The conversation goes on for another few minutes, and when the door opens again, he's at least somewhat in control of his temper. “All right, well, keep me up to date on this. Tyler, I understand about today, but Vince's advice was dead on. Don’t let this affect your game play.”
Coach and Tyler leave, and he sees me for the first time since coming in. His face goes slack and pale, and he can see the truth in my eyes, I overheard enough to know the deal. Coach notices too, and gives the two of us a look. “Okay . . . well Tyler, I'll see you Monday for the video session.”
He leaves, and Mr. Larroquette closes his door, giving us at least a little bit of privacy. Tyler's face is going red with shame, and I can't help but feel pissed off. “So were you going to tell me?”
“I . . . I had to get my head wrapped around it all first,” he says, dropping into one of the other chairs in the office. “The asshole just dropped it on me out of the blue. How the hell did he even know where I'd be?”
“Probably because the show's been advertising that you were going to be on for three days prior to your interview,” I say, my anger rising. “Tyler . . . two girls?”
Tyler looks at me, his eyes pained, and nods. “That's what they're claiming. The two girls from . . .”
“I know where from!” I nearly spit, then take a deep breath. Okay, I admit it, it hurts that on the night that I get burned at the club, Tyler not only apparently fucked the hell out of these two girls, but was so stupid as to get them both pregnant. “Don't think I haven't figured that out about four minutes ago.”
“I . . . I'm sorry,” Tyler says, shaking his head. “I didn't mean to hide it from you, but I didn't know how to tell you.”
“Tyler . . . I need to think about this a bit,” I finally say. “Let’s talk later”
Tyler nods. “How much longer do you have to be here?”
“Just a few minutes. But . . . I think I'll walk home. I need the time to think some, and to calm down. I shouldn't be too angry, but I am. I need to not be angry if we're going to have the conversation we need to have about this.”
Tyler nods again and gets up, pausing at the door of the outer office, to give me one last look.
He leaves, and I sit at my desk, looking down at the green jersey I'm wearing, trying to figure out what is going on inside my head, and more importantly, inside my heart. I knew I was dating a star when I got started in with Tyler, and I hate to be stereotypical, but why is this news so surprising to me?
Mr. Larroquette's door opens, and he calls my name. “April? May I see you in my office?”
“Yes sir,” I reply, closing my laptop and going over. I take a seat and try to put on my best professional face. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”
“No, I just wanted to check how you're doing. I know you may deserve to know, but you overhearing that was a big mistake on my part.”
“Sir, I assure you, nothing that you three said will get out to the rest of the team from me,” I quickly answer, putting my feelings aside.
“April, if I had doubts about your professionalism, I'd have fired you as soon as it became apparent that you and Tyler are dating,” he says, laying it out in public for the first time. “You’ve conducted yourself well around the office, and wearing his jersey during games . . . well, I'll tell you my wife's opinion, she thinks it's cute. I'm a bit too much of a fogey to think a jersey is cute, but I can understand. If I were in Tyler's place I'd be moved by the gesture. As for Tyler himself, well, most of the time he's been a pro.”
“He's stepped in it a few times,” I admit, and Mr. Larroquette shrugs. “I know, most of the players do at some level.”
“Most professional athletes do. Before I joined the Fighters, I was an assistant GM in hockey, and I can tell you that Tyler Paulson is a model athlete compared to what some of the hockey players got up to. That's beside the point though, since you're caught up in this now. So I guess I need to just ask . . . are you okay?”
“I'm pissed,” I reply heatedly, then take a deep breath. “But I'm going to see it through and get all the details. Besides, if it was just that night, he's been a good man since then, and a great boyfriend.”
“As long as it doesn’t affect your work. I told Tyler, the team can't do much to help him, maybe some moral support. This isn't like America, as you know. We don't have legal teams on call for our players. We've got a few folks who can review contracts and that's about it.”
“That's okay, I've been thinking, and I know someone who might help us out,” I say, before stopping at my choice of pronoun. Us? Yeah, I guess so. Tyler and I . . . it's us.
The GM also notices and smirks. “I see. Well, best of luck, Miss Gray. Oh, and I’m sorry, but your request for travel reimbursement for that trip to London to get sausage has been denied. Please tell Tyler that if he really needs stuff from London, he'll need to pay for the gas out of his own pocket.”