by Holly Jaymes
I headed to work, and each time the bell over the door chimed, I looked up in fear of reporters or an angry local mob, but the day progressed as usual. That is until about two, when a small group of young adult tourists popped in. They looked at me, snickered, and one girl snapped a picture on her phone. Then they worked to make their expressions normal as they came up to the counter to order drinks. They didn’t say anything except their drink order. Maybe I was being paranoid.
Then Willa walked in, looking very serious.
“When do you get off?” she said, her voice tight.
“Three. Janell should be here soon.” My insides were tied in knots.
Willa ordered a drink, and then said that she needed to talk to me when I was off. Since she was married to Tucker’s brother, I knew it had to be related to him. She was likely going to say unkind things, but since I didn’t know what else to do, I agreed to meet with her. She took the drink I made for her and sat at a table until I was off.
Just before three, Janell walked in. Her usually friendly eyes shot daggers at me as she came to the counter. It made sense Willa would know since she was Tucker’s sister-in-law, but the fact that Janell knew meant my name had been released to the media. In his defense, if Tucker outed me, I wanted to be mad about it, except the pictures were mine. What else could he think? At the same time, he should have trusted me when I told him I didn’t sell them. God, what a mess.
Willa stood, tossed her cup, and came up to the counter. “Are you okay working here alone?” she asked Janell.
“I’ll be better working alone,” she said with a glare at me.
I swallowed, wondering how I was going to live in a town that despised me? “Let me get my purse.”
Several minutes later, Willa and I were walking in the park along the lake.
“Mason and I are stunned and completely shocked. Why would you do this?”
I stopped and used my hand on her forearm to stop her. “Is Tucker okay? Does he still have his job?”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “If you’re so worried about his job, why did you do this?”
“I didn’t. You have to believe me. I didn’t leak those photos.” I willed her to believe me.
“Are they yours?”
“Yes, but I didn’t give them to anyone. Willa, you have to believe me.” I longed for the words to make her believe me, and in turn, make Tucker believe me too.
“Why? Why should I believe you? We know you think Tucker is a player.”
“That’s not true. I think Tucker is wonderful.” I hiccupped and only then realized I was crying. “I love him.”
Willa arched one brow. “This is a hell of a way to show him.”
I sniffed and wiped my face. “I wanted to paint him. Those pictures were for me and me only, so I could paint him.”
“So, you’d paint him like that and then sell his image. I’m not sure that’s much different.”
“His face would be obscured. But it would be his body.” I knew that didn’t sound right, but I wasn’t sure an art lesson in form would work here.
She started walking again, and I joined her. “If those pictures are for you only, then how are they now on the Internet?”
“I don’t know.”
She must have been able to tell that I had a suspicion. “But you have an idea?”
“At my retreat, I’d forgotten that my phone photos were also on my tablet. I let my friends look at something else on my tablet, not Tucker. But I left them with it to get wine and they found the pictures of Tucker.”
“You think your friends did this?” She glanced at me.
“I think the granddaughter of one of my friends did this,” I said, hating to accuse Clara’s granddaughter.
“What does she say?”
I looked out over the lake. “I haven’t confronted her.”
Willa stopped. “Why? She stole from you and profited, and in doing so, she may have ruined Tucker’s career. And you haven’t bothered to ask them about it? Did you get a cut or something?”
“What? No. I just…I haven’t been able to think straight. I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid anything I do will make it worse. What should I do?”
She studied me and I looked for a sign that she would take pity. “You’re going to have to leave town.”
“What?” My stomach dropped.
“At least for a little while. Is there somewhere you can go?”
I thought about my mother, but I didn’t want to have to explain to her about Tucker and then hear her lecture on how rotten men were.
“I thought we were friends,” I said.
She put her hands on her hips as she glared at me. “I thought so too, Emma. And then you ripped my brother-in-law’s heart out and possibly ruined his career.”
I pressed my hands over my heart as it felt the same. “I didn’t mean to…I…”
“Do you really love him?”
“I do. I really do.” I nodded, like somehow my bobbing head would make a difference. That it would turn this shitstorm around.
“As it turns out, I’m a sucker for love. And I’m also not wanting to see you get completely destroyed, which is going to happen, Emma. I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean?” I felt like I was standing on shaky ground and that all around me was falling away. At some point, I was about to tumble into the abyss.
“I mean, the publicity people around Tucker are spinning this to make you look bad. They are saying you seduced him. You made him fall for you, and under the guise of art, had him pose and then sold the pictures for a big payout to fund your gallery.”
“No, I’d never…”
She shrugged. “That’s what is being said—”
“Why. Why would they say that?”
“Because they have a multi-million-dollar investment to protect. This story makes him the victim and you—”
“The bad guy.”
“That’s right. Reporters are going to camp out at your place. You won’t be able to go anywhere. I suspect you'll need to close your social accounts as you’ll get some nasty comments. I’m not running you out of town, Emma. I’m trying to protect you by telling you to find someplace where you can be where these people can’t reach you.”
I nodded as I understood what was happening. “I…I don’t know…where to go.”
“I’ve talked to Allie. Her family has a beach home in Malibu. No one is there now. She’s agreed that you can go there for a while.”
“Why are you doing this for me?” I asked.
“Because in all the time I’ve known Tucker, and remember, I grew up with him, I’ve never known him to be in love.”
My heart twisted in agony. “Love? Did he tell you that?”
“No. Mason told me that he said that. And then he told me how wrecked Tucker was. Tucker has his issues, but he’s the sweetest man. I love him to death, and it’s hard not to hate you for hurting him.”
“I didn’t mean for all this—”
“I believe you, which is why I’m helping.”
I felt like I wanted to hug her. I was alone in the world right now, except for her. “Thank you.”
“I’ll follow you home, so you can pack. Then, you can drive to Malibu. Hopefully, the paparazzi haven’t found your place yet.”
That’s how, five hours later, I was in a fancy beach home in Malibu hiding and feeling completely gutted. Willa had been right. I was vilified in the media. I took down my Instagram and closed my Etsy shop. Whoever stole my pictures had not only hurt Tucker’s dream, but also, killed mine.
Oops Chapter Twenty-One: Fighting for My Dream
Tucker
When I arrived at my penthouse, the first thing I did was to grab a drink, even as Mason’s warning about not doing something stupid loomed in my brain. After the morning I’d had, I needed one drink. Anyone would.
I took the drink to my bedroom, and stood at the window overlooking Los Angeles. This was why you followed rules, I heard my mo
ther say. Of course, I hadn’t called her to tell her what was up, but that’s what she would say. It was what she always said when I got in trouble. She was right. I should have never touched Emma.
I rubbed my hand over my chest, wondering how much booze it would take to dull the pain lodged in it. Deciding Mason was right, and I couldn’t go overboard, I finished the one drink I had, but didn’t get more. Instead, I lay on my bed, and waited until Lauren arrived.
Later in the afternoon, she and I sat at my kitchen table as she went through the story that we’d tell the team owner, manager, and coach when we met with them later that night.
“You’ll need to make them believe you really loved her,” she said, as she finished the scheme that involved Emma conniving her way into my life and using me to make money with her art. It didn’t sit well, and yet, that’s exactly what happened. Maybe she didn’t set out to use me. More likely, she saw the results from that Instagram photo of me with her art and saw the potential. The fucked-up thing was that had she asked, I’d have invested in her studio.
“How do I do that?” I asked. “Because I really did love her. I don’t have to act.”
Lauren sighed. “I don’t know, Tucker. We just need them to see you as the victim here.”
I didn’t like that either.
“The photos aren’t distasteful or lewd. I think we can make this work if we can show them you weren’t being your usual party-without-a-care self,” she finished.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“They want to see you train tomorrow too. Before they invest too much time, they want to know how you are.”
God, I wanted another drink. “So, if I do well, they’ll work harder to fix my image?”
“Yes.”
“What about the endorsement?”
“I have some messages from them, but I’ve been putting them off. Let’s wait until tomorrow to see what the team does. Okay?”
“Yep.” I scrubbed my hands over my face.
She stood. “Same rules, Tucker. No women, no booze, no bad press. One more night.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “No worries about that. I’ll be a fucking monk tonight.” Maybe forever, I thought.
“So, are you ready? We can ride together to the meeting.”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let me change.” I figured the better I looked, the more likely they’d feel good about my ability to throw the ball. I put on slacks and a button shirt. I combed my hair back. I still looked like shit, but that was emotional chaos. There was nothing I could do about that.
An hour later, Lauren and I were let into the home office of the owner’s beach home out near Newport Beach.
“Tucker,” JT Carson, the team owner, greeted me while extending his hand.
“Mr. Carson. Good to see you. You remember my agent.”
He shook my hand then Lauren’s. “Yes.”
I greeted the coach and the manager as well. I felt like a kid in school being sent to the principal’s office.
“I don’t know how you do it, kid, but you got yourself in a mess of things again,” the manager, Curly Appen said.
I tried to smile affably. The truth was, as awkward and embarrassed as I’d felt when Emma had me pose, I felt a million times that now as I imagined what these men were thinking. They were wondering how I could do such a boneheaded thing.
They were probably trying not to laugh, but as I searched their faces, I realized they were grim. That was even worse. This wasn’t funny to them. This was business. I was potentially costing them millions. I was well and truly fucked.
“Listen, we all know it’s tough to keep your dick in your pants when you’re young and strong, but really Tucker…” Coach Chambers said.
“It wasn’t like that,” I said, feebly.
“So, you fell for this woman, huh?” JT said.
My heart felt like a rock in my chest. “Yes, sir. I was abiding by the rules, but…” What did I say after that?
“She’s an artist,” Lauren said. “And Tucker, wanting to help the woman he fell for, bought a painting and agreed to model for her.”
“What did you think would happen, son?” JT said. “She was going to paint you so you’d still have your ass out there.”
I wasn’t thinking. “I…ah…all I was thinking was about her.”
The men looked at each other. I wished I could read minds.
“Is this true that she duped you?” Curly asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know how else to see it. She took the photos. She’s the only one that had them.”
“How’s the training?” Coach Chambers asked. “That’s the big thing here. Were you sidetracked by a woman in that too?”
“No sir. I’m strong.”
“Mason McLean has sent you reports, Coach Chambers,” Lauren said. “I think they show Tucker’s been diligent and serious in his training and is stronger than ever.”
“I guess we’ll see that tomorrow,” Coach said.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’d like to have a statement put out from the team’s publicity department,” Lauren said. “The public needs to know the team supports him.”
“We need to see that he’s back to form,” Curly said.
“The fans will support him,” she said. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know this could be a good thing. How many of your female, and some male, fans have made this photo the background on their phone or computer? How many are looking at that photo and fantasizing about having Tucker McLean?”
I winced. I didn’t need these men thinking about fans masturbating to me.
“The fans will sympathize with him. They’ll hate the woman who broke his heart for money. They’ll be angry at the team that cuts him for falling in love.”
Lauren was laying it on a bit thick, but I could see JT mulling it over. “Let’s see how tomorrow morning goes. We’ll have a draft statement ready, and if he looks good, we’ll release it.”
For the first time, since Mason shoved the photos in my face, I felt the first sign of hope that my life wasn’t completely destroyed.
“But, Tucker, you better be good tomorrow. Better than good. Before, you were only fighting for your position, now you’re fighting for your job and your place on our team. In this day and age, we can’t have a player that looks like he uses women.” JT looked at Lauren. “And you better be careful about going after that woman. It could backfire, and he’d look like a fucking asshole ruining a woman’s life.”
“I have no concerns about that,” Laurent said.
I glared at her, wanting her to temper her statement.
“This woman hurt the home-town hero. Eden Lake won’t put up with that.”
“Eden Lake is Nowheresville,” Curly said.
“Not to many in southern California who spend millions a year there enjoying the outdoors. They’ll hear all about Tucker and how their golden boy was wronged, not just by a woman, but by the team.”
“Lauren,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment. I looked up at JT because really, he was the one I needed to convince. “I’m not out to ruin her. I just want to play ball. Physically, I’m ready, which I’ll prove to you tomorrow. As far as the photos, that was poor judgement based on an emotional attachment to the woman. But that’s over. The team has all my attention. All my focus.”
“Good. Now, go get some rest. We’ll see you at the field tomorrow, early,” JT said.
I stood, shook their hands, and then left with Lauren. On the ride back, I wallowed in my predicament.
“It’s going to be fine, Tucker,” Lauren said. “If you play well, they won’t care what you did - or do - to that woman. Prove to them you can take them to the Super Bowl, and you can get a harem if you want.”
I glanced over at her.
“What?” she asked.
“I really did love her,” I said. “This isn’t a cover story or a game.”
“It is a game, Tucker. It’s football. It’s making sure your fans and the te
am fans will back you, making it impossible for the team to cut you simply because you can’t keep your dick in your pants. It has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with perception.”
I looked out the window, hating that the game I loved to play had such twisted rules around it.
“Unless you want to quit. Is that what you want?”
“No. I want to play football. That’s all. I don’t want the bullshit.”
She laughed. “Then stop stepping in it.”
It was late when I finally called Mason, but he was up, waiting for my call.
“They haven’t cut me yet,” I said.
“Is that a possibility?”
“They’re waiting to see how I practice tomorrow. I guess if I do well, I’ll be worth the embarrassment.” I lay back on my bed, feeling so fucking tired.
“You’re ready, Tucker. Believe it.”
I felt strong, physically, but I knew I’d have to push through the emotional turmoil and the stress.
“If I do well, they’re going to skewer Emma,” I said, unable to stop feeling guilt about it, even though I knew she brought this on herself. “They’ll have a statement ready that will say she used me for money.”
He sighed. “That’s fucked, but…she should have considered that when she sold the pictures.”
“She did sell them, didn’t she?” I asked. There was something about this whole thing that felt off. They were her photos, so how else could they have gotten out? And yet, I still found it hard to believe she’d do such a thing.
“The article doesn’t say where they came from, but you said they were hers.”
“They were.”
“Then, that’s the answer. Get some rest, Tucker. Just think about saving your ass tomorrow. We can deal with Emma later.”
I heeded Mason’s advice. The next day, I was at the field early, warming up. Lauren came, as did JT, Curly and Coach. I pushed everything but football away, and focused on being the best athlete I could be. I beat all my previous sprint times and I threw further and, even better, with improved accuracy. Each training exercise, I felt stronger and more confident.
