The Inside Edge, page 18
It was very much the sort of bachelor pad Aubrey had always sought out and lived in, and it felt completely wrong.
He gave Sarah, the agent, his best tough-customer smile. “What else have you got?”
The second apartment was better, with a living room that spanned two full stories, a huge private balcony, and enough kitchen counter space to prepare two turkey dinners simultaneously. The walk-in closet with built-in drawers and shelving was big enough to host an orgy.
He hated it… except the closet.
By the time Sarah was showing him the third executive-style apartment, he’d figured out the trend. He could see himself living in these apartments just fine. There was nothing wrong with them.
He couldn’t see himself living in any of them with Nate.
It didn’t even make sense! Nate lived in an apartment very similar to Aubrey’s. It should have been easy to superimpose him on any one of these places, to imagine him there with Aubrey as he often was with Aubrey at his actual apartment. But the apartments they lived in now—those were already homes. Aubrey couldn’t say why it was different, but it was.
The next property, on the other hand….
“I know you’re not looking for something with maintenance,” Sarah explained as she unlocked the door to let him in, “so I want to assure you that this is a condo. Everything’s taken care of in the monthly fees.”
“I’ll keep an open mind,” Aubrey promised.
“It’s also rented through the end of the week. We have permission from the residents to show it; they went to a movie. But the point is it’s not quite as tidy as an unoccupied home.”
“Nor should it be.” In truth he liked the way the place looked lived-in. The kitchen was bright and airy, with appliances along the left wall in front of quadruple patio doors and a huge island separating it from an open dining area and living room. There were two glasses in the kitchen sink.
“Master bedroom is this way,” Sarah said, gesturing to the right.
Aubrey followed her down a wide hallway to the far end of the house and a master bedroom with a king-size bed and a conversation set. The room also had a walkout to the yard.
“One-way privacy shades to keep the sun and any prying eyes from getting in, but you can still see out.” Sarah indicated a control panel next to the bed. “Master bathroom is just through there.”
It had every luxury Aubrey expected in a property like this and a few more besides. “Nice place,” he commented.
Sarah led them back down the hallway, saying something about the privileges at the development pool, but Aubrey accidentally tuned her out. They were passing another door, which must be a second bedroom or maybe an office? The door was cracked. Aubrey hadn’t been able to see in from the other direction, but now…. He nudged it open.
A canopy bed covered in a unicorn blanket took up one wall. Opposite that, a neat white wood desk housed a laptop and a pile of schoolbooks. A hammock overflowing with stuffed animals hung in the corner, and there was an in-progress Lego model of a spaceship on the floor.
It was like something had taken over his body. He stared stupidly, but he didn’t see the empty room. He was seeing a full one, three people sitting on the floor, two adults and a kid, putting the finishing touches on a block tower.
Aubrey suddenly realized that he was picking out a new place with the idea that he would be sharing his life. Of course a one-bedroom apartment didn’t seem right for that.
But he hadn’t realized that he’d also internalized what it might mean for him that Nate wanted children. That wasn’t something you could compromise on. Aubrey had never thought about it much himself—he’d been honest when he said that to Nate. But apparently his subconscious had concluded that if he was going to settle down, he’d do it in whatever way made Nate the happiest.
The idea of having a family terrified him. But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also fill him with a sort of warm fuzzy hope and, yeah, that was longing. Time for that identity crisis.
“The home does come furnished,” Sarah said, and Aubrey snapped back to the present. “But if you’d prefer to use this room as an office or gym, I’m sure the furniture in here can be relocated.”
“I thought you said the complex has a gym?” he said automatically.
“It does.” Sarah sounded a little confused, or maybe concerned. “Lots of people prefer their privacy, though.”
“Right.” Aubrey shook himself, willing the vision he’d had to disappear. Then, out of self-preservation, he pulled out his phone and checked the time, and—“I have to get back to the hotel.” How had the day gotten so far away from him? “I’ve got to be at the arena in an hour and a half.”
And he needed at least half that time to get his head back in the game.
NATE SPENT the weekend and half of Monday recuperating. Monday night he felt like himself again, but he didn’t see Aubrey until he got an invitation to lunch on Tuesday.
That turned into something else entirely, and then into a nap. So when Nate’s phone beeped and dragged him out of a glue-eyed slumber, he didn’t panic until he actually saw the time.
Then he peeled his face off Aubrey’s shoulder and shook him awake. “Hey. Get up.”
“If you wanna go again, I need coffee first,” Aubrey mumbled.
Nate shoved his phone in Aubrey’s face. “If we don’t get in the shower right now, we’re going to miss our call.”
“Shit!”
Nate scrambled back to his place to shower and met Aubrey downstairs.
“Think we’re busted?” Aubrey whispered as they got in the car that had obviously been waiting several minutes. His hair was still damp at the ends.
“At least we don’t smell like the same bodywash,” Nate muttered back. He was pretty sure that almost got them caught last week.
The car dropped them out front only a handful of minutes later than usual—enough that they could pass it off as bad traffic. But when they stepped off the elevator and into a panic-free studio—a hallway where half the staff were standing around with somber faces and the other half looked about to punch someone—Nate knew.
“Ah, fuck,” Aubrey said.
Nate made an aborted grab for his hand but caught himself.
Before they could get any farther, Jess poked her head out of the office, looked up and down the hallway, and sighed. “No keeping a secret in this place. Nate, Aubrey, please come in. The rest of you, I’d appreciate if you could contain your catastrophizing until the staff meeting later.”
They closed the door behind them.
Jess didn’t make them wait long. “As you may have guessed, Larry was here late this afternoon, and apparently I do not have a poker face. But it’s not as dire as you’re thinking.”
“So, we’re not canceled?” Nate clarified.
Jess rubbed her hands over her face. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Oh, well, that clears it up,” Aubrey said sardonically.
Nate shot him a quelling look, but he did have a point. “All right, can you explain in, I don’t know, five words or less?”
“The network sold the show.”
Nate blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Oh.”
Aubrey went a little further with it. “Oh, of course they…. They spent weeks harping on us about viewership and ratings and blah, blah, blah, and all the work we put in was just us inflating our value so they could fetch a higher price for us?”
Well, when he put it that way. “I feel like a fatted calf.”
“You know the show has always been an experiment.” Jess sighed. “The truth is, getting the licensing we did was a coup we only managed because there was a gap in coverage and the show was a guinea pig. Well, phase one of the experiment is over.”
Wait— “They sold us to ESBN?”
“Effective tomorrow,” Jess confirmed. She looked like she needed a stiff drink, or maybe eighteen solid hours of sleep. “We won’t know more about what’s happening to us until then.”
“Well.” Nate’s throat felt suddenly thick. “Let’s make tonight a good one.”
In the end, they got through the episode all right, but even though he and Aubrey were good at their jobs, Nate could tell their banter felt strained. The game they were slated to cover was a gruesome slog, with the total shot clock barely creeping up to thirty at the end of three periods, the score a measly 1-0, and not even a fight to make things interesting.
Kelly’s coverage, at least, had more engaging fare to offer. The women’s game was tied 3-3 going into the second, and by the time it finished, it had crept up to 9-7.
They wrapped up as they always did, with score updates from around the league. Nate wished he’d had time to come up with something new and different and original to say if this was going to be their final signoff, but he hadn’t. The usual words felt hollow and insignificant. “That’s all for tonight. Until next time, I’m Nate Overton—”
Under the desk, Aubrey put his hand on Nate’s leg. “And I’m Aubrey Chase—”
“And this has been The Inside Edge.”
Chapter Twenty
NEITHER OF them was in the mood for sex that night.
They also weren’t in the mood to be alone.
The nice thing about an actual relationship, Aubrey was finding, was that he didn’t have to be alone.
The flip side was that Nate took forever to fall asleep when he was stressed out and not getting laid, and Nate taking forever to fall asleep led to Aubrey being up until the wee hours after he dropped off, staring at the ceiling.
He had only barely managed to ask Nate to go on a date with him. Now he somehow had to gather the courage to have a talk about what would happen to their relationship if he moved to Vegas.
He’d been counting on having a little more time to get used to the whole having-a-boyfriend thing before he had to bring up long-distance versus cohabitation. It was probably too soon to tell Nate he’d been thinking they should move in together, and the show had been sold, not canceled. The new network could replace one or both of them… or change nothing. And there wasn’t anything Aubrey could do about it.
He had almost decided to give up on the dream of sleep and go watch TV in the living room when Nate sighed, rolled over, and burrowed his face into the pillow. “Ice cream,” he said happily, obviously deep in a very pleasant dream.
Save some for me. If Nate could sleep with this much on his mind, so could he. That competitive athlete drive was still good for something after all, because so resolved, Aubrey finally drifted off.
He woke up to Nate sitting at the end of the bed, fully dressed, holding his phone loosely between his legs.
Aubrey hated feeling wrong-footed before he even stood up. “Hey,” he rasped. “Going somewhere?”
“Jess texted,” Nate said by way of explanation, holding his phone at chest height and waggling it for effect. “Wants to see me in her office at eleven.”
Me? That was probably a harbinger. “Just you?”
Nate shook his head. “Didn’t ask. Check your phone.”
She wanted to see him at ten thirty. Aubrey winced and looked at the clock. “Me first, I guess.”
Nate looked ashen. “You want to ride in together?”
Honestly, if this was going to go down the way Aubrey thought, he’d prefer to go home alone after and sulk. “I’m going to drive myself, I think. Text me after?”
Nate nodded, somber, hands clenching and unclenching around the phone. He looked like he wanted to say something—or do something—but in the end, he just stood up. “I’ll, um. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yeah.” Aubrey swung his legs out of bed, but Nate was already halfway out of the room. “Later.”
No one had ever broken up with Aubrey before, but he thought it probably felt a little like this.
The feeling persisted as he walked down the hallway toward Jess’s office. The corridor was otherwise deserted. This floor was mostly offices, so Aubrey assumed everyone else was on set of whatever was currently filming. That suited him fine, though. He didn’t need any witnesses to what he was sure was coming.
Jess’s office door was open, and she waved him inside when he knocked. “Close the door, please.”
Yeah, this wasn’t going to go well. It had been nice while it lasted, though. He closed the door and took the chair across the desk from her, the same one he’d sat in last night.
“I know you’re probably anxious to get started, so I’ll cut to the chase. I met with the ESBN show liaison first thing this morning.” She had the dark circles under her eyes to prove it too.
“Show liaison,” Aubrey echoed.
Jess grimaced. “My opinion? That’s what you get when you buy a show wholesale from another network and need someone to implement changes but aren’t ready to let the current showrunner go.”
“Ouch.” Whatever was coming, it wouldn’t affect just him. And unlike many other people who worked on the show, Aubrey had a fat trust fund and a job lined up. “So these changes. Let me guess. It’s the end of the line for me.”
Slowly, Jess shook her head. “I’m really sorry, Aubrey. If it’s any consolation, I thought you were great. A lot of people did.”
“But ESBN wants to go in a new direction.” It came out sounding only a little bitter.
“Technically speaking, I think they want to go in an old direction, but they’re afraid the show’s new fans will riot if they bring back John.”
Aubrey snorted. “Thank God for small mercies, I guess.” At least Nate wouldn’t have to go back to working with that asshole.
“I guess,” Jess echoed. Her shoulders slumped. “I have to say, you’re taking this better than I thought.”
He was, Aubrey realized with a start. Therapy must really be good for something. “I mean, the writing was on the wall. The good ol’ boys at ESBN, they’re not ready to cede serious hockey air time to a flamboyant former figure skater. Frankly, I’m surprised they’re keeping Nate.”
Then again, they didn’t know Nate like Aubrey did now. Maybe the new Nate would end up canned just like Aubrey.
“Yeah,” Jess said, somewhat grim. But then she made a visible effort to rally. “Look, I know you and I, and you and Nate, got off on the wrong foot. But I just want to let you know how much I appreciate the work you put in since then. The show finally became all the things I knew it could be. It sucks that it’s ending like this, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t feel great to get here.”
Aubrey’s throat felt suddenly thick. “Thanks for giving me a chance, and then a second chance. This has been… the best kind of challenge, and I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”
They shook hands.
“What about the rest of the crew?” Aubrey asked. He genuinely liked the staff. He hoped Carl wouldn’t be suddenly jobless at his age.
“My understanding is they’re keeping everyone until after the Cup Final, just because it’s too much hassle to change things midseason. I have the impression they want to move filming to New York or LA.”
“LA would make sense if they want to cover all the night’s games from start to finish.”
“Plenty of studio space there too. HQ’s in New York, though.”
Would Nate like New York? He barely drove in Chicago; driving in NYC would make him nuts—though he wouldn’t really have to. But his staunch Midwestern friendliness would suffocate and die.
Aubrey wondered what Nate would think about Vegas.
“Aubrey?”
He shook himself. “Sorry. I was just imagining Nate relocating to New York.”
“Lord. We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.” She sighed. “Look, this isn’t how either of us wanted your stint on the show to go. But that’s not your fault. If you ever need a character reference, or if you see a broadcasting job you think a word from me would help you land, drop me a line, yeah?”
Aubrey blinked. “Seriously? After my first day on the job?”
“Believe me, no one’s more surprised about this than I am. I don’t know what was going on with you that day, but it obviously wasn’t representative of who you are. We’re going to miss you. Especially Nate, weirdly enough.”
For the first time that day, Aubrey had the impulse to smile and mean it. Without the show, he and Nate had no reason to hide their relationship. Maybe something good could come of this after all.
Assuming the idea of him and Nate lasted through the collapse of their jobs together and a potential long-distance relationship, of course.
“Thanks,” he managed. “I’ll miss you too.”
NATE THOUGHT he had prepared himself for the worst right up until the moment he stepped off the elevator on Jess’s floor and saw her saying goodbye to Aubrey outside her office.
He didn’t want to believe it. But he knew Aubrey well enough, and he knew to look for the cocksure stance, the smirk always hiding around the corner of his mouth. They were missing.
His heart sank.
Aubrey and Jess turned and saw him at the same time. Jess had a decent poker face after thirty years in showbiz, and Aubrey normally did a passable job. But before he could school his features, Nate cataloged the defeat in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders. He even had his hands in his pockets. Aubrey never did that.
He must be trying to keep from a reflexive crossing of his arms—a classic defensive posture.
For the second time in two years, the ground beneath Nate’s feet felt like it had shifted, leaving him off-balance and unsure.
Nate was starting to hate not knowing where he stood.
“Tell me you’re kidding,” he said heavily before he could stop himself.
It wasn’t fair. He’d dealt with John for almost three years. Aubrey had been a breath of fresh air. Aubrey had made him really love his job again in a way he hadn’t since he left the ice.
