His Game, Her Rules

by Charlene Groome

  She rolls her eyes. “I think you’re trying to start one.”

  The waitress delivers her drink. Eileen takes her glass in her hand and takes a sip. “What?” she asks, feeling self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She takes a drink.

  “Okay, I’ve started a rumor,” he says.

  She laughs. “Yeah, sure.”

  “No, really. I hope you’re not mad, but some of the guys asked me if we were dating and I couldn’t lie.”

  “You mean you lied,” she corrects him, trying to keep her cool. There is no point in throwing a fit now.

  “Well, no. I told them that we’ve been on a couple of dates.”

  “We met once and it was a meeting.”

  “Yeah, and we had dinner the other night and again tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to play hard-to-get, Ms. Francis.”

  Usually she would argue, but something about Ty makes her smile like a lovesick teenager. “You didn’t really tell anyone, did you?” she says. When he doesn’t respond, she can feel her cheeks flush and panic overcomes her.

  “Why would you do that?” she asks in a soft but striking tone.

  “It’s not a big deal, is it? I thought it would save a lot of confusion.”

  “No one is supposed to know that I’ve . . .” She pauses, trying to choose the right word. “I’ve met up with you tonight. I don’t want people to know because they’ll start assuming things that aren’t true. Besides, I don’t want your teammates or management to find out. The guys won’t take me seriously. They’ll think I took the job to get a date.”

  “Relax. They don’t think it’s a date date—they think we’re hanging out.”

  “Oh, yeah? And why would they think that? Are you assuming that’s what they think? You and I both know that’s not how it will be taken.”

  Ty takes a gulp of beer. “Just a few guys know that we’re out tonight.”

  Eileen fidgets with her straw, thinking hard about how the guys will react to her when they find out that she’s spending time tonight with Ty Caldwell. Her gut tells her it’s a bad idea, but her mind can’t help but think of the possibilities of being with him.

  “I want to make something clear,” she begins, playing with her straw. “Although this may seem like a date to you, it’s not, so I don’t want you thinking that I’m coming over to your place tonight for a nightcap. It’s not going to happen.”

  Ty relaxes in his chair. “I didn’t have those intentions,” he says, playing innocent, but his sneaky grin tells her otherwise.

  “You didn’t?” She doesn’t believe him.

  “No. I want to get to know you.” He shrugs and leans in to grab his beer.

  Why me? He can have any woman and he wants to get to know me?

  “Really?”

  “You seem disappointed.”

  “I’m not! No, just surprised.”

  Ty takes a drink and then says, “You have that look on your face.”

  “I’m just happy we got that out of the way,” she says and takes her glass in her hand. “I feel so much better. Except when you look at me like that.”

  “I’m trying to figure you out.”

  The waitress comes by the table. “Would you like to order?” she asks.

  Ty glances from the waitress to Eileen. They both grab the menu off the table and their eyes skim the page.

  Eileen looks up at the waitress. “I’ll have the turkey club on multigrain ciabatta bread, no mayo, please, with a tossed salad and your light Italian dressing on the side.”

  “Make that two,” Ty says. “Except I’ll have mine the way it comes, on white is fine, and we’ll both have another drink.” He looks at Eileen for reassurance before the waitress leaves the table.

  Eileen nods. “So you trust my decisions.”

  “It’s helping me in practice.”

  There’s a moment of silence, and then Ty says, “You look really good.”

  She smiles at his comment.

  “I need to ask you something.” He pauses. “What brings a woman like you to the NHL? I know you have the experience, and it shows, but really, it’s gotta be a tough job to take on.”

  “It’s what I do,” she says without hesitation. She flattens her lips. “What better way to enhance my skills than by working with other professionals?”

  He nods as though he understands. “Tell me about your other jobs.”

  “Is this an interview?” she asks with a slight tease in her voice.

  “Are all your skating classes with rambunctious children?”

  Eileen laughs. “So the truth comes out. I thought the kids were a breeze?”

  “They’re kids, but they were excited about skating.”

  “Well, I teach kids the basic skills and really anyone learning how to skate and to play hockey,” she says. “I enjoy teaching kids the most.” She smiles. “They are so eager to learn and they get excited when they’ve mastered a skill.”

  Ty’s eyes find hers. His eyebrows lift. “I remember those days,” he says. “It was hard then, trying to beat the other guys in a scrimmage.”

  “It’s a great feeling, isn’t it?” she recalls.

  “Yeah,” Ty says with a partial grin. “It makes you strive harder the next time. When I was a kid, I hated power skating, hated it, but I knew I had to do it if I wanted to succeed. And I had a vision.”

  “I don’t think anyone enjoys power skating,” she says with a chuckle. “You do it because you want to be better.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “The adult classes I teach are fun too, but there’s something special about teaching children.”

  The waitress wanders to their table with their food and sets it down.

  “Did you always want to play hockey?”

  “I did.” He nods his head. “Yeah, but it wasn’t in the plan.” He moves his chair in closer to the table.

  She takes a bite of her sandwich as she waits for him to continue. When she swallows her food, she finishes her first drink and sets down the glass in front of her.

  “You see the plan was I would go to university, just like my brother did, and become a doctor.”

  Eileen smiles and can’t hold back her laugh. “Seriously?” she asks. “A doctor? You’re joking!”

  “No, I’m not,” Ty says, his lips curving into a grin. “Why do you find that so funny?”

  Eileen tries to regain her composure. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t picture you as a doctor.”

  “You’re not the only one,” he admits with a smile and takes a drink. “My father is a doctor, so is my brother, and all I wanted to do was play hockey, so you can imagine my dad’s fear when I didn’t want to go to university. All my life I worked hard in school because I thought I was going to join the family practice, and before I graduated I was off to play junior in Moose Jaw and from there, I never looked back.... I was thankful.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. You have to do what you’re good at, right?” Eileen says. “You’re successful in your profession.”

  Ty nods, accepting the compliment, and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “My dad doesn’t understand that I wasn’t cut out to be a doctor. I respect him for what he does and I think he’s okay now with what I’m doing, but at the time it was a real struggle.”

  “Well, you’re in the NHL,” Eileen says happily. “And that right there is a career accomplishment.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Was your father ever supportive when you played junior?”

  “Not really. I think he thought hockey was just a sport I played. Don’t get me wrong—he loves the game too. He was the one who drove me to my five o’clock morning practices before I could drive, but he really wanted me to succeed in school. Education means a lot to him.”

  Ty takes another bite of his club sandwich.

  “Do you see your parents often?” she asks, intrigued by his family and wanting to know more.

  “Sure, w
e talk and I see my brother once in a while. We get along, always have.”

  “And your mom? Has she always been supportive?” Eileen inquires.

  “Oh, sure. My mom and I talk. She’s been a wife and a mother her whole life and doesn’t care what we do as long as we’re happy.”

  “That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

  Ty nods his head. “My mom encouraged me to continue to play, and that of course would set my father off. He would say, ‘Son, you’ll go to university, I don’t care if you play hockey while you’re there, as long as you go. Make me proud,’ ” Ty says, trying to imitate a deeper voice like his father’s.

  “Look at you now!” Eileen reminds him. “I’m sure he’s really proud of you.”

  Ty shrugs. “I remember the fear I had, telling my father that I wanted to stay in Saskatchewan and play hockey. I pleaded with him that if I was there for more than two years, I would come home and register for university. I prayed that didn’t happen.”

  “I bet that wasn’t an easy conversation.”

  “No, and the first thing I thought of was, what will my father’s reaction be? I asked the coach in Moose Jaw if I could play and go to university, and he laughed at me,” Ty says, breaking into a light chuckle. “I didn’t know any better. He said I needed to stay where I was and play professional hockey because playing in the minors is professional. I wanted to explore my options. I knew I wasn’t cut out to be a doctor, but my father wouldn’t believe it.”

  “So what happened when you told your father?”

  “At first, I couldn’t tell him. I was scared to hear what he was going to say. I knew his reaction—I just didn’t know his answer.”

  “Naturally.”

  “I knew if I was going to continue playing, I had to figure out where I would live because my father would tell me to go live somewhere else, that was a given. I ended up talking to the coach, and he told me not to worry, that I would billet, stay in a house with another family and another teammate. He even offered to talk to my father for me, but my father is not one to be easily convinced,” Ty reflects. “I thought I could handle it best. So I sat my parents down for our big talk. I prepared by practicing on my brother. I knew he would be honest with me. Then, when I told them, my father was mad and he was quiet, and usually my dad always has something to say.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Oh, I don’t worry about it anymore,” Ty says and takes a drink. “I can’t be bothered by it. I’m sure he’s over it. I know I am.”

  “You’ve been playing for the Warriors for what? Three years?” she guesses.

  It takes him a second to respond. “Yes, I guess it will be come this season.”

  “It’s gone by fast,” she states and he nods with agreement. “Do you think you’ll stay here?” Eileen takes a bite of her sandwich.

  “I’m hoping they’ll renew my contract—at least then I would feel like I have a permanent home.”

  “It must be real nerve-wracking, huh?” Eileen asks, curious what it would be like getting paid to play the game she loved. “Not knowing where you’ll end up?” She pushes her empty plate away.

  “I guess so,” he says and then sighs. “I’m happy to play. It would be nice to play here for another few years though. You never know. Sometimes it works out and other times you’re due for a change.”

  The waitress swings by the table. “Another drink?”

  Ty looks at Eileen for an answer. “We probably should go if we want to make the show,” he says.

  “No, thanks,” Eileen agrees.

  The waitress leaves and returns with the bill. Ty grabs the paper and looks it over. Eileen unzips her purse, but Ty already has his wallet out and slaps down a fifty.

  She takes some cash out of her wallet. “This isn’t a date, so I’m putting in my share,” she says.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says and slides the money and bill over to the end of the table for the waitress to pick up. “Ready to go?”

  “No way,” Eileen says, feeling uneasy about his generosity. “I have to put some money in.” She holds two twenties in her hand.

  Ty waves his hand and says, “Don’t worry about it, I got it.”

  “This isn’t a date,” she reminds him with a sharp eye.

  “Uh-huh,” he mutters.

  She finds it hard to keep a straight face. “I don’t take money from strangers.”

  He gives her a playful look. “I’m no stranger.” He smiles. “I thought we went through this before.”

  She smiles back.

  “We’ve got to go,” he says and he stands up. “You don’t have to be so difficult.”

  “I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m being fair,” she says, standing up and taking her purse in hand, wishing she could just grab hold of his hand as they walk out the door.

  They decide to leave her car parked at the pub and take one vehicle, as parking is always a challenge downtown. It doesn’t take long for Ty to get recognized between parking his truck and walking to the club. They pass people and hear whispers: “Is that Ty Caldwell?” and “I think that’s Ty Caldwell—who’s he with?”

  When they approach the club doors, someone standing in the line announces, “Hey, that’s Ty Caldwell! Cool! I wonder who else is here!” Ty is grinning from ear to ear, proudly walking to the doors, where the bouncer nods his head in approval and shakes Ty’s hand before they walk inside.

  Eileen glances back, feeling privileged that they didn’t have to pay a cover charge or wait in the long line. Ty grabs her hand as though it’s expected for him to have a woman by his side.

  She curls her fingers around his larger hand, her body light as a feather.

  “This isn’t supposed to be a date,” she whispers in his ear.

  “Can’t we pretend tonight? At least pretend that you like me,” he whispers back, his lips touching the top of her ear.

  “Caldwell!” a guy shouts from a distance and charges across the room carrying a drink at shoulder height, trying hard not to bump into people and spill his drink.

  When the stranger gets closer, he yells, “How are you, buddy? It’s been a while,” he says and throws a hand on Ty’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, it has,” Ty admits. “How are you?”

  “Good, very good. What’s new?” the guy asks and looks at Eileen, then at Ty.

  “Not a lot, training for the new season,” Ty says, still holding on to Eileen’s hand.

  “And who’s this beautiful lady you’re attached to?”

  “This is Eileen,” Ty says smugly, making eye contact with her. “Elle, this is Bernie.” They shake hands.

  “Nice to meet you,” Bernie says, giving Eileen a once-over and then turns to Ty and says, “Maybe we can go for a beer, or something. It’s still poker night on Wednesdays—feel free to join us if you wanna.”

  “Thanks,” Ty says. “I just might. We’re going to grab our seats. I’ll see you around.” Still gripping Eileen’s hand, Ty leads her past Bernie and right into another group waving their hands to get his attention.

  “Who was that?” Eileen asks.

  “No one important,” he whispers.

  “Ty!” another guy shouts.

  Ty ignores the man and looks at Eileen. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Please.”

  “Me too. We’ll grab something at the bar,” he says.

  “Aren’t you going to go over and talk to those people who are calling for you?”

  “No,” he says, stiffening.

  She looks at him and his eyes are glued to her, giving his full attention. They approach the bar, and Ty lets go of her hand and places his on the counter. He looks at her. “What would you like?”

  “I’ll have my usual,” she says, wondering if he’ll remember.

  Ty grins at her and looks at the bartender. “Can I get a rum and Diet Coke and one bottle of Bud?”

  “I got it,” Eileen says and reaches for her purse.

&n
bsp; “No, please, I got it,” Ty insists and takes out a twenty.

  “It’s on me tonight, Caldwell,” the bartender says.

  Ty holds up the bottle and says, “Thanks,” and hands Eileen her drink.

  “Thank you,” she says to the bartender and then says to Ty, “I’ll pay for the next round.”

  “You need to learn to relax,” he whispers in her ear. She feels his nose tickle her skin as though he’s going to kiss her. “It’s not a big deal.”

  To Eileen, it is a big deal since she has no intention of it being a real date. She doesn’t want him to think of her as wanting a handout; she is more than capable of paying her own way. Yet she feels like it’s a formula for a date, and she likes this, likes being with Ty. He keeps her guessing as to what he’s going to do next.

  “I am relaxed,” she tells him.

  “Good. Should we go find our seats?” he asks, leading her in that direction.

  “Sure,” she answers, taking a sip of her drink as she follows. “There’re a lot of people here. Where should we sit?”

  “Our seats are upstairs.”

  Why is she so surprised by his royal treatment?

  They head to the balcony and scan the room. When Ty’s eyes catch the RESERVED sign, he picks it up to read the name on the guest list.

  “This is us,” he says and sits down on a roomy leather love seat. There are a half dozen of these couches, mostly reserved for the elite or friends of the club’s owners.

  “Perfect!” she says and takes a seat beside Ty. “What a great view of the stage,” she says as she looks ahead and places her drink down on a table in front of them.

  “Not bad,” Ty agrees, scanning the room.

  “Caldwell?” a guy shouts out approaching the table. When Ty looks up, there is a round-bellied guy holding a bottle of beer in one hand and smiling at him. “I’m a big fan,” he says, breathless. “The name’s Dell.” The man extends his chubby hand. “Well, my friends call me Dell.... Wow, and they’re not going to believe that I met you. Wait ’til I tell them this.”

  “Hi, Dell,” Ty says, shifting in his seat.

  “Can I get an autograph? Oh, wait, I don’t have anything to write with,” he says, frantically searching his front pockets.

  “I think I have a pen,” Eileen offers and opens her purse. “Here you go.” She hands it to Ty, thinking that when she’s with him, she should always carry one since this is becoming a usual thing.