Page 18 of My Brother's Enemy
She shook her head. “No. None of that. Trust me. My assistant is more than capable of handling this type of thing. I came back because I was ready to get back to work. I’ve kinda missed the team.”
“I still feel bad.”
“Don’t.” Her voice was firm. “If anything, blame the asshole who violated you and your niece’s privacy. Blame the first news outlet that agreed to run with the story. Blame them. Not yourself.”
I nodded. When she put it like that, some of my guilt eased, but in its place was a stone of anger.
Kashvi touched my arm, stalling me in the hallway. “When we get in there, let me do the talking until the actual interview. When it comes to this sort of stuff, I let the veteran players say what they’d like. You’ve done this song and dance. When you’ve said all you want to, you can shoot me a look if you need me to step in. Also, I know you know this, but I’m going to say it anyway. You signed up to play hockey. Along with that came some responsibilities for being a role model to younger hockey fans, but your niece did not. Your sister did not. You do not have to say anything you don’t want to in there. You control the interview, okay? Martine is a decent reporter. More than likely she won’t push, but she’s still a reporter. You decide what’s in the story, not anyone else. Now.” She looked me over and gave a nod of approval. “You look good. You ready?”
I had on a black Grays blazer over dark slacks. I didn’t think the pants would be a big deal, but I wanted to represent theteam by looking professional, not too casual, so jeans or athletic joggers were out. My hair was combed to the side, but I hadn’t had time to shave, so my face was a little scruffy. Seemed appropriate considering my lack of sleep.
“Ready.”
She knocked, and the door opened.
Here we go.
14
RAIN
Iwas horrified early the next morning when Benoit sent me a preview of the article about Tyler’s niece. I calculated the timing and realized this story was why his phone had been going off incessantly at the rink. What a nightmare. Tyler Griffin had always adored his twin, and it’d been just the two of them for a while. I didn’t know the details, just that their parents had died while they were younger. Someone must’ve stepped in to take care of them, but then again, Tyler was already a hockey star by then. Of course everyone did what was needed to ensure he was okay.
As I read about his niece, how her mother had found her in the bathroom, that she’d overdosed and was now in a coma, it all made sense. Tyler had come back home—no questions, no hesitation. His previous team had let him go. Family was family, and Tyler Griffin was a part of their family.
A few other outlets picked up the story as the morning progressed. Eventually it was everywhere in the hockey world. By midday, the mainstream media had picked it up as well.
I asked Benoit for Tyler’s number. He didn’t send it right away. Some might’ve assumed he was in a business meeting orsomething, but Mal Benoit responded to all of my texts within minutes. Two hours later, he sent it. Just the number. Nothing else.
I texted Tyler.
This is Rain. Is there anything I can do for you?
There was no point in saying anything else. Once I saw him in person, I’d relay my apologies and well-wishes, but I needed to reach out now.
I wasn’t sure he’d respond, but he texted back a few minutes later.
Tyler: I wanted to escape last night. You weren’t into it. I’m good. Thanks.
Rain: Liar. You’re not good.
Rain: Also, can we keep this professional? I’d rather not lose my career.
Tyler: Professional, check. Is this you doing your job? If so, fuck off.
Tyler: No offense. I don’t need a shrink.
I frowned.
Rain: You were dealing with this last night?
Tyler: Yes…?
Rain: That’s why you were there to skate? I took the rink away from you.
Tyler: I wasn’t there because the story leaked, but yeah, I was there to clear my head. Not your problem, doc.
Rain: Don’t call me that.
