love ya.”

“Love ya too. Bye.”

Eloise disconnected and took a big breath in, then let it out again. One problem solved. Next. She hit return on Kylie’s call.

“Where’d you go last night?” Kylie’s voice came across the connection in a rush.

Not even a hello from her trusty PA. She had a knack for getting straight to the point, Eloise gave her that. “Well, good morning to you too,” she teased.

“Good morning,” Kylie backtracked. “I assume it’s good? You left with Cole.” A pause, then her voice came back in a whisper. “He’s not listening right now, is he?”

“No. He’s not here.”

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed,” Eloise commented.

“I’m disappointed for you,” Kylie said.

“Don’t be. Everything’s fine.”

A sigh. “When someone says ‘everything’s fine’ it usually isn’t. C’mon, you know you can’t hide anything from me. Fess up.”

“Later. How was your evening?” Eloise asked, changing the course of the conversation.

“Great! I actually
sang
on stage. I can’t believe I did that.”

Eloise laughed. “I’m glad I missed out on your Alanis Morissette impersonation.”

“I didn’t do her. I did Adele.”

“Oy. Even better that I left or else we might be
Turning Tables
on a new job for you.”

“Hey. Like you said, don’t knock it til you try it, she-who-sits-at-the-top-of-the-mountain.”

“Touché. I noticed you didn’t bring any of your ‘several’ boyfriends to the party,” Eloise said. “Meet anyone interesting?”

“Oh. Well. I guess I was exaggerating when I said several.”

“Uh-huh. Thought so.”

“And anyway, I think I’m into bald guys now.”

“Really.” Eloise smiled. “How odd.”

“Anyway, I had something to tell you before you left so rudely.”

“Right. Well, I’m all ears now.”
And tears. Rhymes with ears
.

“Okay, you know the guy that owns the place, you said his name’s Troy or something?”

Yup. I know him. A rose by any other name – still stinks and has thorns that will poke you in the ass.

“What about him?” Eloise asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Well, I overheard him and the bartender guy, and a few others talking about a petition against Murphy’s bar – or no, wait, a
coalition
, that’s it, of business owners, to try and have it shut down. Sounded like they are planning something sneaky for opening night. I thought you should know.”

Eloise frowned. Terrific. Solve one problem and two others sprouted up to replace them. If problems were plants, that’d be a happy circumstance. “Thanks for the heads up, Kyles. You’ve just earned your paycheck for the week.”

Kylie scoffed. “Paycheck? How about a bonus or a raise? Even a caramel macchiato?”

“Don’t push your luck, Mata Hari. See you at the office.”

“See ya. And when I do, you owe me all the deets from last night!”

Eloise ended the call and tossed the phone across the room. Her life was turning to shit right before her puffy, reddened eyes.

***

Shredder looked at his cards in disgust. “Fold,” he said, throwing them face down on the green felt surface. Cole kept his poker face immutable as always and glanced at Jones, the next player to Shredder’s right.

“Call,” Jones said. “Let’s see your hand, Fiorino.”

Cole laid down the cards. “Royal flush,” he said in a whiny, know-it-all voice. The two players to his left both groaned and threw their cards down, a collection of low pairs and straight flushes. Rubbing his hands together, Cole laughed like a pirate then scooped the chips from the center into his own pile.

“You lucky fuck,” Jones said, a jealous grin on his face. “I’m out next game. I’m done being your pigeon,” he joked.

“Suit yourself,” Cole said, throwing Shred a knowing glance.

The game broke up, the players returning to their seats on the team bus as it rolled north on Highway 52 toward St. Paul. With Rochester only an hour and a half to the south, the team didn’t fly in for games at the Xcel Center. Shredder folded up the portable poker top they carried with them on road trips and put it away. “You are one lucky son of a bitch, Cole, gotta tell ya.”

“Ah, that’s just it,” Cole said. “Luck. I don’t have a monopoly on it. You can’t predict it, catch it, or keep it. It either comes your way, or it doesn’t.”

“Hmm. Sounds a lot like women. And I noticed you don’t have any trouble with that, either,” Shredder said.

Cole shrugged and spread his hands wide. “That’s why they call it Lady Luck.”

“Huh. Let’s hope the Lady is with us against the Wild.”

“We just play our game, Shred. Stick to the plan and it’ll come out all right.”

“Speaking of ladies, are you and Eloise Robertson an item? I saw you two leave the
Brews
together last week.”

Cole looked up from sorting the chips and cards back into a silver case. “So. You’ve seen me leave with lots of chicks, Shred. No big deal. Doesn’t mean I don’t leave them at the curb.”

Shredder tilted the shiny dome of his head. “Not from corporate, I don’t. From the model agencies and hospitality crews, yes. But a suit? What’s up with that? She’s probably sucking Murphy’s cock to keep him happy.”

Cole slid the metal case into an overhead bin then relaxed back into his seat. On his way down, he slapped Shred on the top of his shiny scalp. “Don’t talk about Eloise that way, asshat. She’s a lady, not a whore. Not that it’s any of your business, but nothing’s up with her. I’m not seeing her.”

“That’s a good thing, man. Never date anyone you work with. First rule of the front office.”

Cole screwed up his face. “Y’know… I’ve never known why everyone always says that – don’t date a co-worker. What’s so terrible about it? It gives you something in common right from the get-go. You spend most of your waking time at work, it makes sense that’s how you’d meet someone.”

“Hey, I’m not criticizing. We don’t have a regular-type job, Cole, in case you haven’t noticed. We meet women everywhere. You’re living, pussy-licking proof.”

Cole scoffed. “Yeah. Well. The low-hanging fruit is always easiest to pick.”

Shredders eyebrows went up, creating triple ridges on his shaved forehead. It reminded Cole of a little Shih Tzu or Bulldog. “So, you want the ones at the top of the tree, do you? You’ll need a ladder. A corporate one,” Shredder said with a waggle of his bushy eyebrows. “Remember. What goes up, must come down.”

Cole waved his hand in dismissal. “Maybe you’re right. Our lives are too different. Guess I’ll have to get a copy of Ryder’s catalog.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Shred leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Listen, Cole. Most of the team can’t tell when you’re bluffing, but I can. If Eloise means something to you, and it sounds like she does, you gotta go for it. Forget what the guys say, or the coach, or your parents. Differences are what make things interesting. It’d be a boring world if we were all the same.”

Like the girls in Ryder’s fictitious catalog,
Cole thought with a smirk.
Boring.
He had to admit it’s what drew him to Eloise. She was different. Smart. Took initiative; had more in her mental cupboard than powdered doughnuts, for sure. Plus, it didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous, with the kind of figure that he worshiped, the kind that swerved in and out in all the right places.

In many ways, she reminded him of his mother, a strong-minded brunette beauty with strong convictions. Ironic that he should compare the two; when it was his mother’s deep-rooted faith creating part of his issue over El.

Christ, some subliminal Oedipus complex much?

He shuddered. The Catholic Church would have a heyday over that one. He loved his mom, but in a completely different way.

In Eloise’s bed, he’d had the most incredible sex ever. He’d happily make love to her every night for the rest of his life if she hadn’t dropped that abortion bomb on him. And it wasn’t her fault. It tore at his soul that his friend, someone he knew and trusted, had committed such a heinous act. He knew things could never be the same between him and Trey from now on. Worse still, Trey may have scarred Eloise for life. To never have children? His family would be so disappointed. Theresa Fiorino would spend all day in church, praying for grandbabies. But then, prayer had certainly worked for his family in the past. Perhaps it would again. Hadn’t they made leaps and bounds in the infertility field in recent years?

He should have asked Eloise about it. He should have asked Eloise about everything. Instead, he’d run from her during the time she’d needed him most. Like some kind of immature, selfish asshole. Because he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know what to say.

I don’t know how I feel.

“Almost there,” Shredder said, glancing out the window as the Twin Cities loomed on the horizon.

Cole stood up in the aisle and cleared his throat. “Brothers, Riot. You know
Guys and Dolls
?”

Shred turned to face Cole. “I presume you mean the musical. I guess I’d rather hear you sing than quote Shakespeare.”

Cole smiled and nodded, started to snap his fingers in a swing-beat. He took in a deep breath and started to sing
Luck be a Lady.

Some of the guys nearby groaned. But most … they joined in until the team bus sounded like a wounded moose laying in the middle of the road.

***

The week-long road trip came to an end with a 2-1-1 record for the Riot. They were still killing it in the standings and nearly assured of a playoff berth, but with March nearly in the record books, there weren’t a lot of regulation games left. They needed every win and every point they could get. The team bus dropped Cole and Shredder off at the apartment they shared. The team staff would have their equipment cleaned and moved into the dressing room at the arena.

“Man, I’m bagged,” Shredder said, hauling his personal luggage into his bedroom. “Think I’ll turn in.”