Page 26 of For the Boys
They made it to Lexie’s door, and Berkley walked inside first, heading right for the refrigerator and the bottle of tequila Lexie kept in the freezer.
She pulled it out and opened the cabinet door for a shot glass, which she filled to the top and downed without preamble.
“Okay,” Mitch said, watching her with wide eyes, “what the fuck is going on?”
“Parker tried to assault me,” Berkley said, her voice cracking on the word “assault.”
“He WHAT?” Lexie and Mitch yelled simultaneously.
Though all she wanted to do was curl up on the couch and pass out, she recounted the events of her cab ride as Lexie and Mitch listened in horror.
“I’ll kill him,” Mitch said, starting toward the door.
“No, Mitch, please don’t,” Berkley pleaded, rushing forward to grab his arm. “I can’t have anyone finding out.”
“And why the hell not?” Lexie asked. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t let Mitch go to his place right now and rip his balls from his body.”
Berkley couldn’t help it; she giggled at that, a pathetic sound without any real emotion behind it. “Lexie, think about it. No one is going to believe me, for starters. Second, it’s just not worth it. Nothing happened. I’m okay, if shaken up. I’m safe. All I want to do is curl up on the couch and watchClueless,” she said.
“I love that movie,” Mitch said quietly.
“Me too.” Berkley gave him a sad smile. “So let’s just forget about this and move on.”
“Are you sure you don’t need anything from us? Like Mitch taking Parker’s head off?”
“What I need from you both is to just sit with me and keep me company. I can’t be alone right now. That’s why I didn’t go home.”
“We can do that,” Mitch said quickly. Lexie raised an eyebrow at him, dubious.
Berkley gave him a grateful smile as Lexie went to her room in search of pajamas for Berkley to wear. “I bet you didn’t think you’d be spending the night taking care of some semi-hysterical female you just met,” Berkley said.
“Not all that different from a typical weekend in the life of Mitch Frambough,” he said, winking at her. “Besides, one of my teammates tried to assault you, Berkley. The least I can do for you is be a shoulder to lean on.”
“Thank you, Mitch. It means a lot.”
Mitch gave her a small smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. “My pleasure.”
Berkley went in search of Lexie and those pajamas, and once she changed, she, Lexie, and Mitch sat on the couch marathoning early 2000s chick flicks until Berkley fell asleep, her head on Lexie’s lap.
Chapter Five
Brent
Hockey players are supremely superstitious creatures. Pregame rituals are sacred, and most players go through the same routine from the moment they wake up to the second they step on the ice.
Brent’s game-day ritual was tame compared to some of his teammates, but he still had one. Actually, he had two. One for home games and one for away games. Tonight’s game was here in Detroit, so his morning started with a protein shake while he listened to exactly two chapters of whatever audiobook he was working through. Today it wasThe Last Time I Liedby Riley Sager.
After his shake and two chapters, he went for a quick run. While he didn’t like to do anything too strenuous and wear himself out before game-time, he did like to get his heart rate up in preparation for in-game cardio.
When he got home from his run, he showered and sat down to get some work done.
His job didn’t begin when the puck dropped and end at the final buzzer. He had several other obligations outside of his on-ice performance, such as attending photoshoots for his endorsement deals, giving interviews, preparing social media posts for brand partners, and of course, his charitable commitments.
Most athletes had a team of people to handle all the day-to-day minutiae involved in being a public figure, but Brent liked to handle everything himself. It kept him humble, and he loved the ins-and-outs of negotiating deals and exploring new business opportunities. He had an agent who consulted on all projects, as well as a business manager, but generally speaking, Brent did the heavy lifting himself.
That heavy lifting currently involved starting his own activewear company, FLEX. Despite leaving college a few months early to pursue his dream of being a professional hockey player, Brent had kept up with his coursework and graduated in absentia, earning degrees in both business and finance. He had always planned to use them in some capacity when his playing career was over, but when he got the idea to start a company, he couldn’t help himself. So, with the help of his sister, Mackenzie, who he had given a stake and managing role in the company, FLEX was born.
Brent had spent nearly the entire off-season working toward the first major photoshoot for the company. Getting FLEX ready for its first launch had not been easy. In the interest of supporting local businesses wherever possible, Brent had selected Detroit Manufacturing as his wholesaler for fabrics and had then spent hours sorting through options to make an informed decision on the best materials. Their in-house designer was probably sick of him after the endless correspondence regarding product sketches. Then he and Mackenzie had to sign off on the final versions of all samples. Finally, when all of that work was done, Brent had to hire someone to build the website and start marketing.
