Yo Ho Ho, page 6
"So you don't get to work with Max that often?" Logan asked.
"Not often."
Logan put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Consider yourself lucky."
Richard laughed while Max gave him a teasing scowl. He deserved it, but he would also be a liar if he said he didn't enjoy it. He actually enjoyed it very much. There was something about a woman being able to go toe-to-toe with him that he found appealing. Most women just agreed with whatever he said or went along with whatever he wanted to do. Max wasn't most women.
She pulled her eyes away from Logan and handed the camera back to her photographer. "Do you want to take a few more or do you think we're all set?"
Richard shook his head. "Nope, I think I've got it," he said. "Or do you need more?"
Logan bristled at the idea and shook his head. He didn't like all this attention in the first place at a charity event. Richard should have enough to work with already.
But Max apparently had other ideas. "Could you take something from the other side of the ice of Logan on the bleachers?"
The photographer nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Maybe just one or two to help fill out the page."
"Exactly."
"I don't know. Do you really—"
Max gently reached out and put her hand on Logan's arm, stopping him in the middle of his thought. It even surprised him that such a soft touch could be so effective on him.
"Just a photo or two, Logan," she said sweetly. "You won't even know he's over there snapping away."
Logan looked at her and then down at her hand on his arm. She must have realized what she had done and quickly pulled away from him. But it was enough.
"Yeah." He shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his brain before turning to Richard. "Yeah, maybe Max is right. A photo or two isn't a big production, is it?"
"Nope. I'll just take a few from there and head back to the newsroom," the photographer said. "I'll see you back in the office?"
Max smiled. "Yep, I'll be there in an hour or so."
Logan watched as Richard walked away, waiting until he was out of earshot. Then he took a seat across from Max on the bleachers as she pulled out her digital recorder and set it down between them.
"So be honest. How attractive were those photos of me?"
She looked up from her recorder and smiled at him. "They weren't bad."
"Admit it, they were great."
Her smile got a little smaller. "They weren't bad," she said. "Now, you ready for work?"
"I'm ready for whatever you have to throw at me, Quinn."
He leaned back a little, folded his arms across his chest, and watched the red light on Max's recorder turn on as she pressed record.
"So, Logan." She picked up her pen and pad to take notes. "Can you tell me a little bit about how you got involved with Kids Can Skate?"
And they were off. Max asked him questions about his work that day on the ice with the kids and Logan responded with serious answers that would be perfect quotes for any story. Short and to the point. No rambling sentences, no crazy tangents. He did as he was supposed to and stuck to the interview without going overboard.
He had done interviews with Max before, but something just felt different about this one. Maybe because it wasn't in an arena locker room, or maybe because this would be one of the last interviews he did with her before her job was over. But for the first time ever, as they talked, he actually began to really pay attention to Max and what she was doing. The way she would look at him when she asked him a question, like she was really interested in his answer. The way she would take notes as he was talking, nodding along as she jotted down something else on her yellow pad. He was amazed as he watched her writing and nodding, and yet she was ready with another question as soon as he was done with his answer.
Logan always tried to show Max respect as a reporter, even after he slept with her. Sure, there were those moments — private moments — when she saw him at the ice machine or told him they couldn't be together. But when she was a reporter, he treated her like professionally and she did the same to him.
Sitting with her and watching her do this job, Logan realized he never really appreciated her and how good she was at it. There was just an ease about her reporting style. She seamlessly went from question to question while being interested in everything he had to say. She balanced notes and the recorder and the thoughts in her head.
Max also had this little trick that she used when she ended interviews. Not really the post-game stuff, but if she was doing a one-on-one interview with you or had some extra time to really ask questions, Logan and the rest of the players would always know how Max was going to end the interview.
"So is there anything else you wanted to add that you think I missed?"
It was such an open and honest question. Sometimes, players would just shrug and tell her that was all they had to say. Sometimes, they would prepare ahead of time to make sure they had a response to the question. And sometimes, like today, a response just came naturally.
"I just want to make sure you focus on the kids," Logan said.
Max gave him a surprised. "Really? Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
She shrugged. "You're a big hockey star volunteering your time, which is why I'm talking to you and not the kids," she said. "So why do you want me to focus on them?"
Max didn't ask him the question in an accusatory way or a threatening way. She seemed to be asking it because she was genuinely interested in getting an answer from him. She really cared about what he was telling her.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "I guess it's because this is a charity for kids who want to play hockey and need some help with the resources to play. It's an expensive sport to participate in. So I just hope people read the story and think about them instead of thinking about me."
There was an awkward silence as Max scribbled away at her pad, making a note of what he said or whatever notes she usually made. It was making him feel unsure of himself.
"I mean, you don't have to quote that if you don't want to," Logan said.
Max waved her hand without looking up from her pad. Then she scribbled some more on the paper. "No, it's a great quote. I liked it."
He stared at her. She liked his quote? Maybe she was just being polite. How the hell could she even say some words while scribbling different ones down? She was like a grammar freak or something. Logan was finding it all way too attractive.
Max finally stopped scribbling and grabbed the recorder sitting between them, pressing the button to turn off the red light. Then she looked up at him with a genuine smile.
"Alright, that's it then," she said. "Not too painful, right?"
Logan could only shake his head. He was suddenly having trouble finding the words to tell her anything. He could only watch as Max threw all her things in a small messenger bag before standing up and throwing it over her shoulder.
"Well, thank you again for the suggestion," she said. "This was a great help."
Logan stood up and smiled at her. "Yeah, sure. I'm glad I could do it," he said. "It really was a good idea, Max."
"I hope so."
She walked past him towards the bleacher's stairs. Logan couldn't help but naturally follow her, matching her walk once they finally made it down. He opened the door as they headed out into the bitter cold, talking about the flight tomorrow to Florida. They had two games in Miami and Jacksonville — easy opponents in a warm climate. It would be a nice trip before the holidays.
It would also be a few more games closer to Max's last day with the paper. Logan didn't have much longer to make his move and lay the groundwork for keeping Max around after her paper closed. He couldn't handle thinking about what would happen on January 1st when she wasn't with them anymore. She needed to be with him after that, or really, he needed her to be with him after that.
Max slowed down and started fishing in her bag for her car keys as they got closer to her SUV.
"Thanks again for the interview," she said as she dug into her bag. "This really is going to help me out."
She wasn't looking at him when he said what he did next, which is probably why he didn't have any hesitation saying it.
"We should go out for a drink sometime."
Max triumphantly pulled her keys out of her bag and held them up. "Found them!" she announced. Then her smile turned into a scowl. "Wait, did you say a drink?"
He tried to give her a flirtatious smile. "Yeah, a drink," he said. "We didn't have a chance to talk after you found out about your job, and I just figured it would be nice to take you out."
"So you want to take me out for a drink because I'm losing my job?"
Logan sighed. Of course Max would make this hard for him.
"I would like to take you out for a drink because I would like to take you out for a drink."
Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. "How kind of you."
This was definitely not going the way he planned at all, and Max was making it even worse.
"I'm trying to be nice, Max."
His voice was a little more agitated than he wanted it to be, and he could immediately tell that it had an effect on Max. She stood there staring at him, making him shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"No thanks," she spat out bitterly.
She turned and stomped off to her car, the snow loudly crunching under her boots. Logan didn't know why, couldn't explain what he was doing, but his instinct was to stomp after her.
"Max, stop." Her hand was on the door handle of her car, but she was standing still, just like he asked. "Listen, I'm sorry if it came out wrong. I just want to have a drink with you."
She turned at looked up at him, her eyes fiery, her hair wild.
"Why?"
He stared back at her. "Why?"
"Yeah, why?" Her hand fell from the door and she turned to fully face him. "Because you feel sorry for me?"
"Or I could just want to go out with you as a friend."
"We're not friends!" she yelled. "We have a professional relationship, that's it. A professional relationship that won't last much longer so let's just leave it at that."
"Professional what?" Now it was Logan's turn to raise his voice and set his feet into the snow. "Because I can tell you that the night we had in Denver was not a professional relationship."
Max stared at him with a look of shock on her face. Yeah, he wasn't the only one who could yell, and he had no problem doing it now that she had him wound up.
"I told you that was a one-time thing."
"Yeah, I heard you, but we both know I'm not a good listener."
Max smirked bitterly at him. "That's true."
Logan rolled his eyes in response. "You told me it was a one-time thing because the paper wouldn't let you have a relationship with a player," he said. "Well, you won't have a job for much longer, so what's your problem?"
Max recoiled from him, her face crumpling into a mix of emotions. He had pushed too far. There was something more than a professional relationship between them. There was something personal there. But his words had been too personal.
She stood there staring at him, trying so hard to keep her emotions in check. All he could do was focus on his breath as it froze every time he exhaled. Dammit, he was such a jerk. If there was any way he could take it back, any way he could make it better, he would. Because right now in this moment, he felt completely awful for what he just said.
Logan took a step forward, reaching his hand out for her arm, but Max pulled back away from him. Then she looked back up at him, her eyes damp but still tough, giving him a glare that cut straight to his heart.
"You know, you're right." Her teeth were clenched, her voice brittle. "I have a problem, Logan, and my problem is you."
"Max, I didn't mean—"
"Yes, you did." She nodded bitterly. "You're looking forward to me losing my job so you can finally have a chance to sleep with me again."
"Max—"
She put her finger up to stop him in the middle of his sentence. "Don't waste my time, Logan. Because even when I'm sitting at home in my sweatpants collecting my unemployment checks, even then, there is no way I ever want to be with you again."
Max turned and grabbed the handle of her car door, violently pulling it open and climbing in. She immediately started the engine, and Logan could hear the radio volume get turned up so loud, the bass was shaking the windows of her car. He got the hint. Max had made herself clear.
Logan stepped back from the car to give her room so she could back up without running over his foot. He wasn't about to try and stop her or make her change her mind. And really, after what he had said, how could he? Logan told her he was looking forward to her losing her job. How low was that?
As she backed up, he could see through her window. She had a tear on her cheek. Just one, but it was noticeable, and it was because of him. He watched her pull out of the parking lot and could think about one thing: Dammit, he really was a jerk.
Chapter 10
Max may only have a few more weeks at this job, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to put her all into it. Even if that meant writing a feature piece about a man who just pissed her off in a parking lot.
Looking forward to her losing her job so he could sleep with her? What an asshole. That was pretty much what Max kept repeating over and over again in her head as she drove to the newsroom.
Sure, there were moments here and there when that thought had crossed her mind. Perhaps there could be something between them at some point in the near future. Perhaps no more late nights and long road trips would benefit her love life, and maybe that love life could include Logan. But that was a big maybe, and it was a big maybe before he decided to run his mouth about going out for drinks and taking advantage of her work situation for his own personal gain.
Logan Moore was definitely a jerk, and he was a jerk that Max had to write about for a long feature piece going on the front page of the sports section for the Sunday paper. Right now, she couldn't think of anyone she hated more than Logan.
But Max had a job to do so she did it. She banged away at the keyboard on her desk, her fingers flying over the keys as she described him as the head of the dragon, as he encouraged a small girl with pig tails sticking out of her helmet to try something again. She threw in quotes from him recalling his favorite thing about hockey when he was a kid.
"I got to go really fast!"
Logan had this giddy look in his eye when he said it, like he enjoyed reliving that time when he was seven years old in gear that was too big for him as he flailed around on the ice. Max knew exactly what he was talking about — she had the same experience at that age — and even smiled at him as he told the story to encourage him to keep talking. Was it her smile that pushed him over the edge and act like a complete moron? No, it was probably just Logan being Logan.
"Hey, what did that keyboard do to you?"
Max looked up from her desk, startled by Amanda's voice next to her. "What?"
Amanda turned and leaned over on her desk. "You seem to be in some sort of mood that you're taking out on your keyboard. All 'Clack! Clack! Clack!'"
Max smiled at her editor. "I'm not mad at my keyboard."
"So what is it?" she asked. "Do you not like writing 1,000 words about an attractive hockey player hanging out with kids and puppies?"
She rolled her eyes. "You told me I couldn't bring any puppies."
"Touché," Amanda said with a wave of her hand. "But seriously, what's up with the story?"
Max took a deep breath and stared back at the words on her screen. It was turning into an awesome feature piece that would have some great photos and make women swoon and guys wish they could be Logan Moore. It was perfect — except for the part where it was about Logan.
Max tapped her fingers on her desk, trying to get rid of some of the nervous pent-up energy she was holding on to. It wasn't working.
"Logan said something to me in the parking lot right before I left," Max confessed.
"What did he say?"
Max turned to look at Amanda, who was now intently staring at her, and took a deep breath. Amanda didn't need to know everything, right? But she could know enough.
"He said he was happy in a way that I was losing my job."
"Happy in a way?"
Max shrugged her shoulders and gave her a tight smile as a way of saying she didn't want to talk about it anymore. Amanda seemed to understand and simply nodded in response. Then the editor turned back to her computer and started randomly clicking her mouse.
"Get your story done," she said.
Max breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to her computer. "Thank you."
"But we're talking about this after our shift over beers and burgers."
Dammit. She didn't want to talk about this again. But it was Amanda, and it was beers and burgers. There was no way she could get out of it.
The cold air whipped against them as the pair walked into Harry's to get some food. It was a typical Detroit sports bar — not flashy or pretentious. Just a good place to eat. Plus, it was close to their old drafty building with its old drafty newsroom that was about to get shut down.
Max and Amanda grabbed a table in the corner and ordered two beers before looking over the menu.
"You know, we won't be coming here for much longer," Amanda said without looking up.
"Just because the newsroom is closing doesn't mean we have to stop eating here. We'll always need a burger place to meet and talk about sports."
Amanda gave her a sad smile. "Yeah, but it won't be the same."
The two of them ordered and took a few sips of beer in silence, watching Detroit's basketball team on one of the televisions above the bar. Max didn't mind watching other sports. She could hold her own when talking to the sports writers on staff about the local basketball and baseball teams. She could lament about another losing season with the football writer. She even knew enough to keep up with racing news, which was especially important considering she worked in Detroit. They didn't call it The Motor City for nothing.
But there was just something different and special for her when it came to hockey. Max couldn't imagine going to another job after this that didn't have any connection to the sport.
