Ben Ryder - Englishmen 3 - Released Page 11

  Callum caught me up with the loves, triumphs, trials, and tribulations of other friends. It reminded me how much I’d missed out on the lives of people that I once held—still held—so dear to me. I silently cursed Richard again before I ordered another beer. I knew I couldn’t avoid the next conversation.

  “Callum, I wish you knew how sorry I am.”

  “I know you are, Dominic.”

  121“I was such a fucking idiot for so long. I don’t deserve to

  be let off that easily. I know you must have been angry with me. Everyone must have been angry with me.” Callum took a long sip of his beer. His eyes flickered, as though he was figuring out what to say to me. He finally rested his empty glass on the table as the waitress brought us another round.

  His response was calmer than I expected. “Dominic, I’ll admit that, at the time, yes, I didn’t understand how you could turn your back—”

  “Callum, I never turned my back on you—” “Yes, Dominic, you did. Let’s cut the bullshit and get through this, yes?”

  I nodded, but wanted to tell him how my opinion of him never changed and how much I’d always loved and valued our friendship. But I knew my actions had said otherwise.

  “I tried to warn you what he was like. Everybody did. It took me months to understand that constantly telling you what an asshole he was only made you worse and drove you further into the relationship. Finally, you just started believing your own excuses.”

  I was confused, and Callum could see it.

  “You started acting like a completely different person. It even got to the point that I wondered whether he was hitting you because you started to sound like a battered wife excusing her husband.”

  “He never hit me,” I clarified. “Nothing physical, anyway.”

  “Looking back, I think in my heart I knew that would’ve been too much for even you to take. Besides, I think you

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  know I would have killed him if I found out he’d actually hurt you.” I smiled. It was nice to know he had my back even when I gave him reason not to.

  “Each time I said something bad about Richard, you had to look for, and come back with, something good to defend him. But you had to defend him for so many different things. You ended up repeating the few positive things so many times, you must have felt like they outweighed all the issues. In a way, I gave you all the opportunities and excuses you needed to convince yourself that he was good guy.”

  “I know that now—”

  “But what stung the worst was that I didn’t have my best friend around when I was going through my own stuff. You were the guy that I’d trust with anything.”

  This hurt me more than he realized. I tried to apologize again, but he cut me off.

  “But I can now say, hand on my heart, that I haven’t been angry with you for a long time. I understand why you acted the way you did, and now know the lengths people will go to, to be with the one they love. So in that way, Dominic, I actually look at you now and think more of you than ever, because you were 100 percent committed to the guy.”

  “Look where it got me.”

  “Yes! Let’s look where it got you! You are hobnobbing with celebrities in the most exciting city in the world and shagging silver foxes in Central Park. Not too shabby!”

  I laughed, but I was still reeling from his earlier comment. “So what happened? What were you going through when I wasn’t around?”

  123I expected him to sober up as the memories of whatever

  he’d endured came back. But he didn’t. In fact, he just smiled even brighter. “Well, that is soon to resolve itself. It’s a long story, which I will save for the next time I see you. But, for now, between the jet lag and the beer, I’m about ready to pass out on this chair.”

  I paid the bill, and we got up to part ways.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The Hotel Pennsylvania, opposite Madison Square

  Garden and Penn Station.”

  “That’s perfect! Listen, we don’t have to go, but I have a

  spare ticket tomorrow night for—”

  “I’m really sorry, but I won’t be able to see you

  tomorrow. I already have plans. I have a handsome

  gentleman caller scheduled.” He winked. “But I promise we’ll

  get together before I leave for Canada.”

  “You old tart,” I laughed. “I really have missed you, you

  know.”

  “I’ve missed you more. I promise we’ll get a chance to do

  this again. Actually, it’ll probably be more regular than you

  think,” he said as he hailed a cab.

  “Seriously? You mean you’ll be working more in

  Toronto, because that’s not even an hour away by plane.” “Not just working. Living! Actually, it’s Niagara-on-theLake, which is even closer. Again, it’s a long story, but I’ll

  catch you up next time. I’ll be free Friday afternoon. Can you

  get any time off work?”

  “I’ll make sure I can!”

  We closed in for another hug. “You’ll be fine,” he

  whispered in my ear. His was one voice I believed.

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  Chapter Eleven

  Thursday, May 18, 2017 THERE was a brisk chill in the morning air as I rode around Central Park. I took stock of what I had to be grateful for. I had a job I enjoyed that afforded me the opportunity to meet amazing people. I worked with fantastic colleagues. Alex was in my life, though not in the capacity we might both have liked. I lived in the best city in the world, and my best friend was back in my life. All in all, I was doing very well.

  I was happy.

  Incredibly, for a split second, I felt a warm rush of affection for Richard and silently whispered a thank you to him. I couldn’t harbor the fury at him. It was like staying angry at a cyclist that knocks you down and lands you in the hospital, only for the doctors to detect a life-threatening illness that is treatable in the early stages. I knew, in this case, Richard was both the cyclist and the illness. But even so, I wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for him, regardless of the shitty route.

  WHEN I got to work, I saw Alex in the glass office with Clive. Neither of them was speaking and both had their eyes trained on Clive’s phone. Whatever conference call they were

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  on, it couldn’t have been going too well. Alex looked frustrated and was chewing the top of his pencil while Clive shook his head with an expression of disbelief.

  “It all looks a bit serious in there, doesn’t it?” Jackie said as I sat down.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Alex has heard back from his source in DC. He’s decided not to hand over whatever evidence he had for that senator being bribed. They’re on a call with him now, trying to get him to change his mind.”

  Just as Jackie finished, Clive lifted his receiver and slammed it back down again. He wasn’t happy. Judging by Alex’s face, they obviously hadn’t convinced the informant to come through for them. They both sat chewing on their lips in silence before Alex got up and walked out of the office toward his desk.

  “Are you okay, my love?” Jackie called to him.

  Alex changed direction and walked toward us. “He’s not going to change his mind. And to make matters worse, he just told Clive and me that he’s destroyed the original documents and erased the copies from his iPad.”

  “Do you think he’s telling the truth?” I asked. “It doesn’t really matter now. He’s made it clear he’s not going to produce them for me. So even if he isn’t telling the truth, accusing him of lying is just going to make matters worse. Ten weeks of hard work down the fucking tube.”

  Alex shook his head. I could tell he was furious, but he managed to remain composed. If any of the other journalists had gotten such news, there would’ve been paper, cell phones, and expletives flying through the air.

  126“I’d better get back to work. I have other pieces to work

>   on, and today is not the day to piss Clive off.” Alex continued, looking no less resigned that his story had been killed.

  “What are you up to tonight?” I asked. “Jackie, do you still have those spare tickets? My friend can’t make it as he has other plans, but I’m still game. Why doesn’t Alex take the other ticket?”

  “Wonderful idea! We can all have a cheeky little beverage!” Jackie said, trying to cheer Alex up. “So how about it?”

  “Tickets for what?” Alex asked. “Hockey game at the Garden.” She pulled the tickets from her desk drawer and read from them. “The New York Warriors versus the Tennessee Tigers, whoever they are,” Jackie replied. “Honestly, it’s brutish men gliding around, banging into one other. You like that sort of thing, right?”

  “No way! I’m a huge Warriors fan and tonight’s a big game. I’d love to come, and I’ll damn sure need a drink after this day is over,” Alex said with more gusto than his previous mood should have allowed.

  THE hockey match was my first time in Madison Square Garden. The street outside the front of the arena teemed with people wearing red hockey jerseys, intermingled with tourists that lined the block at the taxi rank and business commuters flooding in and out of Penn Station. The giant LED screens outside advertised upcoming attractions and cast extra light on the pavement, throwing colors that danced on the faces of people standing below.

  127Jackie, Alex, and I made our way through the crowds,

  each holding a plastic cup of beer we picked up at the concession stand. Jackie led us through the concourse to an entrance that was guarded by an usher. He checked our tickets to ensure we belonged in his section.

  “Exclusive, darling, very exclusive,” Jackie called as she stepped past the usher and into the arena.

  I followed close behind her. The second we stepped in, I was struck by the enormity of the place. Our seats were on the lower level, close to the ice in front of three levels of seating above us, all of which were packed with fans. Jackie pointed ahead of her, indicating our seats behind the home team bench.

  “Holy shit! We’ll be this close to them,” Alex called, holding his finger and thumb next to each other. He looked like a happy kid.

  Just as we were about to take our seats, Alex handed me his beer. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” I watched as he disappeared to the main concourse. Jackie looked back at me as if to ask where he was going. I shrugged, and we carried on down the stairs.

  Jackie and I sat down and shared a toast. The beer was cold and delicious. The seats in our section appeared to be wider and more cushioned than those I could see farther back. Jackie was right: It did feel very exclusive.

  I took in the view from our seats. The players were still warming up on the ice, skating in quick circles and practicing their shots at the goalie. A few remained on the bench, just in front of us. They all looked in amazing shape, as expected from professional athletes, but their uniforms and pads make them look even bigger. I’d never had much of a sports fetish but was starting to see the draw.

  128The players left the ice for what I presumed was their

  pregame pep talk. I turned to survey the audience, and spotted Alex coming down the stairs holding a plastic bag and three chili dogs. He took his seat next to me, and I handed back his beer.

  “Here, they’re your team now,” he said, presenting the bag to me like a gift.

  I opened it and found a New York Warriors jersey inside. Printed across the back of the shoulders in large white block letters was the name Lukas. I immediately threw it over my head. Jackie laughed but gave me her fashionista nod of approval. I pulled Alex into a one-armed hug, appreciative of the gesture. Maybe there wouldn’t be any awkwardness between us after all.

  Though I joined the legion of fans in red, Jackie looked as polished as usual. She wore a cream-colored pencil skirt and jacket. Her hair flowed loosely off her shoulder. She stood out among the crowd of women bouncing up and down in their red jerseys, foam fingers, and tied-back hair. I couldn’t help but laugh at her, though. Even though she was the embodiment of sophistication, she was leaning forward with a chili dog in one hand and a plastic cup of beer in the other. She even shouted at the players as they took to the rink.

  There was huge applause for the last Warrior player who skated onto the ice, wearing a jersey emblazoned with the number eight. He waved to the fans with as much enthusiasm as he received. A group of girls wearing the same number eight jersey appeared on the JumboTron jumping up and down and screaming in delight at their hero.

  This was the first time I’d seen an ice hockey game, and it was brutal. The players were slammed up against the

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  plexiglass with such force that the whole panel shook. The glass looked like it was about to fall into the spectators behind it. And whenever the player wearing the number eight got the puck, there was a deafening cheer.

  “That’s Noah Lukas, the guy whose name is on the back of your jersey. He’s one of the best players we’ve ever had. He’s retiring tonight, so people are cheering him on. He’s brought more victories to the Warriors than anyone else I can remember. The guy’s a fucking legend,” Alex explained.

  “So this is his last game?”

  “Yeah. It’s great that you get to see him in action before he leaves. They’re holding a big ceremony after the game to retire his jersey and bring in a new player.” Alex took a sip of beer. “I’d have given anything to be invited to that, but everyone in the city wanted a ticket.”

  “Well, dear Alex, do you believe in fairies?” Jackie asked with a smile on her face.

  “Huh?” he replied.

  “Come on, play the game. Clap your hands if you believe in fairies.”

  “You haven’t—”

  “Clap your damn hands!”

  With his hands only a couple of inches apart, Alex rapidly clapped his palms together as Jackie pulled three tickets from her bosom.

  “No fucking way!”

  “It’s not what you know, darling. It’s who you know.” He reached past me and hugged Jackie with the look of Charlie Bucket holding his golden ticket. I was handed one, too. I knew I should have been excited, but I was new to the game, so I didn’t share the same thrill. Frankly, I was more

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  excited by Alex reaching across me than the ticket. For a second I felt guilty. To make our friendship work, I had to condition myself to stop thinking about him that way.

  “It’s being held at the Lockers Bar straight after the game.”

  Alex was still staring at his ticket in disbelief. “How on earth did you manage to get these?” “It’s being sponsored by the company I used to work for,” Jackie said. She held up her plastic cup and tapped the Side Line beer logo with her perfectly manicured nail. “Oooh, and Dominic, you’ll be able to meet my friends Jay and Damon.” She pursed her lips before adding “They’re raging bum fun boys too!”

  After quite a few bone-crushing hits and not-so-few beers, the game ended in what seemed to be an easy win for the Warriors. Noah Lukas took a lone victory lap around the ice as his teammates and the crowd gave him a standing ovation.

  “Ted would have loved this,” Alex said, a little dewyeyed. “The Warriors were his favorite team. We never missed a game. Actually, this is the first time I’ve been here since I lost him. I still watch them on TV when they play, but I haven’t been to an actual game.”

  I stroked his back. It must have been difficult for him to be here with anyone other than the man he was so obviously devoted to.

  We battled the crowds and made our way to the Locker Bar, an enormous sports bar next to Madison Square Garden. We were met by huge security guards behind velvet ropes, who were checking tickets before allowing the fans to

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  pass. Scores of people lined up outside the door, all trying to get a glimpse inside. I began to get into the excitement as I handed over my ticket.

  Once inside the venue, the music blared and the lights swirled. A do
zen big screens were placed around the walls and above the bars, all playing highlights of Noah Lukas’s career. It was a big production that looked like no expense had been spared. People milled around wearing everything from Warrior jerseys to business suits. The wealthy seasonticket holders appeared to have a mixture of excitement and sadness on their faces. This Lukas guy was obviously a hero to them, and this was possibly the last time they’d get to meet him.

  Alex pointed out some of the portraits of sportsmen on the wall and explained who they were. I called out to Jackie to ask if she knew anything about these people, but all of a sudden, five—no, six—beautiful girls surged from the crowd and rushed in our direction. They were all wearing the same style hockey jerseys as us, but theirs were white and had Side Line printed across the front.

  Their jerseys were tailored to their bodies to show off their assets and match their tiny Daisy Duke shorts. They flooded around Jackie, who tried to hug them one at a time, while repeating, “I miss you, too.” Then I noticed a tall, wellbuilt man standing behind them, patiently waiting his turn. He, too, wore the Side Line beer logo, but it was against a black polo shirt.

  Jackie gave him the best reception. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. He spun her as he hugged her tightly.

  When he released her, he took a step back to look her up and down. “Jesus, Jacks, you could have made an effort

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  with yourself. Does your husband let you out of the house looking like that?” he teased. I noticed he had a British accent, too. “Where is he, by the way?”

  “Ah, Jay, so sorry, but there’s been a slight change of plans. Martin sends his apologies, but he has a meeting this evening and won’t be able to attend. Something about a multimillion-dollar deal. You know me, I tune out when he starts talking numbers,” Jackie said, stretching out her hands in front of her and examining her nails, as if the whole thing bored her. “Still, I guess I love him despite his work schedule.”