Perfect Symmetry

That entire first week was pretty crazy. I settled into the office, and Alex and Dave gave me a rundown on exactly what I would be doing.

“You’re essentially shadowing them,” Dave explained. “But it’s all very in-depth. Since it’s all sponsored by the teams themselves, it’s all going to be very positive and light, but it has to be thorough. You’ll be at most home games, you’ll be on the road with them for away games, you’ll be in the locker room at practice and inside during the intermission pep talks. Just write what you see. And take photos too; you’ll be given a handy one. You have to document their successes, their losses, their charity events, and even their lives off-ice, to some extent. You’ll have to choose a couple players to go deep with.”

“No pressure or anything,” Alex joked. “But seriously, it should be fun. We want to document the road to the Stanley Cup playoffs, even if they get eliminated first round.”

“So do I just pick a few games and focus on them?” I asked in confusion.

“No, this is several months of work. Just pick and choose several and compile your experience. You just have to get used to snapping pictures and writing descriptions for everything you see. It’s a journalism and marketing task,” Dave elaborated.

“Think you can do it?” Alex waggled his eyebrows at me.

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m going to own this.”

“Great! Your first meeting with the team is tomorrow morning. But I wanted to say something before you rush off,” Alex called me back as I stood up to get some paperwork done.

“Oh?” I queried. “Shoot.”

“Well...we...we don’t know what your office was like in Chicago, but we’re all pretty laid back here, and you dress very well, it’s just a bit too serious and professional for us. I mean look at Dave, he’s always in polo shirts, and I’m usually just in t-shirts,” Alex stumbled over his words.

“Women have to dress up in the workplace in order to be taken seriously. It’s an unfortunate fact of the patriarchy,” I retorted coolly, smoothing my grey blazer properly.

Dave smirked. “Hey Tess! Have you met Jazz?”

A tall woman with dirty blonde hair and killer green eyes poked her head out of one of the cubicles and gave me a warm smile.

“Hey, what’s up? I’m Tess. And I overheard your conversation, and normally I would agree with you. But I’m ranked higher than most people in this office and I’m wearing black skinny jeans and a sweater,” she laughed.

I blushed. “Oh! Well I wasn’t sure how people dressed here, and I figure it’s better to dress up than dress down, right?”

Tess nodded brightly. “You can wear whatever, but I think you’ll find that covering athletes is a lot easier in comfortable clothing. Let your hair down, girl!”

I grinned. I agreed with Tess, and I had a feeling she was a very cool person. Anyway, I took her advice to heart as I dressed for my first team meeting the next morning. Mirroring what Tess was wearing yesterday, I too wore my black skinny jeans but I chose a long sleeved, loose red button up shirt to wear with it. I wore my wavy hair down and I wore a bit of eyeliner. It was the most effort I had put into my appearance since leaving Chicago. I was too timid to wear lipstick that matched my shirt so I simply slathered some chapstick onto my lips and grabbed the digital camera given to me and my notebook and pen and shoved them into a tote bag and ran out.

I squinted at the address Jack had given me and plugged it into the car’s GPS. I don’t know why I was surprised when I pulled up at an ice rink. Where exactly did I think hockey team meetings took place??

My stomach was churning as I walked into the empty rink. I hoped I was in the right place, and I walked along the boards and looked at the perfectly smooth ice.

“Ms. Patil?” a deep, authoritative voice called out.
My head snapped up and I saw the imposing Dan Bylsma standing on the other side of the ice, waving me over. I walked around quickly, trying to keep my breathing in check.

“Mr. Bylsma,” I greeted. “We met briefly a while ago; it’s good to see you again, sir.”

“Just call me Dan; everyone else does,” he chuckled. “So the boys will be out soon; I’ll let you make an announcement and explain what you’re doing, okay?”

“Do they have any idea?” I asked curiously.

“They did a professional photoshoot for part of it last week, but they weren’t really told about your role and how deep you’ll be involved in the team. But you can tell them all that,” Dan waved that off.

I gulped and was about to say something to the contrary, but just as I did, a large pile of noise echoed off the walls and a bunch of hockey players skated onto the ice, doing a few laps and playing idly with pucks. They did so for a few minutes before Dan called them all together.

“Hey boys, let’s gather around here, please,” he announced loudly. The talking and jokes quietened as the team skated towards the bench. “Alright quick announcement. You know that the team is having a portfolio for the second half of the season made up, and this is the woman in charge of it. Jazz, take it away.”

I smiled nervously. “Hello everyone; I’m Jazz, and basically I’ll be part of the team for the next few months. I’ll be in the locker room, away games, road trips, charity events...basically you won’t be able to get rid of me.” That elicited a few laughs, which encouraged me. “I will also be doing some off-ice profiles of a few of you, and I will gladly take volunteers. On the flip side, if you would really prefer not to have a star role in this, just let me know. I’ll be taking some photos and doing some writing about the team as a whole, but if you really don’t want a lot of individual attention, that can definitely be arranged.”

I glanced at everyone except Sidney, who I noticed in the front staring at me intently, his eyes sparkling. I refused to make eye contact with him.

“Well, I’ll meet you all properly after practice, so that’s all I have to say,” I ended my little spiel awkwardly.

Most of them went back to their skating, but Sid was giving me a funny look and skated right up to me.

“Jazz; how are you?” he asked with a grin.

“Fine, Sid,” I replied. “Go practice; we can talk after, okay?”

He furrowed his brow but did as I said, going back to skating with his teammates. I stood with Dan for a few minutes, chatting lightly before retreating to the locker room, trying to steady my breathing. I don’t know why I hadn’t acknowledged Sidney. Maybe it was because I was trying to be professional. Maybe I didn’t see him at first. Or maybe he was a reminder of a part of my life that I was trying desperately to forget.

I let the silence overcome me, and closed my eyes. I would have to face them all soon.
~
Meanwhile, in Chicago

“Kaner, I need you to take me out,” Jon’s voice was hoarse and desperate.

“What?” Patrick groaned from his side of the phone. It was almost ten at night, and Pat had wanted an early night for once.

“Yeah, I need you to take me out so that I can do what I usually do whenever I break up with a girl,” he explained.

Pat rubbed his temples. “I don’t think your usual method of fucking whatever looks good to you is going to work this time, Tazer. We’ve been going out every night the past few days.”

“Well I’ve got to do something,” Jon whispered in frustration. “It’s been a couple weeks now, and she hasn’t even texted me. Or acknowledged me at all, really.”

Patrick bit his lip. He hadn’t found a way to tell Jon that Jazz was living in an entirely different city. Not that he knew much more than that. She had called him once to inform him that she was okay and settled in, and he had called her a couple times, but she never really replied to any of them, and the brief texts were hardly substitute for a conversation. Perhaps it was time to tell him.

“Jonathan…” Pat paused.

“Yeah?” Jon pressed impatiently.

Patrick sighed. “Sure, I’ll take you out. I’ll meet you at the usual place in half an hour.”

An hour or so later, Patrick was sipping the same drink he had been nursing since he arrived, and Jonathan was not. Jonathan was also sitting next to a very attractive, very eager woman. She had beautiful auburn locks and an intelligent smile, and had introduced herself as Ashleigh. Pat wondered what her life was like, and was trying to guess her last name in his head when Jonathan leaned over and kissed her. She was obviously surprised, but she didn’t resist.

Pat averted his eyes. He knew what happened now. Suddenly there was a gentle tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, is your friend okay? He seems pretty out of it and I don’t want him doing anything tonight he’s going to regret in the morning,” Ashleigh had a very concerned look on her face.

Pat snorted. “Yeah, he’s out of it. And yeah, he regrets stuff. But it has nothing to what he does tonight.”

Ashleigh raised her eyebrows. “Does he do this kind of thing a lot?”

Pat rolled his eyes. “He’s a pro athlete, what do you think? Although he hasn’t done this in a while. But, circumstances change I guess.”

Ashleigh frowned, looking at Pat like he was a bit of a weirdo. He didn’t care. Why should he? He was tired; tired of drinking and tired of bars.

“Well, thanks for nothing,” she muttered before walking back to Jonathan.

Patrick ignored her and thought about calling Jazz, but decided against it. He watched Jonathan laugh and kiss this girl and he wanted to be sick. There had to be a better way to get over somebody. Or perhaps he wouldn’t have to get over her. Maybe Pat could help fix it.
~
Back in Pittsburgh

“So what was up with the cold shoulder earlier?” Sid asked me as I made my rounds around the locker room, introducing myself and trying to be friendly.

I shrugged. “Sorry. I just didn’t want to seem unprofessional.”

“You’re going to be a part of our lives for the next few months anyway, it’s just that we have a bit of a head start on the others,” he replied with a smile. “So how have you been? We never really talked after the ads.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m good. What about you?”

“Good. Teams doing well, I’m doing well, right?” he joked, but I didn’t really laugh. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “And how’s your Captain Serious? A little birdie told me you two have been a couple for a while now.”

I sniffed. “He’s um...I don’t actually know. We uh...broke up a couple weeks ago.”

Sidney’s entire expression changed into one of compassion and contrition, his eyes soft and his smile fading.

“Oh Jazz, I’m so sorry; I didn’t know, obviously. Is there anything I can do?” he was very nice, placing a hand on my shoulder carefully.

I blinked back tears. “Uh, yeah. Could we not talk about this now, when I’m surrounded by people who have to respect me for the next few months?”

He nodded solemnly and raised his voice dramatically. “So can I introduce you to our illustrious goaltender?”

I nodded eagerly. “Please do.”

“Illustrious? Are you talking about me?” a French accent boomed from a few feet away.

Marc-Andre Fleury was taking off his pads, and had a large grin plastered on his face as he reached for a sip of Gatorade.

“No one else, Flower. Never,” Sid chortled.

Fleury walked over. “So you’re the one stalking us for months, huh?”

I looked petrified. “Is that what people think? No! I’m just going to be--”

Marc held up his hand. “Calm down, mon cher. I was only teasing. Really, I don’t mind stalkers. Especially such pretty ones.”

I snorted. “The pretty ones are the most dangerous ones, mon cher,” I bit back.

Marc smiled in approval. “Good; you've got some...what's it called in American...spunk! I approve. Geno will like you too.”

“I like who?” Evgeni Malkin poked his head around and looked curiously at the scene before him.

“Her,” Sid pointed at me. “This is Jazz; she’s a part of the team for now.”

Geno’s eyes glanced between me and Sid. “You two date?”

I shook my head violently. “No! I’m a writer. I’m writing about the Penguins.”

He nodded. “Okay. No pictures right?”

I grimaced. “Sorry, yes pictures. Lots, I’m afraid.”

A tall, blonde figure emerged from the showers, unashamedly half-nude and confidently staring me down.

“Excellent. I am extremely photogenic you know,” he announced, striking a pose. “I’m Jordan.”

I averted my eyes modestly. “I know. I’m Jazz.”

“Sweet name,” he beamed. “Great to meet you. And feel free to invade whatever part of my life you feel will be necessary for your journalistic endeavours.”

I blushed. Great, another team to make my face red all day.
Jordan evidently noticed, since he winked at me before sauntering off to get dressed. I groaned in exasperation and looked at Sid and Marc-Andre.

“Is he always like that?” I queried hopefully.

The two teammates shared a knowing look before turning back to me with knowing smiles on both of their faces.

“Yes,” they replied in unison.

I sighed deeply.

“But they aren’t all like that,” Sidney piped up to save his teammates’ face. “Uh-Tanger! Get over here for a second.”

Two beautiful men walked towards us, both in deep conversation with each other. The one with the smooth, alabaster skin and almost black hair I knew had to be Kris Letang. He really looked like a statue or sculpture. He gave me a shy smile once he and his teammate joined our little group.

“Jazz, this is Kris. Tanger, this is Jazz; she’s doing an exposition on us for the Penguins organization,” Sid explained. Then his brow furrowed suddenly. “What are you doing here, Neal; I didn’t ask for you.”

Kris’ companion smiled affably. “Well you know me, Captain. I hear your voice and I come running like a puppy.”

I forced back a giggle at that. I knew immediately what kind of guy this was. He was a charmer, with the most beautiful blue-green eyes and a healthy amount of scruff on his face. He was just as good looking as Kris, but in a very different way. He seemed to balance his friend well.

“Hi Jazz; I’m James,” he told me, breaking my reverie.

I hurried to put a smile on my face.

“Hi James,” I replied kindly. “It’s great to meet you. This is your first season in Pittsburgh, isn’t it?”

“Yup; Nisky, Alex and I were sent over together,” he nodded politely. “So we’re used to our team, but not the weather.”

I laughed genuinely at that. I chatted with a few more people, including Matt Niskanen, Brooks Orpik, and Rob Scuderi. We were all talking when James Neal suggested we go to my place for some drinks and television, since he somehow knew how big my TV was. Some of the guys agreed, but some declined. I finally agreed, and after a few more minutes I drove home and undressed and sunk into my bed and thought about calling Jon before settling for calling Hailey.

“Hey babe,” she answered in the pitying voice she used for abandoned puppies and scolded children.

“What’s the matter?” I groaned, sitting up in bed and fingering my straightened hair in dissatisfaction.

“I just got off the phone with a very tired, upset Kaner,” she replied with a sigh. “And he’s been telling me about what Jon’s been up to.”

I gulped. “I bet he’s been plenty active socially. With the guys, at the bars. You know.”

“Well, yeah, he has. He’s been at the bars...with girls, and leaving with them.”

I took a deep breath, clenching my fists. We had only been separated for a few weeks. How long had he been holding in these sexual urges? Did it really take him less than a month to get over me?

“He..he’s been with other girls,” I choked, sinking back into my bed and squeezing my eyes shut as tears threatened to leak all over me.

“Jazz...Brent didn’t want me to tell you, but I insisted you had a right. Was I wrong?” Hailey sounded really worried so I sucked it up.

“Umm...yeah. It’s good that I know, I guess. You were right. I can even tell Brent for you if you like,” I offered jokingly. “But if we’re using that logic, someone has to tell Jon where I am. I don’t think he even knows I’m in a different city. I mean, it’s not like he’ll actually care, but you know...could you let him know?”

Hailey’s voice softened. “Oh Jazz. He absolutely cares. And I’ll make sure he knows somehow, okay? So how are you?”

“I actually have to go,” I said abruptly. “I’ve got people coming over. But I’ll uh, call you later, okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, but--” I didn’t hear all of what Hailey said because I hung up and cried.