Kane (Face-Off 2)

I switch over to the other line before the caller hangs up again and get my pen and notepad ready. “This is Kennedy Lockwood.”

“Hi, Kennedy,” he says, his voice thick and modulated. “This is Alex Parker. We met in the locker room at the Wells Fargo Center a while back. You gave me your card and said to call if I found something news worthy.”

I am relieved but a little nervous for this call. Maybe I can get an exclusive interview with the former King of Scandals. That would help rake in a few bucks to keep Sports Buzz afloat for at least another month before having to dump more cash into this sinking ship.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Alex?” I keep my tone calm and cheerful, hoping he has something big for me to write about.

“I know Charlotte Coachman has you keeping tabs on me. She admitted it to me last night.” He laughs into the phone. “My girls is protective of me.”

Hello, awkwardville.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Alex.”

A few beats pass between us before he says, “I have a story for you. I was hoping you were available tomorrow afternoon.”

“What kind of story? About you?”

“Yes…sort of. Charlotte is co-hosting a Youth Basketball Skills Clinic with Philly Clean to raise money for drug awareness and research. But I plan to surprise her at the event.”

Sinking my elbow into the refinished wood, I prop myself up while holding the phone to my ear and start scribbling notes about Charlotte and the event. “Surprise her how? Charity events like hers are news worthy, but I’m not so sure how I would fit in. You can try the Philadelphia Inquirer or the Northeast Times.”

“No, I think you are perfect for the job. Sports Buzz is the only paper that hasn’t trashed me, and I know you have an understanding with Charlotte. She seems to like you. I’m sure you already know her boss and my godfather, Mickey Donoghue, kept us apart for months, all because of his no dating clients rule. Well, I found a way around his rules, and I’m getting my girl back. For once, I want someone to write an article about me being decent and not another scandal. Plus, it will give her clinic and the charity exposure. It’s a win-win for everyone.”

I knew Charlotte, aka Coach, had it bad for Alex after she had asked me to tail him and make sure he was staying out of trouble. But I had no idea they were so serious. I assumed she was asking as his agent, which is not unheard of when it comes to star players. Alex Parker is the King of Scandals in the hockey world—or at least he was before he met Coach. The last incident involving Alex the news outlets named Puck of Shame, and he sure earned that reputation.

But, if there’s one thing I have learned from Sydney, it’s that even smutty books have a happy ending. “Sure, I’d love to help you, Alex. When and where is the event?”

He breathes into the phone, sounding relieved. “Thank you, Kennedy. The Skills Clinic starts tomorrow morning at the event center on the Strickland University campus. I was planning to surprise Charlotte in the afternoon, but if you can meet with my teammates, Tyler Kane and Carter Donovan, beforehand, that would be great. They’re helping me organize everything with Charlotte’s clients. I’ll give them your phone number if that’s okay.”

Tyler Kane is the star center for the Philadelphia Flyers. He’s also the highest paid player in the NHL with the ego and looks to match. He’s a mega babe—short blond hair, sun-kissed skin, and wide blue eyes that jump off his face during every interview. I have a slight crush on him from watching him play. He sure knows how to tear it up on the ice, which makes me wonder what he’d be like in the bedroom.

And Carter Donovan is nothing to sneeze at. He’s bigger, more toned and taller than Tyler Kane, but he oozes just as much sex appeal with his scruffy dark beard and rugged good looks. For most of the season, he’s been sporting the lumberjack look that a lot of guys do because of superstition though I have never understood that tactic.

Alex is new to the team, but I have a serious fangirl, freak out moment knowing that Alex wants me to meet with his teammates. I’m dying on the inside, so excited I have trouble forming actual words for a minute.

“Yeah, that works for me.” My voice is level and calm, unlike how I feel on the inside. “Just have Donovan or Kane call me to setup a time for us to meet.”

I squeal on the inside with delight, the prospect of one of them calling me too much to handle after such a long day on the road. And to think I almost missed the chance because of Sydney blabbing about cocks.

“And just so you know, Charlotte’s entire client list will be there. You can have all-access exclusives with whoever you want.”

Some players are near impossible to get within a five-foot radius. I have been dying to get an interview with NBA hotshot Dante Fisher, for over a year. Even after helping Coach out with Alex, I still haven’t been able to touch him. It also doesn’t help that he plays for the Chicag

o Bulls and is only in town a few times per year. I sure as hell can’t afford to fly out there just to stalk him. The opportunity Alex is giving me is like hitting the sports lottery.

“Count me in.” The childlike excitement is evident in my voice.

“Great. Thank for doing this, Kennedy. Well, I better let you go. It’s Friday night, and I’m sure you have other plans.”

Nope, not even close. I have the dating life of a sixty-year-old woman. My life is nothing but work. The last sex I had over the past few months was with a vibrator or vicariously through one of Sydney’s books. She writes some real steamy stuff.

“Thanks, Alex. I’m looking forward to the clinic. Have a good night.”

After I hang up with Alex, I write down a few questions I want to ask tomorrow. This event will be the talk of the sports world. Sports Buzz needs a boost now that people are comparing it to the TMZ of sports. I take my career serious, and comments like that offend me. I did not spend four years studying journalism at NYU to let it go to waste.

Despite the late hour, I make another pot of coffee, because I need to finish my articles by morning. The worst part about being a writer is not having the words to put on the page. Sometimes, I stare at the screen for hours until I find inspiration, and thinking about the event tomorrow has me so distracted.

I turn on the radio and sink into the high back comfy chair, staring out the window that overlooks the noisy street.