Even The Score (on hold)
chapter two
This chapter is dedicated to Henrik Lundqvist! Happy belated Birthday to you and your twin brother, you cuties! :-)
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I was never one to run away from my problems, to back down from a challenge, or to be anything but one hundred percent honest. If there was anything at all I had taken away from my childhood that would certainly be it.
My father was wise. He was noble, and brave, and honest; everything I had hoped to become. The standard was high but my ambitions were higher, and I'd study a little longer, practice a little harder, and try to be a little kinder just to hear him say "good job Addie, I'm so proud of you." He'd give you his million dollar smile and suddenly the world wasn't so evil anymore. Suddenly you felt like you could be something, all because you made him proud.
I had only seen that million dollar smile twice in my life. On one occasion, back when I was in high school, I confessed my plans to pursue a surgical career. He was thrilled, over the moon even, and not only did he flash me a smile and throw a praise my way, but he patted me on the back as well. I had thought I won the lottery. But then when I signed my contract with Victoria's Secret it's as if none of that mattered anymore. I was back to being second to Candice.
On another occasion I thought I finally had her beat. The look on his face when I brought home my first boyfriend, a centre for his first love: the New York Rangers, I'll never forget it. I don't think anyone will. The way he was so willing to give out his approval that even I had yet to win over. Derick Brassard had become a part of the family in the long while we were together. He would give us tickets, the good kind just above the Rangers' penalty box, and in return dad became a father figure to my boyfriend who so desperately lacked a normal relationship with his own father.
"He's great, sweetie," my dad would say to any guy Candice dared to introduce to him, "but Addison is dating a New York Ranger." It was in only those moments that I hadn't fallen second to my older the sister. The same sister who, according to the media, according to my dad, "paved the way for my career," or "became the face of Victoria's Secret, outshining her lesser paid young sister Addison." I wish I could say those weren't the direct quotes.
"Addison could have been engaged to a New York Ranger," that's what he'd say now. It didn't matter that I was making six figures, or working with charities, or even that I was happy. I was the girl who could have had Derick Brassard, but said no.
"Addison, over here!" The shout of an unfamiliar voice interrupted my thoughts. I had mindlessly stepped outside into the busy streets just outside of my home. Without the security of my Ray Bans the Dallas sunlight was blinding, even in the winter month of March. The camera flashes only added to the strain of my eyes and I shuffled quickly towards my black SUV to shield myself.
I often tried to ignore the heinous and irrelevant things shouted at me but in some cases it was much easier said than done. With no where to escape the intruders on my sidewalk I couldn't help but overhear some of what they had to say.
"Congratulations on launching the newest Victoria's Secret fragrance!"
"How do you like living in Dallas? What's it like compared to New York?"
"Is it true you moved here because of what happened with Derick Brassard five months ago?" This one bothered me. I shook my head no, despite the possible truths to that statement that I wasn't yet ready to explore.
"Did you call Henrik Lundqvist and wish him a happy birthday?" This was the last and most important question that caught my attention before I slammed the car door shut. March second had approached in the blink of an eye and I hadn't realize that today was the birthday of the man who kept me sane throughout my residency in NYC.
I started the engine, vowing to call him after my photoshoot, and drove off towards Sunset Studios careful not to hit any of the reporters crowded on my sidewalk.
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Bikinis in March; not something you see everyday, not even in the Lone Star State. It wasn't a popular concept because it shouldn't be. The sky is clear and the sun is bright but it's lying to you. The water is far too cold for any sort of outdoor photoshoot and I would not willingly drag my half naked body into any non-heated bodies of water. Not even after a long drive to the beautiful Gulf of Mexico.
"C'mon Addie," Russell urges me out of the dressing room (which in this case was actually a portable trailer) from the other side of the door. "The sooner you start the sooner it's over, love."
I smiled reluctantly at his Australian accent. It was kind of adorable, at least I thought so. So much so that I opened the dressing room door slowly and exited into the fifty two degree weather in just a cheetah print two piece with mint green strings.
"And that's why you're my favorite, such a hard worker," he grinned. It was little comments like that, that made it bearable. The cold weather, the awkward positions, the idea of being half naked for a couple of hours. He made you feel comfortable. "Now let's get started, shall we?"
I muttered a quick thank you to my make up artist Kylie, the goddess of contouring and making your fake tan look not so fake. She could make you flawless even without using the basic eye makeup techniques, instead keeping it as natural as possible. And yes, that means you're free to rub your eyes as much as you want. Ladies, you know what I mean.
The water was warmer than I had anticipated. It was bearable though it wasn't enjoyable, but as the sun rose higher in the sky as we began to approach noon I could feel a slight increase in the temperature. We had finished nearing the eleven thirty mark as opposed to the expected twelve thirty. I didn't bother to scroll through the camera in the midst of this extra time. My opinion didn't matter anyway when selecting photos for the swimsuit catalog. So instead I trotted back to the trailer to see Kylie and change back into my clothes, leaving Russell behind to examine his work.
When the dressing room came into view I sped up. The feeling of sand stuck to my body made me feel dirty and taking a shower was the only thing on my mind right now. I reached for the door handle and tugged down. I was stopped short. I tugged again slightly harder this time but I received the same results.
A sudden gust of wind had me shaking in my boots. "Kylie," I groaned banging on the door loudly. No answer.
"Kylie!" I was louder this time, but still there was no answer.
I groaned, leaning against the door and sliding down so that I was siting with my back against the white surface. My phone, my keys, my wallet, my clothes; everything was in there.
Please, please. Someone, anyone, just open the door. My wet body shivered as I continued to pray silently to whatever god was willing to listen to me.
"Well I'm not exactly God," an unfamiliar voice chuckled a few feet in front of me, " but I can answer your prayers."
I stood up as he spoke, brushing off as much sand as I could. The voice belonged to a man standing about 5 feet in front of me. He sported a dark blue Seattle Seahawks sweatshirt that was a little too big for him, but still I could make out his broad shoulders through the thick material. I didn't make it any further than that in examining his outfit because once I caught a glimpse of the dark features of his face I couldn't look away.
"And what exactly does that mean?" I asked.
"It means you aren't getting into that trailer. My friend and your friend are kind of busy," he chuckled, shaking his head, "but your friend, she gave me some of your things. Actually she threw them at me while Tyler.. that's my friend..while he was, uh, distracting her."
I bit my lip to hold back the laughter that was threatening to explode. Kylie had thrown my things at someone while some guy was essentially trying to have sex with her on the spot.
"That's.." I trailed off. "That's.. interesting."
He nodded in agreement.
"Here." He reached into his pockets before tossing my keys and wallet in my direction. Literally, he tossed them. I had scrambled to catch them and I was successful, but I imagined my surprised facial expressions were anything but pleasant.
"My phone?" I acknowledged my most important asset that was missing from the pile.
He nodded and pulled it from his pocket. I had prepared myself to catch it but it was never released from his hands. Instead his long fingers toyed with it as he looked up at me.
"I can't give this back to you until I've at least gotten your number." he winked.
I couldn't contain my laughter, "is that supposed to be a pickup line?"
"Depends. Do you want your phone?" I just shook my head in disbelief, a grin spread across my face.
I closed the gap between us with several small steps. He stood at what I assumed was near six foot two, towering over me by about six inches. I didn't waste any time, reaching for my phone instantly and catching him off guard. The element of surprise was on my side as I grabbed my clothes he had hidden behind his back as well.
"Thanks fuck boy. This was fun, but I must get going," I spoke as I took off in the other direction.
"Fuck boy? I'm not a fuck boy," he seemed slightly offended at my declaration. "I'm Ja-"
I cut him off. "Jamie Benn, I know. I happen to know a thing or two about hockey."
And with that I strutted towards my car without so much as another word to the overly confident captain of the Dallas Stars that I had left behind. I threw my clothes on as quickly as I could in the confined space of my car and pulled out my phone to call the birthday boy who I was missing more than ever.
✧✧✧
✧✧✧
I was never one to run away from my problems, to back down from a challenge, or to be anything but one hundred percent honest. If there was anything at all I had taken away from my childhood that would certainly be it.
My father was wise. He was noble, and brave, and honest; everything I had hoped to become. The standard was high but my ambitions were higher, and I'd study a little longer, practice a little harder, and try to be a little kinder just to hear him say "good job Addie, I'm so proud of you." He'd give you his million dollar smile and suddenly the world wasn't so evil anymore. Suddenly you felt like you could be something, all because you made him proud.
I had only seen that million dollar smile twice in my life. On one occasion, back when I was in high school, I confessed my plans to pursue a surgical career. He was thrilled, over the moon even, and not only did he flash me a smile and throw a praise my way, but he patted me on the back as well. I had thought I won the lottery. But then when I signed my contract with Victoria's Secret it's as if none of that mattered anymore. I was back to being second to Candice.
On another occasion I thought I finally had her beat. The look on his face when I brought home my first boyfriend, a centre for his first love: the New York Rangers, I'll never forget it. I don't think anyone will. The way he was so willing to give out his approval that even I had yet to win over. Derick Brassard had become a part of the family in the long while we were together. He would give us tickets, the good kind just above the Rangers' penalty box, and in return dad became a father figure to my boyfriend who so desperately lacked a normal relationship with his own father.
"He's great, sweetie," my dad would say to any guy Candice dared to introduce to him, "but Addison is dating a New York Ranger." It was in only those moments that I hadn't fallen second to my older the sister. The same sister who, according to the media, according to my dad, "paved the way for my career," or "became the face of Victoria's Secret, outshining her lesser paid young sister Addison." I wish I could say those weren't the direct quotes.
"Addison could have been engaged to a New York Ranger," that's what he'd say now. It didn't matter that I was making six figures, or working with charities, or even that I was happy. I was the girl who could have had Derick Brassard, but said no.
"Addison, over here!" The shout of an unfamiliar voice interrupted my thoughts. I had mindlessly stepped outside into the busy streets just outside of my home. Without the security of my Ray Bans the Dallas sunlight was blinding, even in the winter month of March. The camera flashes only added to the strain of my eyes and I shuffled quickly towards my black SUV to shield myself.
I often tried to ignore the heinous and irrelevant things shouted at me but in some cases it was much easier said than done. With no where to escape the intruders on my sidewalk I couldn't help but overhear some of what they had to say.
"Congratulations on launching the newest Victoria's Secret fragrance!"
"How do you like living in Dallas? What's it like compared to New York?"
"Is it true you moved here because of what happened with Derick Brassard five months ago?" This one bothered me. I shook my head no, despite the possible truths to that statement that I wasn't yet ready to explore.
"Did you call Henrik Lundqvist and wish him a happy birthday?" This was the last and most important question that caught my attention before I slammed the car door shut. March second had approached in the blink of an eye and I hadn't realize that today was the birthday of the man who kept me sane throughout my residency in NYC.
I started the engine, vowing to call him after my photoshoot, and drove off towards Sunset Studios careful not to hit any of the reporters crowded on my sidewalk.
--------------
Bikinis in March; not something you see everyday, not even in the Lone Star State. It wasn't a popular concept because it shouldn't be. The sky is clear and the sun is bright but it's lying to you. The water is far too cold for any sort of outdoor photoshoot and I would not willingly drag my half naked body into any non-heated bodies of water. Not even after a long drive to the beautiful Gulf of Mexico.
"C'mon Addie," Russell urges me out of the dressing room (which in this case was actually a portable trailer) from the other side of the door. "The sooner you start the sooner it's over, love."
I smiled reluctantly at his Australian accent. It was kind of adorable, at least I thought so. So much so that I opened the dressing room door slowly and exited into the fifty two degree weather in just a cheetah print two piece with mint green strings.
"And that's why you're my favorite, such a hard worker," he grinned. It was little comments like that, that made it bearable. The cold weather, the awkward positions, the idea of being half naked for a couple of hours. He made you feel comfortable. "Now let's get started, shall we?"
I muttered a quick thank you to my make up artist Kylie, the goddess of contouring and making your fake tan look not so fake. She could make you flawless even without using the basic eye makeup techniques, instead keeping it as natural as possible. And yes, that means you're free to rub your eyes as much as you want. Ladies, you know what I mean.
The water was warmer than I had anticipated. It was bearable though it wasn't enjoyable, but as the sun rose higher in the sky as we began to approach noon I could feel a slight increase in the temperature. We had finished nearing the eleven thirty mark as opposed to the expected twelve thirty. I didn't bother to scroll through the camera in the midst of this extra time. My opinion didn't matter anyway when selecting photos for the swimsuit catalog. So instead I trotted back to the trailer to see Kylie and change back into my clothes, leaving Russell behind to examine his work.
When the dressing room came into view I sped up. The feeling of sand stuck to my body made me feel dirty and taking a shower was the only thing on my mind right now. I reached for the door handle and tugged down. I was stopped short. I tugged again slightly harder this time but I received the same results.
A sudden gust of wind had me shaking in my boots. "Kylie," I groaned banging on the door loudly. No answer.
"Kylie!" I was louder this time, but still there was no answer.
I groaned, leaning against the door and sliding down so that I was siting with my back against the white surface. My phone, my keys, my wallet, my clothes; everything was in there.
Please, please. Someone, anyone, just open the door. My wet body shivered as I continued to pray silently to whatever god was willing to listen to me.
"Well I'm not exactly God," an unfamiliar voice chuckled a few feet in front of me, " but I can answer your prayers."
I stood up as he spoke, brushing off as much sand as I could. The voice belonged to a man standing about 5 feet in front of me. He sported a dark blue Seattle Seahawks sweatshirt that was a little too big for him, but still I could make out his broad shoulders through the thick material. I didn't make it any further than that in examining his outfit because once I caught a glimpse of the dark features of his face I couldn't look away.
"And what exactly does that mean?" I asked.
"It means you aren't getting into that trailer. My friend and your friend are kind of busy," he chuckled, shaking his head, "but your friend, she gave me some of your things. Actually she threw them at me while Tyler.. that's my friend..while he was, uh, distracting her."
I bit my lip to hold back the laughter that was threatening to explode. Kylie had thrown my things at someone while some guy was essentially trying to have sex with her on the spot.
"That's.." I trailed off. "That's.. interesting."
He nodded in agreement.
"Here." He reached into his pockets before tossing my keys and wallet in my direction. Literally, he tossed them. I had scrambled to catch them and I was successful, but I imagined my surprised facial expressions were anything but pleasant.
"My phone?" I acknowledged my most important asset that was missing from the pile.
He nodded and pulled it from his pocket. I had prepared myself to catch it but it was never released from his hands. Instead his long fingers toyed with it as he looked up at me.
"I can't give this back to you until I've at least gotten your number." he winked.
I couldn't contain my laughter, "is that supposed to be a pickup line?"
"Depends. Do you want your phone?" I just shook my head in disbelief, a grin spread across my face.
I closed the gap between us with several small steps. He stood at what I assumed was near six foot two, towering over me by about six inches. I didn't waste any time, reaching for my phone instantly and catching him off guard. The element of surprise was on my side as I grabbed my clothes he had hidden behind his back as well.
"Thanks fuck boy. This was fun, but I must get going," I spoke as I took off in the other direction.
"Fuck boy? I'm not a fuck boy," he seemed slightly offended at my declaration. "I'm Ja-"
I cut him off. "Jamie Benn, I know. I happen to know a thing or two about hockey."
And with that I strutted towards my car without so much as another word to the overly confident captain of the Dallas Stars that I had left behind. I threw my clothes on as quickly as I could in the confined space of my car and pulled out my phone to call the birthday boy who I was missing more than ever.
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Notes
hey guys! I had intended to post this chapter much sooner because the beginning is mostly about character development and setting up the rest of the story, but I'm sorry it took this long. between the Rangers stressing me out by constantly going into overtime and trying to write some of the six essays that await me as far as school goes, it just wasn't possible. thanks to everyone who read and/or subscribed to this story. y'all are the best!
(p.s. I didn't edit this because I really don't have time. In fact, I posted this immediately after I finished writing it so I'm not even entirely sure what I did write. please try to ignore any spelling or grammatical errors, i'll fix them eventually!) xxx
You're such a good writer!
5/18/15