The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance

by Colleen Charles

  She couldn’t laugh at his attempt to keep the mood light. Because it wasn’t. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, then popped them open again. “I don’t have a long list of lovers. Not like you do, I’m sure. Getting in my pants is a pretty exclusive club.”

  He clucked his tongue. “There goes that stereotype thing I mentioned. Just because I play in the NHL doesn’t necessarily follow that I’m a man-whore. Where are you going with all these questions?”

  “Cole, I want this to work, you and me, but I don’t want to disappoint you either.” She paused for breath. “I might not be able to have children because of an infection I had a long time ago.”

  “Whoa, slow down pretty doughnut-lady. It’s a bit early to be worrying about all that, isn’t it?”

  She shook her head. “Better early than too late. If children are important to you… then maybe I’m not the girl for you. I can be your best one-night stand.”

  “I think I’m capable of telling what girl is right for me,” he whispered, eyes narrowed with pain. “And for the record, I’ve never had a one-night stand. That’s not the way my mother raised me. I was brought up to respect woman and cherish them as partners.”

  “And what about friends?” Eloise went on. “Are your friends important to you? The bro code and all that macho stuff?”

  “Like I said, I value trust and loyalty. I expect those from everyone, not just friends and family. I’d even expect it from Sheehan Murphy, although after the meeting, I’m not sure he’s even capable.”

  “Do you trust your friend Trey?”

  He turned toward her and cupped her cheeks, sensing the gravity of her tone. “Yeah. Known him a long time. Why?”

  “Did he say anything about me after the Town Hall?” she asked, eyes pooling with tears she couldn’t stop.

  Cole looked puzzled. “Other than he liked the music festival idea, no. Why would he?”

  Eloise squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of unwanted moisture. “Well, unless he’s a completely changed person, or was trying to spare your feelings, I guess he just didn’t recognize my name. Didn’t recognize me.”

  “Eloise, why on earth would Trey recognize you?” his frustrated question pierced through to her heart. “Spit it out.”

  Her eyelids opened and her teary green gaze locked with his intense blue one. “His name isn’t Trey. It’s Trevor. He went to my high school. In Columbus. We dated, and he… took advantage of me one night just before graduation. He moved away after that, and I never saw him again until tonight.”

  Eloise met his gaze again. His eyes were such clear, azure depths. A smooth lagoon. She could get lost there. She could be found there. But she couldn’t bring herself to utter the word. The one that changed everything.

  Rape.

  Cole slipped his arms protectively around her. “I’m sorry. I can tell you’re upset, but wasn’t that quite a long time ago? If he’s forgotten it, maybe you should too.”

  A heaving sob escaped. She needed to say one last thing before she could finally admit what had choked her for years. Held her hostage in an aching pool of shame and blame, swirling ever downward until she’d entered a black abyss. “So you’re defending him? Like my feelings don’t matter? You don’t know the whole story, Cole. There’s more.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “You’re asking me to tell you the biggest secret of my life. One that could destroy my career. Cole, I need you to promise on your mother’s life that you’ll never repeat what I’m about to tell you.”

  “On my honor,” he said, raising a hand in the Boy Scout oath. “Or, don’t you think I have any because I slap a puck for a living?”

  Eloise didn’t care for the angry turn the conversation had taken. Because it scared the living shit out of her. She shook her head and pushed forward.

  “I had an abortion. My family never knew about it. Neither did Trevor. After the procedure, I contracted an infection, but I got over it. Then I moved out of state and buried myself in books. I came down with mono and missed a whole semester. That’s when my doctor told me there was bacterial scarring that might prevent me from having another baby. Ever.”

  She wiped her eyes with the hem of the duvet cover and looked up at him. Cole’s face had gone ashen. “So now you know.”

  He pulled her head into his chest and stroked her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Cole’s gentle presence calmed her until she nearly fell asleep. “I should go,” he said suddenly, jarring her awake.

  “You don’t have to. You could stay,” she said, snuggling into him again.

  “You’re exhausted, and we’ve got practice tomorrow.” He disentangled himself and went in search of his clothes on the floor.

  Eloise watched him dress, savoring the sight of his muscled, athletic physique. He fished his phone out of his jean pocket and tapped the screen. “My ride will be here in a few minutes,” Cole said, returning the device to his pocket. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

  Eloise sat up and reached for her shortie robe that lay on a chair near the bed. “You can wait here, it’s fine.” She donned the robe and tied the belt around her waist. When she turned around, Cole stared at her in a distant, distracted way. “What’s wrong?” she asked, worry snaking through her.

  He chewed his lip, then shook his head as if to clear stray thoughts from it. “It’s nothing. You should rest, I’ll see myself out.”

  “Cole,” she said, her voice thrumming with uncertainty, “there’s something you’re not saying. Please, we have to be honest with each other.”

  He bowed his head, then glanced up again. “I’m no altar boy,” he confessed. “But I come from a very devout Catholic home. I’m real sorry for what happened to you and furious with Trey, but…” he broke off and looked at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze. “Abortion is against everything I was raised to believe. Life is precious, it’s a gift, no matter how it arrives.”

  “I was raped,” Eloise said, becoming angry. “That changes the holy precept just a little, doesn’t it?”

  Cole looked uncomfortable, almost stricken, his face paler than earlier. “I’ve gotta go. Goodnight, Eloise.”

  He turned and left the bedroom. Eloise slumped to sit on the edge of the bed, her knees suddenly unable to support her weight. She heard the rustle of clothing as he retrieved his shoes and jacket, and the hollow slam of the door as it closed behind him.

  Then all she heard was her sobs.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eloise could barely open her eyes the next morning, a thick crust of dried tears stuck them together. She rubbed at them with her fingertips, her whole face feeling swollen and misshapen from sobbing half the night. Memories of both joy and pain from the previous evening filtered into her waking brain. How did her life go from success and optimism to such total misery in just a handful of weeks? Men! They were the cause of everything bad, from wars to unwanted pregnancies.

  Cole had said goodnight, but not goodbye. The look on his face as he’d left her bedroom would haunt her forever. A portrait of disappointment, lost faith, and helplessness. It had stabbed her to the core knowing she’d poured her heart out, revealed her innermost fears and secrets to him, and he’d just turned away. She hoped some thread of reason, of desire for her, remained and would bring him back to the real world. One that wasn’t full of idealistic rainbows, angels, and blessed virgins. Where bad people did bad things for their own selfish gain.

  Her rationalizations didn’t make her feel any better. She grabbed her cell phone from her cream-colored Michael Kors handbag on the floor. It lay next to the discarded pile of clothing from the night before, and tears threatened to begin anew.

  There were missed calls from Sophia and Kylie. She dialed Sophia first, chastising herself for not being available when her sister needed her. A trip to Columbus just wasn’t feasible with the team nearing the end of the regular season and vying for a playoff spot. She hoped Sophia would understand.
/>
  “Hi, El,” Sophia’s voice answered brightly.

  “Hi, Soph, sorry I missed your call. So, did you get the test done? What happened?” Sophia’s tone of voice suggested good news. “I’ve been concerned since I didn’t get a text from you right away.”

  “It’s negative. If these things are reliable, and if I did it right, it’s negative.”

  Eloise sighed in relief. “Good. See? Told you not to worry until you were sure. These things can happen for lots of reasons. How’s Phil? Have you talked to him?”

  Sophia paused. “A couple of times, but he decided to take a ski trip for a few days in Colorado. Hope that mile-high air will clear his head.” She sighed audibly.

  “I’m sure it will, Soph. He loves you, you’ve been together so long. He just needs a little–”

  “Don’t say time,” Sophia interrupted. “If I hear that phrase once more, I’m gonna puke. He’s had years of time.”

  Eloise chuckled. “I was going to say, a kick in the ass. Guys are like mules with blinders on. Slow, stubborn and can only see one path ahead. Usually, the one their mom paved along her road of good intentions.”

  Sophia laughed. “I thought you said you’d given up trying to understand men.”

  “I didn’t say I understood. I’m just reporting my observations.”

  “Thanks, El. For being there for me and Hannah. Always.”

  “Hey, you’d do the same for me. I’m sorry I can’t come to Ohio. Work is just too busy right now.”

  “I understand. Love ya.”

  “Love ya too. Bye.”

  Eloise disconnected and took a big breath in, then let it out again. One problem solved. Next. She hit return on Kylie’s call.

  “Where’d you go last night?” Kylie’s voice came across the connection in a rush.

  Not even a hello from her trusty PA. She had a knack for getting straight to the point, Eloise gave her that. “Well, good morning to you too,” she teased.

  “Good morning,” Kylie backtracked. “I assume it’s good? You left with Cole.” A pause, then her voice came back in a whisper. “He’s not listening right now, is he?”

  “No. He’s not here.”

  “Oh.”

  “You sound disappointed,” Eloise commented.

  “I’m disappointed for you,” Kylie said.

  “Don’t be. Everything’s fine.”

  A sigh. “When someone says ‘everything’s fine’ it usually isn’t. C’mon, you know you can’t hide anything from me. Fess up.”

  “Later. How was your evening?” Eloise asked, changing the course of the conversation.

  “Great! I actually sang on stage. I can’t believe I did that.”

  Eloise laughed. “I’m glad I missed out on your Alanis Morissette impersonation.”

  “I didn’t do her. I did Adele.”

  “Oy. Even better that I left or else we might be Turning Tables on a new job for you.”

  “Hey. Like you said, don’t knock it til you try it, she-who-sits-at-the-top-of-the-mountain.”

  “Touché. I noticed you didn’t bring any of your ‘several’ boyfriends to the party,” Eloise said. “Meet anyone interesting?”

  “Oh. Well. I guess I was exaggerating when I said several.”

  “Uh-huh. Thought so.”

  “And anyway, I think I’m into bald guys now.”

  “Really.” Eloise smiled. “How odd.”

  “Anyway, I had something to tell you before you left so rudely.”

  “Right. Well, I’m all ears now.” And tears. Rhymes with ears.

  “Okay, you know the guy that owns the place, you said his name’s Troy or something?”

  Yup. I know him. A rose by any other name – still stinks and has thorns that will poke you in the ass.

  “What about him?” Eloise asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

  “Well, I overheard him and the bartender guy, and a few others talking about a petition against Murphy’s bar – or no, wait, a coalition, that’s it, of business owners, to try and have it shut down. Sounded like they are planning something sneaky for opening night. I thought you should know.”

  Eloise frowned. Terrific. Solve one problem and two others sprouted up to replace them. If problems were plants, that’d be a happy circumstance. “Thanks for the heads up, Kyles. You’ve just earned your paycheck for the week.”

  Kylie scoffed. “Paycheck? How about a bonus or a raise? Even a caramel macchiato?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Mata Hari. See you at the office.”

  “See ya. And when I do, you owe me all the deets from last night!”

  Eloise ended the call and tossed the phone across the room. Her life was turning to shit right before her puffy, reddened eyes.

  ***

  Shredder looked at his cards in disgust. “Fold,” he said, throwing them face down on the green felt surface. Cole kept his poker face immutable as always and glanced at Jones, the next player to Shredder’s right.

  “Call,” Jones said. “Let’s see your hand, Fiorino.”

  Cole laid down the cards. “Royal flush,” he said in a whiny, know-it-all voice. The two players to his left both groaned and threw their cards down, a collection of low pairs and straight flushes. Rubbing his hands together, Cole laughed like a pirate then scooped the chips from the center into his own pile.

  “You lucky fuck,” Jones said, a jealous grin on his face. “I’m out next game. I’m done being your pigeon,” he joked.

  “Suit yourself,” Cole said, throwing Shred a knowing glance.

  The game broke up, the players returning to their seats on the team bus as it rolled north on Highway 52 toward St. Paul. With Rochester only an hour and a half to the south, the team didn’t fly in for games at the Xcel Center. Shredder folded up the portable poker top they carried with them on road trips and put it away. “You are one lucky son of a bitch, Cole, gotta tell ya.”

  “Ah, that’s just it,” Cole said. “Luck. I don’t have a monopoly on it. You can’t predict it, catch it, or keep it. It either comes your way, or it doesn’t.”

  “Hmm. Sounds a lot like women. And I noticed you don’t have any trouble with that, either,” Shredder said.

  Cole shrugged and spread his hands wide. “That’s why they call it Lady Luck.”

  “Huh. Let’s hope the Lady is with us against the Wild.”

  “We just play our game, Shred. Stick to the plan and it’ll come out all right.”

  “Speaking of ladies, are you and Eloise Robertson an item? I saw you two leave the Brews together last week.”

  Cole looked up from sorting the chips and cards back into a silver case. “So. You’ve seen me leave with lots of chicks, Shred. No big deal. Doesn’t mean I don’t leave them at the curb.”

  Shredder tilted the shiny dome of his head. “Not from corporate, I don’t. From the model agencies and hospitality crews, yes. But a suit? What’s up with that? She’s probably sucking Murphy’s cock to keep him happy.”

  Cole slid the metal case into an overhead bin then relaxed back into his seat. On his way down, he slapped Shred on the top of his shiny scalp. “Don’t talk about Eloise that way, asshat. She’s a lady, not a whore. Not that it’s any of your business, but nothing’s up with her. I’m not seeing her.”

  “That’s a good thing, man. Never date anyone you work with. First rule of the front office.”

  Cole screwed up his face. “Y’know… I’ve never known why everyone always says that – don’t date a co-worker. What’s so terrible about it? It gives you something in common right from the get-go. You spend most of your waking time at work, it makes sense that’s how you’d meet someone.”

  “Hey, I’m not criticizing. We don’t have a regular-type job, Cole, in case you haven’t noticed. We meet women everywhere. You’re living, pussy-licking proof.”

  Cole scoffed. “Yeah. Well. The low-hanging fruit is always easiest to pick.”

  Shredders eyebrows went up, creating triple ridges o
n his shaved forehead. It reminded Cole of a little Shih Tzu or Bulldog. “So, you want the ones at the top of the tree, do you? You’ll need a ladder. A corporate one,” Shredder said with a waggle of his bushy eyebrows. “Remember. What goes up, must come down.”

  Cole waved his hand in dismissal. “Maybe you’re right. Our lives are too different. Guess I’ll have to get a copy of Ryder’s catalog.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  Shred leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Listen, Cole. Most of the team can’t tell when you’re bluffing, but I can. If Eloise means something to you, and it sounds like she does, you gotta go for it. Forget what the guys say, or the coach, or your parents. Differences are what make things interesting. It’d be a boring world if we were all the same.”

  Like the girls in Ryder’s fictitious catalog, Cole thought with a smirk. Boring. He had to admit it’s what drew him to Eloise. She was different. Smart. Took initiative; had more in her mental cupboard than powdered doughnuts, for sure. Plus, it didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous, with the kind of figure that he worshiped, the kind that swerved in and out in all the right places.

  In many ways, she reminded him of his mother, a strong-minded brunette beauty with strong convictions. Ironic that he should compare the two; when it was his mother’s deep-rooted faith creating part of his issue over El.

  Christ, some subliminal Oedipus complex much?

  He shuddered. The Catholic Church would have a heyday over that one. He loved his mom, but in a completely different way.

  In Eloise’s bed, he’d had the most incredible sex ever. He’d happily make love to her every night for the rest of his life if she hadn’t dropped that abortion bomb on him. And it wasn’t her fault. It tore at his soul that his friend, someone he knew and trusted, had committed such a heinous act. He knew things could never be the same between him and Trey from now on. Worse still, Trey may have scarred Eloise for life. To never have children? His family would be so disappointed. Theresa Fiorino would spend all day in church, praying for grandbabies. But then, prayer had certainly worked for his family in the past. Perhaps it would again. Hadn’t they made leaps and bounds in the infertility field in recent years?