“Interview?” Russell questioned. “What’s that about?”
Armi wiped his brow. “Oh, uh, the guy fromCity Newswants to talk to me. We’re having lunch tomorrow.”
“Martin Price?” Russell sounded surprised. “He was a good friend of your father’s, and he’s a Kings fan. Usually press inquiries come through me.”
“Even if they wanted to speak to Randolph Winters?” Hayden schooled his face to remain neutral. “The owner of the team would clear his interviews through you?”
Russell ignored him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’ll give the interview a good spin. We’d better go, Armand.”
“Hayden—” Armi began.
“Armand, please.” Russell hustled him out of the office without another word.
Before Hayden left the office, a large sticky note on the computer monitor caught his eye—dinner Trevor 7:30 Sat. nite.
Of course, Armi hadn’t entered it on his calendar, so when he returned to his desk, Hayden added it. Several calls came through from other media outlets, and Hayden set up interviews with them, but this time managed to get the questions sent to him and promised that Armi would have them back within the week.
At five thirty the office started to empty out with still no sign of Armi. He passed by the conference rooms but didn’t hear any voices.
Where the hell are they?
Hayden spotted Lucy at her desk, fixing her hair and putting on fresh lipstick, obviously preparing to leave. Her purse—a very expensive designer name—sat at her elbow.
“Hi,” she greeted him after puckering up and blotting. “Leaving too? We can walk out together.”
Not a chance, sister. “No, I’m staying a little while. Going to wait for Mr. Winters to return. Do you know which conference room they’re in? I did a walkaround but didn’t hear anyone.”
“They all left at five.”
“Left?” Puzzled, Hayden didn’t understand how that happened. “Where’d they go?”
“To Doyle’s down the block. The usual hangout.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know. I didn’t see anyone leave.”
“The large conference room has a separate entrance. It allows for big sports names to come and go without anyone seeing them. You know how the press goes crazy when they think a trade might be happening.”
No, he didn’t, but Hayden supposed he would have to start thinking that way.
“I guess that makes sense. But a bar?”
She rolled her eyes. “So clichéd, but late-afternoon meetings always end up there. I think they’re on the verge of signing a big free agent and they’re celebrating.”
How did Armi feel, surrounded by people he didn’t consider his friends? If he was nervous going into the meeting, he might be in way over his head and panicking.
“Thanks for the info. Have a great night.”
“You too. Let’s do lunch again soon.” She picked up her purse and walked around her desk.
“Definitely.”
He gathered up his wallet and phone and waited until he figured Lucy had already left, then made his exit. Doyle’s was one of those old-fashioned Irish bars fast becoming extinct in the city. No-nonsense drinks, solid pub food, and a dark wooden bar with half a dozen beers on tap. The stools were filled with after-work revelers, whom Hayden skipped over. His gaze lighted on a table in the corner, where he spied Whitmore and Geiger, along with four other men he’d never seen—probably the coach and his staff. The men were laughing and joking together, enjoying each other’s company. Armi’s back was to him, and Hayden’s heart gave a funny bounce.
Damn. He looked so alone. Excluded. Russell put a hand on Armi’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, and Hayden’s hand balled into a fist. He wanted to punch Russell in his face for touching Armi so intimately.
What the hell was Russell doing?
Hayden’s chest rose and fell as the cadence of his breath increased. Russell’s hand remained on Armi’s shoulder. That was unacceptable to him.
