“Did Frasier tell you what Wilson said?” Georgia asked me, cheeks flushed pink from the wine.
I’d assumed the fight was like most fights during a game—guys too jacked up on adrenaline and a chirp that had gone too far. That said, Frasier typically kept his cool on the ice. So he had to have been really pissed to risk a fight, especially when the score had been so close.
Kylie typed out a message on her phone before tossing it into her purse. She disappeared into a stall. I shook my head and took the stall next to Kylie’s, closing the door behind me.
“I couldn’t get anything out of my brother,” Georgia huffed. “Even though I’m technically a member of the staff and signed an NDA. Not to mention the fact that I’m his freaking sister.”
I laughed, flushing the toilet and zipping my jeans before joining Georgia at the sink, where she fluffed her hair and reapplied her lipstick. Daniel was notoriously tight-lipped when it came to the Hawks. And I appreciated his loyalty to the team, even if I figured it was mostly because he was responsible for the organization. That said, I knew not everything was about the bottom line for him.
The Hawks had been nothing short of incredible in the wake of Derek’s death. They’d paid out a million dollars as basic protection plus his entire salary for the season in which he’d died, as well as the following one. It was more than was required by Derek’s contract. I’d been stunned by their generosity, and I had a feeling Daniel had a lot to do with it.
“Frasier seriously said nothing?” Georgia asked.
I shook my head, applying another coat of lip gloss. “I was too focused on his well-being to ask. He claims he’s fine, but I’m worried he has a concussion.”
Georgia frowned, her eyes meeting mine in the reflection of the mirror. “The trainers checked him out, right?”
“Yes.” And I knew they were the best in the field. I’d even examined him briefly myself. Yet still, I worried. “But the effects can be delayed.”
Georgia wrapped her arm around me, saying nothing but offering her support, nonetheless. I hugged her back, appreciating the fact that she didn’t try to reassure me or, worse, tell me I was overreacting. She just…let me know she was there for me.
“Did you get anything out of Carson?” Georgia asked Kylie as she exited her bathroom stall.
Kylie stepped up to the sink, glancing from me then back to Georgia. She’d been checking her phone on and off all evening, but that wasn’t unusual. She was often keeping an eye on things or putting out fires for her clients.
“That’s a yes,” I said, my stomach churning. “But you don’t want to tell us. Or rather, you don’t want to tell me.”
“Wilson is an ass,” Georgia said. “Always has been. It was nice to see him taken down a peg.”
“Oh, the internet is definitely giving him a dressing down.” Kylie’s grin was wicked.
Interesting.But I wasn’t going there. The internet could be a dangerous place. I’d learned that after Derek’s death. Most people were supportive, but others could be judgmental, even critical. I didn’t need their negative energy.
“You know Wilson?” I asked Georgia.
“He got drafted to the Hawks years ago. The team traded him because of his attitude and shitty performance. Since then, Wilson has had an axe to grind when it comes to the Hawks.”
That didn’t surprise me. From what little I knew of him, Wilson seemed like the type of man to hold a grudge. Petty. Vindictive. Small.
“Even so…” Georgia seemed to be considering it. “For Frasier to throw down, whatever Wilson said must have been bad.”
“What he said was wrong,” Kylie gritted out. She switched off the water and grabbed a towel from the stack. She dried her hands and turned to face me. “And as your friend, I really don’t want to tell you. But as your publicist, I feel like I have a duty to inform you.”
Georgia sighed. “I really wanted it to be something fun and juicy. But this sounds like it’s going to piss me off.”
I laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it.
“Okay. I changed my mind,” Georgia said, clearly sensing my unease. “I don’t want to know. Besides, does it matter what that asswipe said?” Georgia crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sure Frasier’s actions were justified.”
I could think of very few reasons Frasier would fight during a game, and I was one of them. “The more you say without telling us what was actually said, the more concerned I am. I think I’d rather you just tell me so I don’t have to keep wondering.”
“You sure?” Kylie asked, worry creasing her brow. “We can enjoy dinner and then discuss it after we return to the hotel.”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
With a resigned sigh, Kylie relayed what had happened on the ice. By the end, Georgia was fuming. And I was…shell-shocked.
A thing for hockey players?
