by Robyn M Ryan
“I warned you not to expect much.”
“Just wait. I do have my ways.” She nodded toward the empty pitcher. “How about mixing another batch while I employ my advanced surveillance skills.”
Caryn was almost through with her graphical depiction of Lauren’s social media reach, when her friend’s whispered, “Shit!” caused her to look up from her laptop.
“Still searching, Lauren? I can give you some hints.”
“No…” she answered slowly. “I’m just not sure you’ll like what I just found.” She held up her hand as Caryn started to set her computer aside. “Let’s do some fact checking first. You are from Ottawa, aren’t you?”
“You know I am.”
“I tracked down your birth records, no big deal, that’s public info. I googled your parents to see if I could uncover anything to use on this project…”
“So you know who my father is? That’s all right, Lauren. I’d prefer that not be broadcast, for obvious reasons.”
“I understand. I won’t include that. But one of the links ties you to him—some charity event maybe three or four years ago. Nice photo, by the way. So I went with that photo, which the charity posted on Instagram and searched for tags for you, your parents, the company, etc.”
“I’m sure my dad has no idea—he’d have had it removed.”
“Again, in itself, no big deal. So I searched for photos tagged with your name and Andrew. That was my ‘oh shit’ moment.” She beckoned Caryn to sit beside her. “Looks like you and Andrew had paparazzi during your week in St. Louis.”
“You kidding?”
“I wish I were.” Lauren handed the laptop to Caryn. “I’m getting a refill.” Caryn clicked through the photos, her disbelief growing with each picture. Most of the shots were from the side or back, neither she nor Drew particularly recognizable. She clicked on a few, each leading to a different Instagram account or media outlet. Although Drew was tagged on each photo, she was not. On a hunch, she searched for photos that tagged her mother or father. She saw more than just a few—mostly corporate functions—but one image captured her attention. The disastrous dinner at the Ritz. Andrew’s and her father’s eyes locked on each other. Discomfort evident in both her mother’s and her expressions. She looked for a caption and who was tagged. No caption. Her parents the only ones tagged. Her sigh of relief morphed into a burst of laughter. Of all moments captured and posted, this one was definitely most likely to make her father crazy.
Lauren’s expression questioned her laughter.
“Can you text this photo to me?” Caryn turned the laptop so Lauren could see the screen.
“Sure. Why is it so funny?” Lauren set the computer on her lap.
“Look at everyone’s expressions. It’s an evening to forget, putting it mildly.”
“Yeah, I can see neither of the guys look too happy. Your parents?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You and your mother could be sisters,” Lauren commented.
“Yes, she never seems to age. I hope I inherited that gene.”
Lauren was quiet for a few moments as she sent the photo to Caryn. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Probably nothing,” Caryn said as her cell phone chirped with the incoming text.
“You’ve got to help me here, Caryn. I have nothing I can use for this assignment. You are literally off the grid.”
“So, I have zero social media reach or influence. Maybe you could write that up.”
“I can do that. Just let me do a Google search first. If that comes up blank, I’m presenting you as an endangered species.”
“Be sure to include what you found without your super-investigative skills,” Caryn reminded her with a smile.
“I will. Google just identifies you as the only child of William and Suzanne Stevens of Ottawa. No photo. No reference to your dad’s company. Okay to use that info?” When Caryn nodded, Lauren looked back at the screen. “Now, let’s search your name and Andrew’s.”
“I don’t really care…” Caryn started, but Lauren cut her off.
“You’ll love this, Caryn. You must be the ‘mysterious hot blonde seen quite often with Andrew Chadwick’. This ‘mystery blonde’ even made the ‘WAGS’ list after your trip to St. Louis.” She looked at Caryn and saw the color rising on her cheeks. “WAGS?”
“Wives and girlfriends,” Caryn said. “One of the Leafs’ wives told me about some of the terminology. That’s a list I’d rather not find my name on.”
“No ID, no tags. You’re good for now.” She shut the cover to close her laptop. “I’ve got plenty. Now, your turn to tell me all the secrets you’ve uncovered about me.”
“First, I’ll need a refill,” Caryn said as she stood. “Want to order dinner?”
“Yes, I’m through with homework. Where’s Andrew today?”
“Phoenix.” Caryn glanced at her watch. “I won’t hear from him for several hours. I hate these time zone separations.”
Lauren grabbed her arm. “Let’s go out then. We can walk over to Sullivan’s. Who knows if we’ll get to sit outside again anytime soon.”
THIRTY
Caryn decided not to mention Lauren’s discoveries when she spoke with Andrew over the next few days. There was nothing he could do about the “paparazzi” photos, and his mind was totally focused on the upcoming playoffs. She grew more excited as each game brought the chances of the Blues playing the Leafs closer to a reality. Her study group began to lobby Caryn to obtain tickets, and Lauren reiterated—many times—her hopes of meeting Andrew’s linemates.
“Are you guys going to cheer for the Leafs?” Caryn asked Kevin and Bill when they inquired about tickets for the third time.
“Well…” Kevin began slowly. “Been a lifelong Leafs fan. How about if I promise not to cheer against Andrew?”
“Or applaud when he gets crushed in the corner?” Bill added with a grin.
“You both are terrible,” Lauren said, returning to “their” table in the coffee house with the group’s drinks. “Caryn, you know I’m with the Blues all the way. Forget these turncoats.”
“I’ve already asked Drew. He doesn’t know how many tickets he can get—he’s got his family and a lot of friends already on his list. He may have to get some of his teammates to request tickets for him.”
“You’ll get to go, though?” Bill asked. Caryn’s look caused the other two to laugh. “Well, I’ll take that as a yes.”
“A ‘Yes, of course,’ you mean,” Lauren corrected. “Let’s quit harassing Caryn about this and get to work. I, for one, intend to pass my exams.”
***
The final week of the semester coincided with the opening games of the playoffs in St. Louis. Caryn could not attend either of the first two games, but when the weekend brought the Blues to Toronto, she cleared her schedule. Andrew explained that he was expected to stay with the team at the hotel, but he promised dinner after Saturday evening’s game. With Sunday fairly open, he would visit his parents after practice, then they would enjoy a more casual meal early that evening, when Dave Martin and Jim Andrews would join them—as well as Lauren. He also had tickets for her study group for Monday’s game.
Lauren was beyond thrilled—burying herself in the Blues' website to learn as much as she could about the team—and to check out Martin and Andrews.
They worked in the computer lab putting the final touches on the various projects that were due that week.
“Should I wear a Blues' shirt or jersey, or maybe a hat?”
Caryn shrugged, biting back a smile. “You can take a look in my closet, Lauren. Drew has given me boxes of stuff. I prefer to go incognito; maybe wear something with the team’s colors. You don’t want to come across as a groupie, do you? Or worse, a ‘puck bunny.’” Caryn laughed at Lauren’s expression.
“I’m not even going to ask you what that means. I get the hint. What will you wear to Monday’s game?”
“Probably the same thing I’ll wear to Satu
rday’s game—Tom’s going to run me home to change before dinner. I’m thinking those royal blue jeans, yellow-gold shirt and a denim jacket—and maybe a sweater. Remember how chilly it gets in the arena.” Caryn flipped through her graphics portfolio a final time. “Can you find anything I need to fix?”
“Looks like I’ll be going shopping,” Lauren replied as she took the portfolio.
“You’ve got plenty of clothes you can wear.”
“Nothing like those skinny jeans.”
“You want to borrow them?” Caryn asked as she pulled her digital media case studies from her backpack.
“No, I’ll find my own.” Lauren was quiet as she closely examined each design. “You think you might want to adjust the lighting on this one?”
Caryn looked over Lauren’s shoulder. “Probably…unfortunately.” Her tone mirrored her lack of enthusiasm.
“It’s good the way it is. You don’t have to do anything.” Lauren glanced at Caryn with a suppressed giggle. “Go ahead and fix it. Then, when we’re through here, you can help me decide what to wear Sunday.”
***
Andrew phoned Caryn as soon as the team checked into the hotel Friday. He’d prepared her for the changes to routines during the playoffs, so she knew she wouldn’t see him until after Saturday’s game. He had a practice, followed by a team meeting and dinner on Friday’s schedule. After splitting the opening two games in St. Louis, the Blues' players and management continually sought Andrew’s opinion for any and all tips on playing in the arena, including tendencies and weaknesses of individual players. Caryn could hear the fatigue in his voice.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
Andrew laughed softly. “Nothing that won’t earn a fine. I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m not worried about that. You just sound so tired.”
“The last few weeks have been intense, Cary. I’m sure for you, too. Get your projects turned in?”
“Of course. All that’s left is an exam on Tuesday. Then, my summer begins.” Caryn’s laugh was infectious. “When do I get to go to all the playoff games?”
“We’ll see if we win the first round. Can definitely use my good luck charm.”
***
Caryn had never attended a playoff game and was not prepared for the electrically charged atmosphere in the arena. During warm-ups, the crowd was louder than during any game she’d attended. She glanced at Tom as they made their way to their seats. “Will we get mobbed when we cheer for the Blues?”
“Guess we’ll find out. Though it’s going to be tough remembering which team we’re supporting.”
Caryn laughed, her eyes scanning the ice for Andrew. “Just think how weird it must be for Drew—trying to score on the Leafs? You think they’ll be rough on him?”
“You mean, drive him into the boards?” Tom pointed toward their seats. “Absolutely, if they get a chance.”
Caryn sat down and handed the Leafs' rally towel to Tom. “I guess we can wave them every once in a while and keep our neighbors happy here.”
Tom promptly shoved them under his seat. “No way. Blues all the way.”
“I wish your mom and dad could be here,” Caryn said, her voice wistful.
“It’s just getting too hard on them,” Tom explained. “When Andrew first started with the Leafs, they made almost every home game. It’s just gotten harder each year—now they both say they enjoy watching the games on TV more than dealing with the crowds.”
“You think we’re the only Blues' fans here?”
Tom shook his head, his eyes following Andrew through the warm-ups. “He said he was having a hard time finding tickets for everyone who’s asked. Many of his teammates have family in the area. So only his favorite people got tickets.” He glanced at Caryn with a smile. “And thanks to you, I’m in one of the two best seats he scored. I think he got these through some softie in the Leafs' front office.”
“And no doubt worked his blue-eyed charm on whoever she is.” Caryn bit back her laugh as they stood to allow a group wearing assorted Leaf jerseys, t-shirts, and hats to pass to their seats. “Enemy territory,” she whispered to Tom.
“We’ll be fine—just kick me if I start yelling for the Leafs by mistake.”
The game’s intensity matched the crowd’s and Caryn soon forgot any hesitation to join those cheering for the Blues. Andrew’s slap shot found the back of the Leafs' net twice, leaving Caryn breathless and proud when she overheard Leafs' fans grumbling about his being traded to the Blues. She nudged Tom and he nodded, indicating he’d heard the remarks. “Never thought I’d see the day when I was happy the Leafs lost a playoff game. Andrew should be in a pretty good mood tonight when you see him.”
“I can’t wait!” She held onto Tom’s arm as they weaved through the throngs of mostly unhappy, but still animated fans. Outside the arena, crowds of people who didn’t have tickets turned the plaza into a huge party-like atmosphere.
“Don’t think they are feeling any pain.” Tom indicated a particularly rowdy section, guiding Caryn toward the outskirts of the crowd. “Can you imagine if the Leafs had won?”
Congested traffic made the relatively short drive to her townhouse a frustrating commute, as Caryn was eager to change and finally see Drew. She had no idea what he’d planned for dinner—Tom refused to give her even a clue. “Take your time,” Tom said when they finally entered the townhouse. “Andrew will text when he’s leaving the arena.”
She nodded toward the kitchen. “Beer in the fridge. Help yourself.” Caryn lightly ran up the stairs. She’d picked the dress she planned to wear, but looking at it hanging against the closet door, had second thoughts. Unseasonably warm for late April, almost like late June, she wanted to wear something brighter, more spring-like. The little black dress went back to the closet, exchanged for a sleeveless lime green silk sheath that she paired with a royal blue short linen blazer. The bright colors matched her mood, and she rummaged through her jewelry until she found the simple necklace made with tiny white seashells. Now shoes. Sandals would probably be pushing it, she decided, choosing her favorite beige ballet pumps. She spent a little extra time on her makeup, brushed her hair, dabbed perfume on her wrists and was back downstairs twenty minutes later.
Tom looked up from his phone. “Good timing. Andrew just sent a text. We can go as soon as you say.”
“Like now?”
“Eager, are we?” Tom took his empty bottle to the kitchen. “You look great, Caryn. A breath of sunshine and spring.”
She grabbed her purse before looking at him with a smile. “Thanks, Tom. Appreciate you being my personal driver tonight.”
“Pleasure’s all mine—we got the best seats, remember? I was motivated.”
The drive was short to Andrew’s apartment. “So this is the secret you couldn’t tell?” Caryn teased.
“Lips sealed.” He started to open his door, but stopped as Andrew stepped out the front door and Caryn jumped out of the car and met him halfway up the walk. He laughed as Caryn practically flew into his arms, throwing her arms around Andrew’s neck as he lifted her off the ground. They kissed, and then Andrew nodded toward Tom, slipping his arm around her shoulders as they walked toward the car.
“Thanks for everything, brother,” he said, leaning against the open window. “Did you forget and go crazy when the Leafs' scored?”
“Nope. Caryn and I were rather conspicuously quiet. Now, when you scored we probably raised the decibels a few bars ourselves.”
“I was so afraid you’d forget and shoot on the wrong net,” Caryn said with a sheepish smile. She cringed at his reproachful glance. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Andrew laughed and reached to shake Tom’s hand. “See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there. Enjoy your evening.”
Caryn preceded Andrew inside the apartment, turning around in awe. Soft music filled the background, flickering white candles and strings of small white lights produced a magical setting, and the aroma of some
thing heavenly wafted from the kitchen. “It’s beautiful, Drew. How did you…?”
“If I said I did this myself, you’d know I was lying. I had help. Lots of help.” His blue eyes pulled her toward him. “Can I interest you in a glass of wine?” Caryn did not break the eye contact, nodding silently. Andrew leaned to kiss her gently, then offered his arm. “May I seat you, ma’am?” Caryn’s gaze caught the table for two set up beside the fireplace, complete with white tablecloth, flowers in a crystal vase, and elegant silver-rimmed china. She looked up at Andrew as he led her to the chair, pulling it back so she could sit down.
“I think I’m speechless.”
Andrew grinned as he poured wine for both before sitting across from her. “Glad you’re pleased. Was going to have a fire, but it’s just too warm.” He nodded toward her dress. “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”
Caryn felt her cheeks flush as she shrugged off the jacket. Andrew stood to take it even as she protested. “Just don’t go anywhere,” he said, hanging it in the closet. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the kitchen, and Caryn sipped her wine as she absorbed the magical transformation of his apartment, wondering when and how he had found the time to plan the evening and keep it a secret. Her eyes sparkled as Andrew emerged from the kitchen, balancing two salads and a selection of bread.
“Let me help you.” She started to stand, but Andrew cut her off.
“Just don’t move. I’ve got this.” He set the salad plates on the table, and then placed the small whicker breadbasket to the side of the table. He leaned to kiss her, and gently caressed her cheek. “I’ll probably lose my five-star rating, but I’m going to bring the dinner courses now. Once I sit and start eating, I probably won’t move.”
Caryn laughed. “Why don’t you let me serve you? You have got to be exhausted.”