Page 60 of The Groupie

I eavesdrop shamelessly as I sip my drink.

“Have a seat and join me.” Her usual sarcasm brands her words.

“I remember where I saw you before,” Jonesy says.

“Is that right?”

Sheila says something, but I have no idea what it is because I’m straining to hear Jonesy’s response.

“At the snowboard World Cup event in Calgary last winter. You won first place in the halfpipe and second in big air. I was impressed. So was everyone else. I should’ve remembered you sooner since you’re a member of the U.S. Olympic team, but I’m covering Boston sports this winter while my colleague gets to travel to Park City and Milan for the games.”

The whole time he’s talking, he alternates between looking her in the eye and eying her ankle. That’s when I notice she’s still wearing the compression brace.

What was she thinking coming out tonight—crutches or no crutches? I wish to fuck she’d stayed home.

“Problem with your ankle? That why you’re here in Boston and not in Park City?” He finally gets to his point, and I let out a big breath.

I want to jump from my seat and tell the reporter to fuck off, but that would make things worse. I’ll talk to him later and make it clear where I stand. I might have to bribe him somehow, but I’ll convince him to leave her alone.

“I’m here for my mother’s surgery next week,” she says.

Candice chooses that moment to come over to my table.

“How are you enjoying the evening? We got some good shots so far.”

“We were just leaving,” I say, sliding a glance at Sheila. She nods.

“You can’t leave yet. It’s barely ten o’clock. You need to stay at least until eleven.”

“Not tonight. Early skate.” I stand, and Sheila follows. I take a detour in the direction of Rylee as she gets up from her seat. We’re both headed toward the back exit.

I catch up with her outside after grabbing my keys from the valet.

“I’ll wait in the car while you have a chat,” Sheila says.

We both stay quiet until she’s gone out of hearing.

Then Rylee clears her throat. “It was stupid for me to be here, but I figured you needed moral support.”

“Liar.” I pull her aside and duck into the alley on the side of the building. “You came because you’re jealous.”

She laughs, but her heart isn’t in it. “I’m leaving now.”

“Come home with me.”

“What about Sheila?”

“We can drop her off.”

“What about your early skate?”

“Eavesdropping?”

“No more than you were.”

“You’re right. I heard Jonesy. I’ll talk to him and convince him he doesn’t need to write anything about you and your ankle.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t do me anymore favors. I don’t like owing you. Besides, something tells me he won’t write about it. He has nothing but speculation. Unless I give him a reason, like showing up in public with crutches.”