Page 94 of Ice Cold Hearts
The effort he’s making to show me I’m not alone eases some of the tension I had during the call and makes me grateful for the friends I’ve found in him and Oliver. No matter how unstable or aloof my family might be, I know that those men at least are a stable and (mostly) emotionally healthy constant in my life.
So I’m able to honestly say, “I’m good,” about them and mean it wholeheartedly.
When we exit the locker room, Oliver is waiting there for us.
“Why aren’t you on the bus?” I ask.
“The toenails sent the bus on without us. Apparently, there’s a car waiting for us outside the stadium.” He scoffs. “What do they think we’re going to do, hide from them or something?”
I laugh because it’s kind of true. We’ve been avoiding any branch of the management and PR teams even more aggressively than usual. I’m only slightly ashamed to admit that I’ve actually run from them when they’ve tried to pry information about Emily from me.
Oliver wasn’t kidding. There’s a limo waiting for us right in front of the team exit, and to avoid any possible confusion, the driver is standing in front of the car holding a sign with our names on it.
I guess they’ve had enough of us avoiding them.
“Well, at least it’s a nice car instead of a police van,” Oliver jokes. “I was half expecting to see a squad of the toenails out here with tranquilizer guns.”
Alexei shakes his head disapprovingly at him, but he’s smiling, nonetheless.
“I wouldn’t count that out until we see the inside of the car,” he says.
“Was that a joke? Who are you?” Oliver teases.
Alexei just rolls his eyes and slides into the car.
We try to make conversation on the ride back to the hotel, but every attempt sputters out after a few moments. Even though we planned out what we’d say to management when something like this came up, all three of us are on edge.
Dinner isn’t much better. We’re up in the penthouse suite of one of the best hotels in this city, but we don’t even get to enjoy the view because Cliff has closed all the curtains in the dining area. He’s more poised than the lackey they sent to corner Alexei a while ago, but his posture makes it clear that he’s nervous. I haven’t worked with Cliff enough personally to know whether that’s going to be a benefit for us or not yet.
Aside from placing our orders with room service, there’s not much conversation. It’s clear that Cliff is hoping we’ll speak first, but if I’ve learned anything from my father, it’s that the first one to speak in a negotiation immediately loses the upper hand. It’s only when our plates are nearly cleared that Cliff gives up and starts to speak.
“Now,” he says crisply, “we’ve tried to reach out to you men a few times through different departments about your relationship with this Ellen girl, and we haven’t had much success finding a mutually beneficial time to sit and have a chat.”
“Emily,” Alexei corrects tersely.
As pissed off as I am, I can’t help but be amused by his ability for wording things. On the one hand, calling flat out avoidance and running away a lack of a “mutually beneficial time” is a hilarious understatement, but on the other hand, anyone who can twist and polish up a situation like that doesn’t seem like someone terribly trustworthy.
Cliff stares at us for an awkward moment like he’s waiting for us to start spilling our guts. When we don’t, he continues on.
“So, with all the increasing media interest in yet another of your unusual relationships, we’ve decided it’s important for us to get some clarification on the matter.” Cliff clears his throat. “These rumors about you and this girl are starting to derail the team’s PR and marketing strategies, among other things. So, is this a fling? Is this more of a commitment thing like with the other one… what was her name? Callie?”
“Colleen,” I growl, ready to jump up and send this man flying into a wall.
“Yes,” he nods. “Cassie, that’s exactly what I said. So, is the thing with this girl the same as that, or is it more like a quick flash in the pan like Rochelle?”
“Rachel.” Oliver scowls.
“Yes, yes,” he says waving his hands dismissively. “Renee. So, which one is it with this Erin girl? Serious or fling? The pictures they’ve managed to get makes it seem more like a fling, especially the ones from the hospital parking garage. So, is it?”
I swear I can hear the vein in Alexei’s neck pulsing from across the table. I’m not doing much better, and neither is Oliver. We’ve both got our fists clenched so tightly our knuckles are paper-white.
“And what’s the deal with the kid’s father? Can you give us some clarity on that? It would be nice to have a plan on how to spin that story before the press gets it from somewhere else,” He continues obliviously.
There’s no penalty box here. If you start a fight here, you’re going to get benched at best.
The image of Emily holding up her fingers for Audrey to blow out the candles pops into my mind unprompted. If I lost my temper, I know she’d understand and help me through it, but I promised her I’d try to be better at dealing with shit like this. I take a long, slow inhale, and as I exhale, I force myself to unclench my fists one finger at a time. It’s not exactly the candle technique I saw her do with Audrey, but it still has the same effect. I am now the master of my anger instead of the other way around.
“First of all, she’s not some girl. She’s a grown woman and should be referred to as such. Anything else is disgustingly infantilizing. And maybe you need to be having a conversation with your marketing and social media teams about the quality of their work instead of us. If the campaigns are as derailed as you say they are by petty gossip and people trying to put their noses where they don’t belong, then you need a new creative team. Oh, and here’s one last thing to think about. If you’re planning to take us to task over something that is none of your business, the least you can do is make sure your lackeys get her name right. It’s Emily, by the way. E-M-I-L-Y.” I spell it as slowly and condescendingly as possible. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to be rested for our last meet and greets with the fans before our flight home tomorrow.”