Wednesday morning, I make time for the worst part of my move. I have to go to the DMV and change my driver's license. Tina tipped me off that the downtown DMV is the worst one, so even though it's further from work, I go to the office in East Liberty. It's in the basement of a gorgeous old building with a glass dome, which I'm busy staring at when someone taps me on the shoulder.
"Do you mind moving? You're blocking the stairs." A shaggy head moves to block my view, and I groan. Of course it's Ty stag.
"What the hell are you doing here??" Ouch. My tone is harsher than I intended, but I'm rattled to see him out in public. "Are you following me?"
He shrugs. "I'm here same as you, babe. Gotta get my PA license. In case you forgot, I've been living in Canadia, the hinterland, driving a bobsled and all that." I wish I weren't staring at his dimple when he smiles after joking around.
"Look, Ty, you cannot call me babe. Ever." He shrugs. I sigh and huff down the stairs to get in line. Of course there's a line. I can smell him when he stands a bit too close to me. He's got a hint of cologne today, something like pine with a citrus scent behind it. So subtle. Maybe it's aftershave. I try not to be obvious as I sniff him behind me. What am I doing??
"So hey," he says. I turn sideways, keeping my eye on the line of people, half looking at Ty. “I just wanted to...is thank you the right phrase for this? Anyway, I am really glad I got to see all that at the docks and on the river. I learned a lot.”
I have no idea what he means, and I furrow my brow. He keeps talking. “Rowing seems really fucking intense. Can I ask you something? I noticed you weren’t even tired from that training, and the rest of them were talking about how their legs feel like jelly.”
"Okay…"
“It reminded me of the other night. You know, in the bathroom?”
"Oh my god. No. Ty, just no. We are not discussing that." I turn around. Can this line move any slower? He reaches for my arm. I hate my traitorous body for feeling a spark from his touch. “Juniper, wait.” I sigh and turn to look at him again. He runs his hand through his hair like he's not really sure where he's going with this. “I just...why do you hold back?”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said why do you hold back? During sex, while you’re rowing...you had more in your tank..."
I can’t move. I’m shaking with emotions I can’t quite identify, but I need to make sure I heard him correctly. "Are you seriously talking about my sexual performance in relation to my rowing?"
"I mean, I know you were pissed off that night and it took awhile to get you to let loose while we were fucking, but I was just wondering what it takes to really open you up on the water...”
I don’t even think about what happens next. I shove him as hard as I can, pressing both hands flat against his chest. Since he wasn't expecting the onslaught, he goes flying backwards, catching his head against the railing, nearly falling down the stairs. Once he regains his feet, he crumples, bent in half at the waist, moaning. “Jesus Christ, Juniper! What the fuck was that for?”
Shit. A security guard approaches. Fuck.
"Sir, is everything all right?"
Ty is doubled over, breathing heavy. He stands up and his nose is bleeding. "I'm fine. It's fine. I just tripped over my shoelace."
The security guard reaches for his radio. "We've got a situation here, Brad."
"Sir, really, I'm his lawyer. This is fine."
He raises an eyebrow at me. "You're going to have to come with me, ma'am."
Another security guard comes running up. Apparently this is Brad, and, now that Ty has wiped the blood off his face with his t-shirt, Brad evidently recognizes him. "Holy shit! This is Ty Stag! Yo, Ty Stag just got hit by some chick!"
The color drains from my face as I remember the morality clause in Ty's contract. He glares at me as a crowd begins to form. But then I see him enter PR mode, and I can tell he's been in this world for a long time.
"Brad, is it? Hey man, you wanna take a selfie with me?" Brad is beside himself, putting an arm around Ty, not caring about the blood staining his shirt. I rummage in my purse to see if I can find some tissues or something, but before I can hand anything to Ty, a woman wearing a hockey sweater comes out from the reception desk, shaking one of those ice packs from a first aid kit. Of course, the Pittsburgh DMV staff are all hockey fans.
Soon, he's signing autographs and joking with the staff about whether he looks more authentic for his driver's license with a swollen, red face. "What do you think, gals," he asks the room. "Should I pull out my fake teeth for the picture?" He waits a beat. "That's a joke. These are all real, ladies." They're eating it up. Even the DMV employees are smiling. I decide to slink away, out into the parking lot.
I don’t slow down until I’m inside my apartment. I slam and lock the door behind me and turn the hot water all the way up in the shower. While I stand there letting it scald my skin, scrubbing Ty's blood from my arm, I feel myself about to cry. I shake my head, choking back my tears. I’m furious. I'm angry at Zack and angry to have moved here, and above it all, I'm angry at Ty Stag and I’m not even totally sure I know why.
If I’m honest, he’s right about the rowing. I’m not tired after team training and that wasn’t the hardest I’ve ever worked out, but what kind of showboat shows up and lets everyone know she’s in better shape? I hear my dad again, talking to me about never settling. This isn’t the same thing as settling for Zack. But god, Ty was right about the bathroom. I wasn’t so much holding back as...shit. I had no idea sex could even be like that. The feelings he pulled from my body! I’ve never felt anything even close. I remember how he looked into my eyes, how his big hands felt on my body, but I can’t go there right now.
I have to go to work...and he’s my client.
Besides, neither Ty nor my dad ever had to know what it feels like to be different and stand out.
It’s one thing being a tall woman. I can deal with that, and I don’t even slouch like some of the other tall women I know who try to mask their height. Hell no. I wear heels and proudly. But otherwise? Where I grew up...if you stood out you got hurt. Rowing in a team gave me safety, support. Any time I’ve stood out, alone, that’s when you get noticed.
Rowing crew, the whole goal is uniformity. Even if you’ve got the ability to go faster you need to match pace with your teammates. It’s always worked well for me. I’m strong as the powerhouse, and they need me!
I finish my shower and get dressed for work, thinking about how I can possibly convince my boss to move his brother to another lawyer in the firm. Maybe that will be easier now that I punched a Stag in the face? This just isn’t going to work well for me.
I text Lisa. Emergency. Can you talk?
My phone rings an instant later, and I don't even say hello. "I shoved Ty at the DMV and he fell and got a bloody nose."
"Say what now?"
I relay most of the story to Lisa, saying only that he said something rude and I wasn't thinking.
"Hang on a sec." I hear a rustling in the background, a clicking sound. "Oh shit. June, go to your laptop."
"What? Why?"
"Just pull up TMZ."
It takes a minute to load, but I see a gossip story about Ty, bloody and grinning with the staff at the East Liberty DMV. "Mother fucker."
Lisa is reading aloud. "Pittsburgh hockey hottie gets the hand when he hits on a hometown gal. That's not a bad headline," she says. "It looks like they're making it sound fun. Ty must be really good with the public. Look how even the guard is excited to hug his bloody ass."
"What do I do, Lees?"
There's a long pause and I can tell she's reading and searching the web for more news. "I think you ignore it. Or maybe, like, apologize to him? Send him a bottle of aspirin?"
"You are useless." I shove my feet in my heels and grab my bag.
"At least I'm not guilty of assault! Go take it out on the water later."
I sigh. It's going to be a long day at work.
When I arrive, I grab Tim by the break room for a word. He is more animated than I’ve seen him so far. He is evidently thrilled with the contract work I’ve done so far for his brother, loves the campaign to clean up Ty’s image, and says Matty called about some good press on the gossip columns.
"Good press?"
Tim grins. "My brother was working the fans. I think he got fresh with some feisty woman and she gave him a bloody nose. I don't know. Matty says it looks great from his perspective. Ty really has matured. A few years ago, this would have been a sex scandal story." My jaw hangs open, and Tim says he wants me to meet with him later about taking on some of the MLB players to my client portfolio.
I sigh and sink into my desk. What is it about this city? Nothing makes sense here. I lose myself in my work, preparing contracts for everyone Tim suggested, and I don’t come up for air until well past dark.