Page 73 of Brooklynaire
“Sure. The timing works fine, anyway. Rebecca told me forty-eight hours ago that she was just cleared to come back to work part-time.”
“She was?” That’s the best news I’ve heard in a week. “Are yousure?”
He chuckles again. “Of course I’m sure. I have the doctor’s note asking for a reducedschedule.”
“There’s no such thing as a reduced schedule during the playoffs,” I point out. But I really need to shut up. It’s none of mybusiness.
“Got it covered, okay? I’m assigning an intern to assist Rebecca full-time. We’re bringing both of them with us to Detroit. The intern can cover the hours when Rebecca is resting. Don’t worry about any of us or the team. We look good going into this series. The guys areready.”
Of course they were. “Go get ‘em. See you in a few days,maybe.”
“Later.”
Well, okay then. Time to do some business and forget aboutRebecca.
Asif.
17
Rebecca
May 21, Brooklyn
It’s almosttime to leave for the stadium, and my boys are playing a little elimination soccer to pass the time. They’re all wearing suits and ties. That makes the soccer less exhilarating, though the eye candy quotient is prettyhigh.
It’s great to be back atwork.
Silas has the ball. “You’re going down,captain.”
O’Doul crosses his powerful arms over his chest and smirks at the young goalie. “You little smack talker. Kick italready.”
Hedoes.
We’re standing in the warm-up room at the training facility. The puck drops in two and a half hours on game three of the third round. There’s a lot riding on tonight’sgame.
O’Doul has to leap sideways to prevent the ball from hitting the floor, but he keeps the game alive with a knee shot toTrevi.
I have a sewing kit in my bag, as always. One of these days someone is going to split aseam.
My gaze flits to the clock on the wall, and then to the phone in my intern’s hand. It hasn’t lit up yet to indicate that the bus isoutside.
Heidi Jo catches me looking and pulls the phone to her chest. “Now now. No peekin’,” shesays.
I want to slugher.
My most grievous error on the day I returned to work was mentioning that I needed to limit my screen time. Who knew that such a cute little twenty-year-old could be such adictator?
“Oh, mercy!” she says suddenly. The phone is vibrating in her hand. “It’stime!”
Indeed, the outside edge of my phone is lit uporange.
“Okay, boys!” I holler, smacking my clipboard for emphasis. “Bus iswaiting!”
“You hear that, O’Doul?” Castro says. “Becca needs you to miss this next point so we can go to thestadium.”
He snarls, and Castro uses that moment to spike the ball toward him. There’s nothing like a little friendly competition to fire up the boys before a game. It’s a warm-up activity that’s equal parts hand-eye coordination andbravado.
I wait, trying to be patient. But we’re on a schedulehere.
