His Game, Her Rules

by Charlene Groome

  “Don’t play around, Elle, I told you to watch yourself and to not bother with any of those guys. They’ll hurt you and leave you for dead, just like Mario did.”

  Eileen sits on her couch, pulling her feet behind her. “What are you talking about?” she asks, rubbing her temple to ease the tension of a soon-to-be-pounding headache.

  Her brother continues, “They only think of themselves, you know that? They get what they want and then leave you when they’ve had enough, or in your case, leave you when there’s a choice of three other women.”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” she says, coolly. “I can figure that one out for myself, Nick.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but honestly, it’s not serious.”

  It can’t be serious. I’m sure Ty doesn’t think last night will lead to anything; it was just sex, no emotions attached, right? Isn’t that how it should be with a superstar? He’s used to this sort of thing.

  “I’ve heard that one from you before,” her brother says. “And the next thing that will happen, he’ll sweep you off your feet and it will be serious and it will end with him breaking your heart.”

  She exhales and then says, “It’s not like that, Nick, so you don’t have to worry about me. I’m the skating coach, remember?”

  “If I don’t worry about you, who will? Is this okay with Uncle Gary? Does he know?”

  Eileen sits back on her couch and rubs her eyes. “Nothing is going on. Besides, I’m not a teenager.”

  “It says here, on page twelve.” She can hear him flipping the pages to get to the story. “Here it is . . . page twelve.... It’s not even in the sports section!” he exclaims. “It’s in the entertainment section, of all things! It says that you two are a couple.”

  “What?” she asks, bursting out laughing. “That’s crazy and totally not true.”

  “It says, ‘Caldwell Courts Coach. . . . Warriors right winger Ty Caldwell is rumored to be dating skating coach Eileen Francis, ice hockey Olympian and former pro of Canadian Women’s Hockey League.’ ” Nick pauses for a second and then reads, “ ‘Francis, who is taking over for Ritchie Forbes, until he comes back from a leave of absence due to family circumstances, is scheduled to return to the Warriors coaching staff sometime in October.’ ”

  “That’s news to me,” she says.

  “You didn’t know you were finished in October?” Nick asks harshly.

  Eileen presses her palm to her forehead trying to ease her headache. “No, they told me they weren’t certain on a date.”

  “If I were you, I would find out. What does your contract say?”

  Scared to answer his question, she hesitates. “Contract?”

  “Yeah, contract. You did sign a contract, didn’t you?”

  “Ah, not exactly.”

  “What do you mean?” Nick asks.

  “They asked me to work a month or so—”

  “They are paying you?”

  “Yes!” she snaps. “Yes, they are.”

  “That still doesn’t seem right,” Nick says, confused. “Why wouldn’t they give you a contract?”

  “Look, I don’t need the job; I took this job for the experience of teaching the pros. It’s not like this comes around all the time. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

  “If you don’t give them rules, they’ll walk all over you,” Nick warns.

  “I know, but this is a dream, Nick. Not every woman pro hockey player gets this chance. In fact, I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “Neither have I, but you still have to look out for yourself.”

  “I know,” she says, thinking about last night and knowing that Ty is sleeping in her bed. She could hang up and go back to bed. Maybe he would cuddle her. . . .

  “That’s not all the article says.”

  Eileen’s perfectly arched eyebrows heighten. “Oh, really? What else?” she asks, intrigued, going into the bathroom and taking out a bottle of Advil.

  “It says... ‘Eileen Francis is in a league of her own. She is the first woman to teach the Warriors, and with vast experience behind her, she deserves the position, says head coach, Steve Morrow. “Even though her position is temporary, it comes with many challenges,” he says. “Including meeting the team’s expectations and she does that well.” And Francis agrees. She says men have a hard time accepting a woman coaching in the National Hockey League, especially giving them tips and suggestions on improving their game. “They seem to be accepting me,” says Francis, ex-girlfriend of the legendary Mario Visconti, who is no stranger to the National Hockey League,’ ” Nick reads and takes a breath. “ ‘Although a relationship hasn’t been confirmed between Francis and Caldwell, a source says they have been spotted together off the ice at different local events.’ ”

  “What?” Eileen shrieks. “It says that?”

  “Yes!” Nick says. “You are quoted in the story. I sure hope you did talk to this reporter or this paper is full of lies and you can sue their asses.”

  “Yes, I did,” she moans and pops two pills and washes them down with a glass of water.

  “Be careful, Elle. They have a picture of you and Caldwell together.”

  “At the rink?” I hope.

  “It doesn’t look like it. Looks to me like you two were at a restaurant. It’s hard to tell.”

  Eileen is speechless. Was it someone at the club? She did remember people recognizing Ty. Maybe someone took a shot and she just so happens to be in the picture.

  “It looks like you’re holding hands.”

  Eileen can’t speak.

  “Holding hands?” She has to see the picture for herself. When did she hold his hand? At the club?

  “If the article is not true, I think you should call up this reporter and tell him to get the facts straight before writing about your personal life. Where did this guy get his information from anyway?” Nick asks, sounding disgusted.

  “I don’t know.” She sighs. “If the reporter starts writing that I’m pregnant with his child, then I’ll call him on it, but until then, I’m not wasting my time.”

  “That’s not like you, Elle. Usually you confront people and stick up for yourself.”

  “This doesn’t bother me.” This doesn’t bother me. “I don’t care what people think about me.”

  “You have changed,” Nick comments.

  “Not really. There are some things that I wouldn’t lose sleep over and this is one of them,” she says, remembering last night and what Ty did to her, how he held her and kissed her body while making love.

  “I want to set you up with someone I work with,” Nick says.

  “Hmm . . .” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose and inhaling a breath. Why don’t people think a woman can be single and happy?

  “He’s a good guy, plays one heck of a game of golf, loves dogs, has three of them, and owns his own place.”

  Eileen tries not to sound ungrateful for her brother’s matchmaking ability. “Sounds like a well-put-together guy,” she says, plunking herself down on the couch.

  “He is a good guy. . . . Can’t wait for you to meet him. Let me know when you’re out my way and I’ll set you two up.”

  “Thanks, Nick, but I’ll have to pass.”

  “You haven’t met him yet!”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “If it makes you feel better about it, Cathy says if she weren’t with me, she would date him.”

  Eileen relaxes her free arm to her side. “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know. Besides, my schedule is so full right now, I don’t have time to date.”

  “All right, but you should slow down. You don’t want to burn yourself out.”

  Eileen presses her palm to her forehead, trying to ease her headache. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Do me a favor and be careful? You can’t forget what Mario was like.”

  “How can I?” He broke her heart. She was in love with Mario until it was clear
he wasn’t as serious as Eileen thought. Did Mario think of her now? It’s been almost two years and she still thinks of him from time to time, wondering if he ever thinks of her.

  “You don’t want a repeat of that relationship. . . .” Nick’s voice trails off.

  “I know. I think I’ve learned my lesson. I appreciate your concern, I’ll be fine,” she says, easing him off the phone.

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Eileen clicks off the phone, carrying it into her kitchen, where she makes a pot of coffee. Her head feels like it’s in a vise. She’s hoping the caffeine will ease the tension.

  What time does Ty wake up on Sundays? Does he sleep in? What will she say to him when they face each other? Does he think this is a start to something between them?

  Don’t panic, don’t panic.

  Maybe he’ll know what to say. Maybe if she hops in the shower, he’ll get up, leave her a note, and be gone before she gets out so that they don’t have to speak.

  The phone rings again, and Eileen lets out a huge sigh and reaches for her phone on the kitchen counter.

  “Hello?” she answers.

  “Good morning, Elle!”

  “Mornin’, Brooke,” she says, trying to sound as energetic as her friend.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you. I figured you’d be up.”

  “Yeah, I’m up.”

  “Good. Just waiting to have coffee with a potential client,” she says. “This is the second person this week who wants to meet with me and do business.”

  “That’s an early-morning meeting you planned. And on a Sunday?”

  “Yeah, well, weekends seem to work best. Anyways, I got here early and decided to read the newspaper,” she says, taking a breath as if she’s trying hard to hold in her excitement. “You probably haven’t read it yet.... I can’t believe this! I just about fell off my chair. I don’t think you’re going to believe this either. But there’s an article written about you and Ty!”

  “I know, I know. I heard,” Eileen mumbles.

  “You heard?” Brooke asks, sounding disappointed that she wasn’t the first one to break the news. “How?”

  “Nick phoned me, and trust me, Ty and I are not dating,” Eileen stresses.

  “I thought you went out with him last night. Isn’t that a date?”

  She didn’t want to admit to her best friend that Ty spent the night. It’s so unlike Eileen, and she wouldn’t hear the end of it.

  “It wasn’t a date.” Eileen places a hand to her forehead. How many people would see this article? Let alone read it? She was sure the team would, or worse, Joe! Steve! Of course he’ll read the article—he’s quoted in it! Ugh! Rick, and Ted would see it too! How can she explain this? They can fire her. Oh, no! It’s like a teacher dating a student—it can’t happen. It shouldn’t happen. And who would they believe? A woman who wants to keep her job or a jock who is known for his rendezvous?

  Eileen tries to relax, watching the coffee maker drip and listening for it to percolate. “I’m his skating coach and we went out to discuss business.” It’s her story and she’s sticking to it.

  “Come on now, the guy is too hot to just have a business dinner with. There’s something more. There’s nothing wrong with seeking out a relationship with him,” her friend counsels. “Maybe you could learn new talents. You teach him if he teaches you a few things,” she teases.

  “Brooke!” Eileen exclaims.

  “Well?” her friend says playfully.

  “I am a professional! I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

  “Sure, you’re not,” Brooke says. “We need to work on your love life.”

  “Since when did my love life become a task?”

  “Since walking dogs became a hobby.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Even if there was something going on between the two of you, I don’t think you would tell me.”

  “Of course I would tell you!” Eileen says, a little disappointed that her friend was right.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I’d tell anyone about you and hottie Ty Caldwell.”

  “There is nothing going on,” she says. “You know, just a few outings here and there. That’s all.”

  Just then, Eileen hears her bedroom door squeak open.

  “I think he’s better than what you’re saying,” Brooke says. “I finally saw that Toyota commercial he’s in. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Well, you know that—who doesn’t? Is that why you’re lying low and not going after him—because he’s already seeing someone?”

  Eileen can feel her cheeks warm, and her eyes are stuck on Ty, who is facing her and smiling, shirtless, in his Calvin Klein boxers. She eyes him up and down and has to remember to close her mouth. He is amazing, just how Brooke described him. His abs and thighs are well defined, bringing back memories of last night.

  Brooke breaks her concentration. “Are you going to be home later? I’ll stop by.”

  She’s trying to give her friend her undivided attention, but is a little distracted by his physique and wide smile. “Uh, um, I don’t know,” Eileen answers in a daze. “Call me.”

  “Then you should go for him. What do you have to lose?”

  Eileen smiles at Ty and looks back at the coffee maker, trying to snap out of the trance she’s in. She grabs two cups from the cupboard, holds up a cup to Ty, and mouths, Do you want one?

  Ty nods his head in response and walks closer to her. Trying to juggle the phone between her ear and shoulder, she carries the mugs to the coffee maker and pours the coffee. Ty walks closer to her, but instead of grabbing the full cup of coffee like Eileen expects, he wraps one hand around her waist in a strong, secure hold. Eileen smiles when he nestles his lips into her neck and instant tremors of seduction come over her. Wow! Is he amazing!

  “A lot. I . . . I have a . . . a lot to lose and I’m trying to be very, uh, careful,” she stammers.

  “Well, I say go for him. Mario treated you like crap. I’m sure Ty is different. Judging by all the publicity he gets by visiting sick kids, I haven’t heard anything bad about him.”

  “Ah, no, no, I haven’t either,” Eileen says. She’s trying to concentrate on her conversation with her best friend, but Ty doesn’t make it easy for her, as he sweeps her long hair over her shoulders and explores the back of her neck with his lips.

  “There you go. There’s your answer.”

  Ty’s hand is creeping up the back of her tank top, feeling her bare skin and massaging it with nice easy strokes, enough for her to feel like putty and want to crawl back into bed with him. It doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

  “My answer?” Eileen asks while staring at Ty.

  “Are you okay?” Brooke asks. “You seem distracted.”

  “Oh, no, no. I’m fine. I better go,” Eileen says. “I’ll call you later.” Eileen hangs up the phone, dropping her hand, tossing the phone to the counter.

  “Busy morning?” Ty asks, embracing her in a hug. “Ms. Popular,” he teases.

  “Sorry about that. I don’t usually have phone calls before nine. Did you sleep well?” she asks, breaking away so that she can see his face, getting a sweep of his short stubble that must have grown overnight.

  “You have a comfy bed,” he says as he reaches for his cup of coffee. “I can get used to sleeping here.”

  She opens the refrigerator door. “Keep dreaming,” she teases. “Cream or milk?”

  “This is good.” He takes a sip. “I take it black.”

  Eileen takes out a carton of milk. “Great. Because I don’t have cream.”

  “Is everything okay?” he asks, bringing his mug to his mouth.

  She pours milk into her coffee cup and reaches for a spoon in the drawer.

  “Apparently there’s an article printed in this morning’s paper about us,” she says, stirring her coffee.

  “You’re surprised?”

  “I was afraid this would happen.” She takes a sip, puts her mug down on the kitchen count
er, and then says, “I’m very surprised.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not like we go out all the time. I wonder if that Dell guy said something to reporters.” She crosses her arms to her chest.

  Ty shrugs. “He could have.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Even if he did, it’s no big deal.”

  “Nothing’s a big deal to you, is it?” she says, eyeing him with a neediness she knows he can fulfill.

  “Stuff like that doesn’t bother me the way it bothers you.”

  “I guess I worry about my reputation.”

  “I don’t care what people think of me. I’m human, and I just happen to play this country’s most popular sport.”

  “I guess so,” she agrees. “When you put it that way . . .” Eileen picks up her mug and takes a sip of coffee.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about what other people say about you. You have to do what you think is right for you,” he says.

  “I don’t care what people think about me, but I do care what people say. This could hurt my career.”

  “No, it can’t.”

  “Yes, it can,” she says sternly. “I’ve worked really hard to get where I am, and it could be over before I know it.”

  “You shouldn’t care so much about other people’s opinion. It will get you nowhere, and create negative energy.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Caldwell.”

  He laughs. “That’s a good one. It does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” he teases and takes a gulp of coffee.

  “Well, if you want to read the article, apparently it’s in the entertainment section.”

  “You sound insulted.”

  “I am,” she says, cupping the mug with both hands and holding it up to her chin.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s an untrue story, that’s why. And why is it entertainment? Why is it even a story?”

  “Is it untrue? They knew something that we didn’t, don’t you think?” he asks, putting his mug down on the counter, leaning against the wall of the kitchen.

  “We can’t go on like this. If anyone finds out you spent the night . . .” she says with worry, trying not to be distracted by his almost naked body. “I don’t want to know what the newspaper articles say about me,” she says, wiping her eyebrow in distress.