On the Rebound

by Anna Albo

  “What happened to the big brother I used to look up to?”

  “You want to know what happened? I’ll tell you. A fucking doctor prescribed painkillers because he was too lazy to really help me. I also had a coach who wanted me back on the ice as soon as possible. He didn’t care that I wasn’t ready. That I was in excruciating pain. So that’s what happened, asshole. Are you happy now?”

  Jason’s face was blotchy and red and he was shaking a little. He grabbed his carry-on bag and pulled out a pill bottle.

  “And before you get on my case, it’s anxiety meds. Prescribed by a real doctor.”

  “I just see what you’ve become and it makes me sad,” Will said quietly.

  “You don’t think it made me sad too? I fucking have nothing.”

  “My offer still stands to get you into a rehab facility. It’s not too late to get your career back. You could get in shape, try out next year. Even if it’s a minor league team.”

  Jason chuckled. “You’re delusional. I’m almost thirty-four. I’ve been out of hockey for ages. I’ll never get my career back. I’m washed up, Will. A has-been. No one is going to give me a chance.”

  “You don’t know that. I’m just saying that it’s an option. At least give it some thought.”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever. So that was a no to the beer?”

  Will slowly shook his head. “No beer.”

  Jason stomped towards his room and Will slumped onto his sofa. Every once in a while, he thought back to the brother he remembered playing pickup hockey with, who could skate circles around him. The brother who challenged him to skate and shoot better. The brother he’d stay up with late at night and talk hockey until they could barely keep their eyes open. He didn’t want to give up on Jason, but he worried if one day he’d get the call that his brother was dead somewhere.

  That would kill his parents, and he would feel one hundred percent responsible.

  CHAPTER 6

  Thursday came quickly. Allie and Will exchanged a few texts but little more. His job was to say nothing, just let her lead the way. For nearly a week she’d plotted and come up with the perfect approach.

  Allie watched the women file into the boardroom from a nook at the end of the hallway. The women, most clad in high heels with hair done and makeup perfected, gathered in the room. Kyle was standing behind Allie, peering over her shoulder.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “Nothing. I’m just waiting for Will Cavallo to show up.”

  “He’s actually coming?”

  “He said he would.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “I asked nicely,” she said and winked at Kyle.

  “You’re good at this, Allie.”

  “Thank you.”

  Allie had already reminded Will not to be late and when he turned a corner, she smiled and grabbed Kyle’s arm. “It’s showtime.”

  Will saw her coming from the opposite direction and nodded. No need to let on anything else. He turned into the boardroom and seconds later so did Allie and Kyle. The women were all talking and didn’t notice Will, Allie or Kyle. Allie surveyed and listened as they spoke about their children, summer holidays and the upcoming season. Allie took a seat next to Kyle while Will took one a few seats away.

  The mindless conversation continued for a few more minutes until Allie cleared her throat. “Are we going to start the meeting? Who is chairing it?”

  The women, most of whom had been standing, turned to look at Allie. A few scowled, but most were confused and one—who Allie presumed to be Tiffani—narrowed her eyes and focused her full attention on Allie.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I’m Allie Stewart. And you are?”

  “Tiffani Baker.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been appointed to your committee as the team representative. Kyle and I will be sharing those duties. Tiffani, do you chair the meetings?”

  “We don’t really have a chair. Our meetings are pretty low key. We don’t follow any set rules.”

  “Who takes minutes?”

  “No one.”

  Allie turned to Kyle. “For the purpose of this meeting, do you mind taking minutes? I can help you with them later, unless someone else here would like to do them,” Allie said, scanning the room for volunteers—not that she expected any. By the looks of all the doe-eyed expressions, Allie knew that not only had most of these women never served on a committee before, they wouldn’t know where to begin with minutes. Allie suspected that neither did Kyle, but she’d revise them later.

  “Seeing no one, Tiffani, I assume you’ll chair? Informally, of course.”

  She sat at the head of the table, flung her mane of yellow-blonde hair over her shoulder and looked around the room. “Well, I guess we can start.”

  “Kyle’s going to need the names of everyone for the minutes.”

  Her head snapped in Allie’s direction. “He can get them later,” Tiffani said, trying to keep from sneering.

  Allie and Will exchanged looks, both desperately hiding smiles.

  “Okay, so we should talk about what we want to do this year. I think we should continue with the gala and the carnival. People love those. For this year’s gala, I thought we’d go with the black and white theme. Or old Hollywood. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  Allie raised her hand. Tiffani stopped talking, her blue eyes latching onto Allie and shooting imaginary daggers. “Now what?”

  “Do we have an agenda?”

  “No, we don’t have an agenda. I already told you our meetings are very easygoing,” Tiffani said, her left eye twitching.

  “According to the bylaws, there needs to be an agenda and minutes. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with so many informalities.” Allie was careful to keep her tone even, almost ignorantly cheerful.

  “We’ll look into it,” Tiffani said, an edge to her voice. “Back to the gala, I thought that this year we bring in some better musicians, maybe some famous ones? The guys last year were okay, but if we could get a big-name band . . .” She stopped, seeing Allie’s hand shoot up again. “You have another question?” she asked incredulously.

  “Budget? Is there one? I know there aren’t a lot of rules here, but a budget is necessary. Famous musicians sound expensive.”

  “The gala made money last year.”

  “The gala made less than five thousand dollars. Your husband makes that in two one-minute shifts.” The minute the words left her mouth, Allie knew she’d gone too far, but there was no going back now.

  Silence fell over the room. Tiffani tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the table as her face flushed with rage. “You know what, how about you chair this meeting since you seem to know everything?”

  Allie smiled. “If you don’t mind.” From her messenger bag she pulled out copies of a budget and other reports for everyone in attendance. She handed them out. “I didn’t prepare an agenda, but I’d be happy to for next meeting. I’ll give you all a moment to read over what I’ve given you.”

  Allie watched them. In particular, Will Cavallo. He took his time going through each page, pulling out a pen and making notes. The others stared off into space looking bored and bothered. One wife started filing her nails.

  “As you can see,” Allie began, “the Falcon Foundation didn’t raise much money last year. For comparison, I included other teams and their charitable foundations. The Falcons were dead last. In fact, we weren’t even close to the second last team.”

  More blank stares except from Tiffani whose back went up. She was ready to attack at any moment. “The Falcon Foundation raised nearly three hundred thousand dollars,” she said. “It’s in your own report.”

  “Correct, but that includes money collected from the 50/50 draws at each game. That is not money raised by this committee. We raised a little more than ten thousand dollars for the entire year. If you notice, the Bulldogs’ charitable division raised almost a quarter of a million dollars. And that does not
include their 50/50.”

  Tiffani’s cheeks deepened to a dark red despite the layers of makeup. “We do good work.”

  “I know you do, but you go vastly over budget. The gala is a wonderful idea, but to rely on ticket sales as your only revenue is a bad idea. You need to get money out of people the moment they arrive, and from my understanding, none of that is done. Do you know how much we get from each ticket sold?”

  It killed her but Tiffani shook her head.

  “I know. It’s twenty-four dollars. Multiply that by a thousand tickets sold. Now factor in all your expenses. This committee spent more than nineteen thousand dollars on decorations, musicians, an ice sculptor and some sort of gift for all those in attendance. The net gain was five thousand dollars. All that work for five thousand.”

  “I’m sure we can cut some of that,” Tiffani offered, defiance still peppering her voice.

  “Why not have an auction or raffle at the event? Some sponsorship opportunities?” Allie said.

  Another wife piped in. “It’s a lot of work.”

  “I don’t think so. If all of you got a few prizes, we’d have a great fundraising opportunity. We could have the players sell tickets, have volunteers man the prizes and the raffle draw. It’s not as much work as you think.”

  “Who would put the prizes together?” the sidekick asked. “Are you expecting us to do it?”

  “I think we could all do it, and I’m sure some of the Falcons staff would volunteer for such a worthy cause. Don’t you?”

  “We can think about it,” Tiffani said.

  “What other ideas do all of you have? Perhaps we could discuss them? Decide what our goals are for the year? We need to get those numbers up,” Allie said.

  Will cleared his throat and raised his hand. “I have an idea.”

  “I’m all ears,” Allie said.

  “I’ve mentioned it in the past, and I know we said we’d all think about it, but what about a telethon? If all the wives and the injured or alumni players did it during a televised game, I know we could raise a lot of money. We did it back in my first year with the Thunder, and it was successful.”

  “That’s an excellent idea. Kyle, are you writing this down?”

  He nodded, furiously trying to keep up with everything being said.

  “Again, that’s a lot of work,” Tiffani said. “Who’s going to organize it?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re all here for?” Allie asked.

  “I have children to look after. I can’t spend hours and hours on this.”

  Allie put on her sympathetic face. “I understand. I suppose we could recruit new people to your committee, people with more time to devote?”

  Tiffani clenched both her fists. “I’m sure we can all find some time. But before you go ahead and make all these decisions, don’t you think this committee should vote?” she asked, tossing her hair again, a huge, smug smile spreading across her face.

  Allie had her gotcha moment, but she had to keep from flashing her own smile.

  “Sure, let’s vote. I suppose the Falcon Foundation committee will be voting as a block? Would you like to take a moment to discuss your vote?”

  “What are you talking about? Yes, we are all voting.”

  Allie was trying to subdue the excitement threatening to burst out of her. This was her moment and she couldn’t wait to take it. “Well, as per the bylaws, the Falcon Foundation committee has one vote. The team representative has one vote and the player representative has one vote.”

  “No, that’s not the way it is,” Tiffani protested. Now the flushing had extended to her neck in bright red patches.

  “I suspect you haven’t read the bylaws. Kyle, can you make a notation about that? We want to make sure Mrs. Baker has a copy as well as the other members of the committee.”

  He nodded.

  “All of us just have one vote?” the sidekick asked.

  “Yes. All eight of you share a vote. How would you like to vote? In favor of the status quo?”

  Tiffani zeroed in on Will. At least Allie gave her credit for not being stupid, but before she could say a word, Allie piped in.

  “I haven’t had the opportunity to properly introduce myself to all of you. I said my name is Allie Stewart and I am the niece of Eddie Stewart. I thought I should let everyone know in case Mr. Cavallo wasn’t aware.”

  Tiffani’s head whipped to face Allie. “Are you implying that he has to vote with you?”

  “Not at all. Mr. Cavallo has free will to do whatever he pleases. While he ponders how he wants to vote, would you like to tell us how the committee will vote?”

  “This isn’t fair! You’re blackmailing us.”

  “No, I’m trying to make this foundation profitable. We are supposed to be raising money to help people who need it. We cannot take this foundation for granted anymore. Furthermore, if anyone wants to quit, be my guest. However, I would like you all to stay because I believe your hearts are in the right place, but the foundation needs a little direction. Now, having said all that, do we need to vote?”

  Silence. Most of the women shook their heads. Tiffani remained silent, mostly shell-shocked. “Okay, let’s adjourn and meet again in two weeks. Let’s all come up with at least one fresh idea so that we can make this the best year ever.”

  The women dispersed quickly, most likely to gossip about what had transpired. Kyle staggered off, notebook in hand while Will walked over to Allie, a huge grin on his face.

  “That was fucking fantastic.”

  “I practiced for a few days.”

  “My hat’s off to you. And you didn’t have to throw yourself under the bus. I would have voted with you, and to be honest, I think half these women would have too.”

  “I wanted to cover your ass. I’m sure there will be some backlash.”

  “I’m sure too.”

  “Let’s make sure to keep in touch. I think together we’ll have a lot of great ideas.”

  “I think so. I’m looking forward to it.”

  CHAPTER 7

  On his way out, he couldn’t help but steal a few glances at all those curves Allie carried so well. He’d had enough of waifs who resembled fourteen-year-old boys. Allie was an old-school pin-up girl, and like those women, he’d have to admire her from a distance. As much as he would have loved kissing her lips and having his way with her on the boardroom table, her last name alone was enough of a deterrent to stay the hell away.

  Will walked back to his car still thinking about her. She was going to be trouble for everyone. He’d never seen anyone handle Tiffani the way Allie did, and he had to admit it was a turn on. It had to be the eyes, her big hazel eyes giving off the innocent girl next door then chopping and dicing Tiffani into little pieces.

  Will had barely reached his truck when the flurry of texts came in. One after another, mostly from Baker. Like his wife, Baker was a fucking prima donna. The team revolved around him. He made all the decisions and no one questioned it. The guy had been with the Falcons for most of his career and thought he ran the team. Coach Burrows made him captain and the C on his jersey went to his head. The asshole had proclaimed himself commander-in-chief and for those who crossed him, the season was long.

  Will made sure to stay out of his way. They had a cordial relationship but not much else. Baker rarely hung out with the guys and when he did, it was never the guys Will called friends. Will was convinced that Baker thought he was too good for the Falcons, but for some reason didn’t ask for a trade. If he had to guess, Will figured it had to do with Tiffani and her connection to St. Paul. She had family in town or something like that—Will never bothered to find out—and if Tiffani wanted to stay, then they were staying.

  He waited until he got in his truck to call Baker. His Bluetooth kicked in and Baker answered on the first ring.

  “What the fuck happened? My wife is hysterical, Will. You let some broad make a fool of her?”

  Will kept his emotions in check. “Look, I’m sorry, but I had no
choice. I couldn’t risk the trouble. I feel bad for Tiff and everything, but I can’t jeopardize myself.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the cunt to fuck off?”

  Will clenched his jaw. He hated talk like that, but it was prevalent in the locker room and since Baker controlled it, nothing was going to change anytime soon. And Will made a point of avoiding trouble, but he was going to have a hard time getting out of this jam.

  “I value my job, that’s why. I think she can work with Tiff. They butted heads, but I know it’ll be fine. I’ll talk to Allie, make sure things go smoother next time.”

  “My wife is freaking out. I’ve got to deal with this shit and I don’t want to. I’m a bit pissed you didn’t back her up. These nobodies shouldn’t be allowed to talk to her like that.”

  Will wanted to laugh. Tiffani conveniently forgot to give her husband some valuable information. “The nobody, she’s Eddie’s niece. You know that, right?”

  Silence followed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I thought everyone knew that. I’ll always stand up for Tiff, but I’m not rocking any boats with Eddie. I figure if I’m nice to Allie, I can sway her to see things Tiffani’s way. Fighting with her won’t get me anywhere.” The way Will was pouring on the syrup, he was making himself sick.

  “Fucking chicks. Okay, I’m telling Tiff that you’ll work on that bitch. I don’t need this headache right now. I’ve got enough shit to deal with.”

  Like three girlfriends? The guy had so many girls to keep track of Will wondered how he made it to the rink on time. And did Tiffani know? She had to, but like the little harem they’d created, she was at the top of the pecking order, complete with three perfect sons who’d probably be forced to follow in their dad’s footsteps.

  “I’ll do my best. I can’t promise you anything.”

  Baker hung up and Will drove the last few minutes home. He found Jason inside, watching TV and eating a sandwich.

  “Hey, how’d it go?” Jason asked.

  “Good. I thought we were going out to eat.”