Page 17 of Hot Damn
“Are we openly saying you have a daughter now?”
“May as well. The world knows about her and I never tried to keep her a secret to begin with.” I shrug. “Just turned out that way.”
“I don’t know how. Your previous teammates knew you had a kid, the Rogues org knew.” Alcott shakes his head. “I don’t understand why Draper thought it was such a big deal.”
“Draper?”
“The guy from the press conference. Herman Draper. From what Oakley tells me, he’s the scum of scum kind of journalist who will dig in your trash looking for any dirt he can expose. Usually sells to the gossip columns.”
“Does anyone believe those?”
“Probably.” Alcott claps me on the shoulder. “Listen. I know you like to keep to yourself off ice but I’d—we’d— appreciate it if you were a bit more social with the rest of the team. You’ll find the owners are friendly and want to be involved in the players’ lives.”
“Why? They’re paying us to do a job, not be their friend.”
“True. But they have a philosophy that has paid off big-time in their other business.”
“What business? To be honest, other than Oakley, I don’t know who the owners of the Rogues are.”
“You didn’t read or see any of the stuff when the franchise was announced?”
“Maybe. But at that point it had nothing to do with me, and when my agent came to me with the offer to play here, all Iwas concerned with was whether it would be suitable for Whit. I can play anywhere.”
“Huh.” He’s quiet a moment before saying, “I don’t know if anyone else warned you or not and maybe that’s what Cami wants to see you about today, but you didn’t mention Whitney’s mom in your interview.”
“Why would I? She’s not in our lives. Hasn’t been since Whit was born.”
“Okay.” Alcott stops me, turns to face me. “If I’m calculating right, and I’ll be the first to admit math isn’t my favorite subject or in my skill set but even I can minus seventeen from thirty-three.”
I swallow. I know what’s coming. The judgement, the curiosity. I was forced to face both when Whit was first born but as she got older—as I got older—the looks stopped, so did the questions, and I found it easier to lay it out. Reveal enough information to stop whoever was asking from digging deeper.
“I was sixteen when Whit was born. Her mother didn’t want her but I did. Luckily I had Mama Dot, my foster mother, to help me.”
“Jeez, Blake has a fifteen-year-old nephew. I can’t imagine him becoming a parent next year.”
“It wasn’t easy. I never thought about being a parent until I found out she was on the way, but once I knew about her, I did everything I could to protect her.” The fierceness of my voice has Alcott raising a brow and I have to think of something to say that will stop any more questions. “I have first-hand knowledge of a parent who doesn’t protect you. I didn’t want that for my kid.”
Alcott nods. “I understand that. Micky isn’t mine, he’s my cousin’s son, but I’ll do anything to keep him safe, make sure he has everything he needs.”
I know a little about the boy Alcott and Oakley James are raising. I might not have taken much notice of the new team in the league when it was announced but once I knew I’d sign the contract with Rogues, I did some research on the coaches. Iadmire them both for taking on the little boy. Although at five I guess he’s not that little.
Glancing at his watch, Alcott says, “And speaking of Micky. I need to head out. He’s got a school thing on.”
I smile. “I’ve only dealt with those in recent years. When Whit was homeschooled, our school things were more excursions for one. Well, two. Someone had to go with her. Usually me.”
“This is an art showing. Apparently Ineedto be there because he wants all his family with him when he unveils his painting.”
“Sounds like a fun afternoon.”
“Oakley promised ice cream after. Can’t pass up ice cream.”
“Better get going so you’re not late or she might renege on that.”
“That’s exactly what she’d do.” Alcott laughs. “Although Pa will slip me some on the sly if she does.”
I have no idea who Pa is and I know I should ask if I’m going to be more friendly with the people involved in my new team but my natural inclination is to not ask. If I don’t ask, they don’t ask. It’s how I’ve kept myself and Whit out of the spotlight.
“All right, get in there,”—he indicates the locker room with a chin lift—“get cleaned up, and help Mikel and Noah with their interviews.”
