18

The whole day was a nightmare. Gage and Laurel dealt with the police, hotel management, the press, and the team. It was chaotic and instead of their usual morning skate, Laurel had sequestered the team in the hotel. She hadn’t eaten, showered or been online, yet she felt like she’d run a marathon. Gage finally got her to slow down long enough to shower and get ready for the game tonight, but they’d both been on the phone most of the day. Matt wasn’t dead, but he’d been rushed to the hospital so his family had to be notified, the press dealt with, and dozens of details that kept them on the phone or their computers.

She gathered the team in the locker room and made sure to close the door as she looked around. Part of her was angry at Matt for putting her in yet another untenable situation. The rest of her was sad and horrified he’d been in such bad shape and no one had known. The doctors had told Gage that it had been an accidental overdose but there wouldn’t be any details until his family allowed the team to make statements. All they knew was that he was currently stable.

“Does anyone want to talk?” she asked, leaning against the wall and looking around. “I don’t have any idea where to start with what happened today.”

“Shit.” Sergei shook his head in frustration. “What was he thinking?”

“He’s an asshole and I’m sorry he’s in such rough shape, but it was inevitable,” someone called out.

“I understand he wasn’t popular, but he’s still one of us, so act like it. You don’t have to actually care, but you damn well better fake it in public.” Laurel was firm on this.

“Bristol is on her way now,” Gage spoke up. Bristol McFay was the assistant to the team’s head of Public Relations, Manny Suarez. “She just landed and will be on the rest of the road trip with us while Manny handles things from Anchorage. If you have questions about what to say and to whom, talk to Bristol.”

“I’m going to have to make some kind of statement before the game, but the rest of you need to keep it simple, something to the effect of ‘you’re praying for him’ or ‘you wish him well’ or whatever. Nothing else. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded.

“This probably isn’t going away any time soon,” Marshall said. “After the scene he made in the lobby last night, someone undoubtedly saw it and will bring up the fact that he was out of control.”

“The executive staff will worry about that,” Gage interjected. “The only thing we want the team to focus on is winning. We’ve been hot the last couple of games, so let’s keep it up. Is there anything else we need to address regarding Matt before the game?”

No one said anything so Gage took his leave and Laurel got into game strategy for the night. She kept it short, leaving them to mull things over in their own way. Whether any of them were truly worried about him she didn’t know, but based on what she’d seen and heard so far, no one liked Matt.

She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse, because it was still sad. Had he been using drugs all along? How had no one noticed? She had a million questions but there was nothing for her to do short-term and her job tonight was to get through the game as professionally as possible. They’d head to Anaheim afterwards and she’d have to get the team on the ice for a morning skate before tomorrow night’s game. She had too much to do to think too hard about Matt, which made her feel even worse. How had a talented, handsome professional athlete like that managed to alienate almost everyone he played and worked with?

“Laurel?” Dani stuck her head in the door of the office Laurel was using.

“Hey. Come on in.”

“Are you okay? I wanted to check on you.”

“Yeah, I’m just…shocked. I really don’t know him and our only contact has been butting heads, but I don’t wish this kind of thing on anyone.”

“I think that’s how we all feel. He’s such a jerk, no one’s really close to him. I think Logan partied with him some, but even he got tired of Matt’s attitude. It’s just shocking that he would OD… You think he did it on purpose?”

“You mean like a suicide attempt?” Laurel wrinkled her nose. “God, that’s awful. I really hope it was an accident.”

“Accident or suicide, I don’t think either is preferable to the other.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Well, I just wanted to check on you. I’ve got work to do but I’m always around if you need me.”

“I know. I appreciate it. Maybe we can get a drink after the game.”

“Let me know.”


Laurel hadn’t known what to expect from the team, but a 7-0 shutout hadn’t been it. They played like a team on a mission and while it was exciting professionally, she hoped it wouldn’t slay Matt in the court of public opinion. She’d been getting texts and voicemails from friends and coaches around the league with both questions and advice, but she hadn’t spoken to anyone outside the Blizzard organization. Honestly, she didn’t know what to say.

“How are you feeling right now, Coach?” one of the press corps asked her in the post-game interview.

“Obviously, we’re always happy with a win, but there’s a bit of a dark cloud tonight, thinking about Matt.”

“Do you have any updates on what happened?” someone else asked.

“We don’t have any information,” Laurel said, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “We’ll make a statement once we hear from the doctors, but until then there isn’t a lot of information.”

The questions went on for too long but she finally got away and was grateful when Gage pulled her into a limousine while the rest of the team went to Anaheim on the bus.

“What are we doing?” she asked, sinking in a plush leather seat and leaning back.

“We’re taking a long, leisurely ride to Anaheim,” he responded, reaching for her. “If anyone asks, we had a strategy meeting.”

“What are we really doing?” she smiled.

“Whatever you want.”

“I want to sleep for about a week but somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen between here and Anaheim.”

“Sadly, not even I can provide that right now.” He stroked his hand down her arm. “How are you doing in general, though?”

“I’m okay. I feel bad for Matt and don’t know how I’m supposed to behave when no one liked this guy, myself included. Mostly they’ve been glad he hasn’t been playing, and I have to admit I’m kind of relieved too. What does that say about us?”

“He’s a jerk,” Gage said simply. “Vegas couldn’t wait to get rid of him. Lonnie Finch warned me that he was a handful, but he puts up good numbers and I figured I didn’t give a shit how much of an ass he was as long as he scored. Unfortunately, I miscalculated. He’s like cancer to this team. I just wish I’d figured it out sooner and shipped him off to be somebody else’s problem.”

“Me too.” She closed her eyes. “Do you think I could just rest my eyes for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“Way to celebrate getting back together,” she snickered as she dozed off.


With Laurel fast asleep in the bedroom of his hotel suite, Gage sat in the living room. It was just after six in the morning and though they’d gotten to bed late, he couldn’t sleep. The last forty-eight hours had been a whirlwind of emotions, from his tentative reconciliation with Laurel to Matt’s overdose to some unfinished business he had to deal with immediately. He’d promised himself if he ever had another shot with Laurel, he’d make her his one and only priority, but while that was great in theory, it was much more complicated now that he had to put it into practice. He had calls to make and possibly even a trip to Washington, D.C., but there was no way to do that with Laurel in his room and his bed, and he couldn’t leave after what had happened to Matt. Once they got back to Anchorage, he could make an excuse, but not while they were on the road and weathering this new insanity.

For the first time in a long time he wondered what his uncle Malcolm would do. Malcolm had been Gage’s father’s older brother, and when Gage’s parents had been killed in a boating accident when Gage was just ten, Malcolm had stepped in. Of course, that had meant the best boarding schools and lavish vacations, but it had been more than that. During breaks and summer vacation, Malcolm had spent time with him, bringing him to the office and exposing him to the inner workings of his multimillion-dollar company, as well as all that his lifestyle had to offer.

It had been a shock when Malcolm had mentioned the old family tradition that the Caldwell men paid their own way through college. Gage had already been a junior in high school by the time he found out, with good but not stellar grades, and no idea what he wanted to do with his life. Joining ROTC seemed like a blessing, a way to pay for college and then four years in the Marines to give him time to figure out what he wanted to do. He’d never expected to meet his soul mate during his sophomore year or fall in love and marry her before graduation. That had fucked up a lot of things, but no matter how much losing her had hurt, he would never regret his time in the Marines. Or the CIA.

He’d loved the military and after his first mission he knew he wanted to be a spy. Telling Laurel would have been another story, though. They’d agreed he would do four years and get out, do his stint on Wall Street since his focus in college had been international finance, and then sit back and enjoy his inheritance while they raised a family. Sadly, things were never that simple. One mission turned into many, the CIA had come calling, and she’d had no idea his military assignment had twisted into something completely different than what he’d signed up for. It had happened inadvertently after that damn mission in Afghanistan and he hadn’t been allowed to tell her. If her mother hadn’t died, it would’ve been okay, he would’ve talked to her once he got home, explained what was going on. He’d told his handler in no uncertain terms that he would not, could not, stay in the CIA if his wife wasn’t read in. They’d grudgingly agreed, but thought it best not to tell her until his four years in the Marines was up. Just in case.

In retrospect, that had been stupid. Just in case what? To this day, he didn’t know. When he and Laurel had finally been in the same room together, everything had changed. And it still haunted him