The Jock and the Geek (Gone Geek Book 3)

by Sidney Bristol

  He approached the basket and shot from the three point line.

  The ball sailed toward the hoop, but fell a few inches short. A lot like his life as of late.

  “Almost.” Sam snatched the ball and tossed it back.

  He’d been so engrossed in his thoughts that he’d missed her walking barefoot to the basket.

  Oliver bent and picked up the ball.

  Maybe this had started as a charade, but what he felt for her was real. Their teamwork was also real. If they could salvage something out of this disaster, maybe they could have a chance. He wanted that.

  “Come on, Jocky McJockerson, stop playing around.” Sam grinned at him.

  He had her in his corner. That was worth something.

  Samantha finished steaming her dress for the press conference. After tomorrow, she’d never be able to look at it without thinking about…this mess. The ring on her finger felt heavier, probably from the weight of her lies.

  Everything was going according to plan, and her life was falling apart.

  Dad wasn’t talking to her.

  Mom wouldn’t stop talking over her.

  And Lily was, well, one minute she would yell and the next give Sam the cold shoulder.

  At least Rashae was in her corner.

  And Oliver.

  Sam’s chest tightened at the thought of him. He’d said he might drop by after work, but given the extra work they’d created, who knew when that would be? If it got too late, he’d likely just go home. And she’d sit up all night wondering where she was.

  This was such a disaster.

  Nothing about what she felt for him was simple. There were years of history between them. Missed opportunities, things she wished could have been done differently. Would they ever get a chance to do this right?

  Part of her wanted to close the chapter on this drama and just leave. Go somewhere no one would care about the scandal and live a new life. But that meant saying goodbye to her family. And Oliver.

  She wasn’t ready to do that. Not over a few pictures.

  Yes, she would want to take a step back once tomorrow was over and they’d presented the fictional version of events. But that was to reassess. Really figure out who they were, if this—between them—would work. It wasn’t a full stop. Or maybe it should be?

  When she was with Oliver she lost sight of the real world and all she saw was him. That couldn’t be healthy.

  Her phone rang and she snatched it up, recognizing Oliver’s contact at a glance.

  “Hi,” she said before she could think better of things.

  “Hey, I know it’s late and—”

  “I don’t care,” she blurted. Sam cleared her throat. “I mean, it would just be nice to see a friendly face before tomorrow. You know?”

  “Yeah. Okay. You eaten?”

  “I made some pasta. There’s leftovers if you want some.” Lie. She’d made more than she needed because she was thinking about him.

  “If you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  “So, I texted Kaily, just to say hi, and she gave me a recommendation for a little bed and breakfast. She said they’re very private, and this time of year they have a lot of availability.”

  “That would be great. Did you run it by Dad?”

  “I asked, but didn’t get an answer. I…packed a few bags already. Figured I’d be ready for anything.”

  Sam sighed, so grateful to Oliver’s opportunistic mindset.

  “You can tell me that’s too much,” he said.

  “No, truth is, I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  “Well, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “It takes longer than that to get here.”

  “Yeah, but I was halfway to you when I realized how late it was.”

  Sam chuckled and gave him the access code for the garage behind the brownstone. It was more convenient and private this way, and since she didn’t have a car, there was a reserved spot just waiting for him.

  She did a quick pick-up in her bedroom before heading down to the back door to let Oliver—and all his luggage—into the house. He dumped it all on the love seat closest to the door and pulled her in for a tight squeeze.

  It’d only been a few hours since she’d last seen him. She still needed this—his touch and support—so badly. After tomorrow, things would get better. They could focus on the who and why, not just reacting.

  Oliver set her back on her feet and pushed his fingers through her hair, smoothing the stray strands aside.

  Sam reheated his dinner, and they sat across from each other, talking like any other couple. It was…nice. Later, falling asleep in his arms was better. Maybe there was something worth salvaging between them. After everything blew over.

  11.

  Oliver held Sam’s cold, clammy hand in his. Her smile was screwed on so tight she had dimples. She looked more like a doll than the woman he’d held last night.

  What a difference a few days could make.

  He’d imagined being with Sam before. Free to hold her hand. Kiss her. Treat her like a lady. All with eyes on them. It hadn’t been anything like this. Last night, in their private moments, that was what he wanted. This? The public spectacle of it all? He hated it.

  In their rush to perpetuate the idea of a whirlwind romance kept extra hush-hush, they’d spent the last thirty-six hours building a family narrative that would support the enormous lie they were spoon-feeding the public.

  He hated the word narrative. Such a strange word to be so violently opposed to, and yet, if one more person in the Grant family said it, Oliver was going to do…something.

  Oliver sucked down a deep breath and managed not to grimace at the cameras pointed their way. He was a behind-the-scenes guy. At least he wasn’t the one talking. Timothy Grant was making the official statement a foot away, but all eyes were on Samantha and Oliver. He could feel the stares, the looks, the weight of judgment. In this town, people knew him by his father’s reputation. How much was being with him hurting Sam’s chances of a better career? Of having options to do what she wanted?

  He had to give it to her though; she’d staged this announcement so very well. From the flowers to her pretty white dress and his khaki suit, she’d controlled the story down to the detail. Even the way he held her hand was a better way to show off the family ring. They were a picture-ready couple, selling the public on a romance that only existed in his head. So far.

  There’d been moments the last few days, over dinner, holding her in the dark, when he saw glimpses of what they could be. Of what he wanted for them. But this was not it.

  Just a few more seconds…

  They’d timed the statement to the letter, so it would make a convenient sound byte for news outlets. The more they were able to minimize things, the better. At least one online site was running the photographs as of last night, and by the time the Secretary’s statement went public, they’d be everywhere.

  “Thank you for your discretion.” Timothy gave his signature wave, pivoted, and was ushered away by the rest of the staff.

  Most of the people in the office weren’t even aware this was a hoax. There were a few speculations out there that had this display pegged for what it was, but not many.

  Sam amped up her smile. He counted to five, just long enough to allow for a photo-op, then led his fiancée after her mother and father.

  “Is the car packed?” Sam asked under her breath.

  “Ready and waiting.”

  The Secretary hadn’t yet signed off on that. Too much was up in the air for him to worry about the comfort of his errant daughter.

  Oliver gritted his teeth at those words.

  Timothy was a kind man with a big heart, but he wasn’t perfect. The whole family was hurting, well, except for Rashae. She’d bombarded him with texts he hadn’t answered, because—what did he say?

  I’m madly in love with your sister, but our engagement is fake. Please don’t tell anyone?

  He expected
Rashae to crash-land on the scene in a few more days if someone didn’t tell her what was going on. He couldn’t, and he was fairly certain Sam hadn’t been truthful with her either. Rashae would see straight through him. They’d been friends for too long. Besides, he’d slipped up in the last couple of years. Rashae had caught him staring. Her pointed questions had become hard to avoid. He couldn’t feed her one lie when she’d been around for at least part of the truth.

  The family entered the Grant home through the garden, leaving the Secret Service to corral the reporters clamoring for more information. A sex scandal in the news was going to get a lot of eyes and everyone wanted details.

  Sam let go of him as soon as the door shut and shook out her hands.

  Helen reached for Sam, her eyes searching her youngest daughter’s face.

  “How are you?” she asked quietly.

  “Good. That went about as well as we could have hoped for.” Sam was in PR mode. She wore the professional veneer like a coat of armor, protecting herself. He hated this whole shit storm. It was his fault, all of it.

  If he’d never come clean to Sam, they wouldn’t have been in that park. There wouldn’t be any pictures to show off.

  “I have to head to the office. Oliver?” Timothy picked up his briefcase and phone.

  “Yes, sir…” Oliver glanced from Timothy to Sam.

  “Dad, the plan was—”

  “We’ve done this song and dance. It’s time for me to get back to real work.” Timothy’s voice resonated off the vaulted ceiling, his volume rising.

  Sam’s eyes widened, and her back straightened a tiny bit more.

  “I understand,” she said in a soft voice.

  Oliver stared at his boss, the man he’d come to care for like a father, and he didn’t know him. This wasn’t right. Yes, they were all hurting from the spectacle Oliver had created, but Sam shouldn’t take the blame.

  “Oliver?” Timothy turned and stalked out of the room.

  Oliver glanced at his boss’ back, grimacing. He needed to be with Sam, but he also needed to be at the office. They had a lot to do, and a lot of it was also his fault.

  He crossed to Sam and squeezed her hand.

  “See you tonight?” He kissed her cheek instead of the mask she was hiding behind. Maybe tonight they’d get some down time together. Maybe tonight they could reconnect, get on the same page the way they had last night. Find something to smile about.

  Sam nodded.

  Oliver picked up his phone from the desk where they’d all left them for the official statement, and followed Timothy out to the car. Because of the threat to the Secretary’s family, they had more Secret Service on hand than usual besides the normal faces.

  He slid into the SUV across from Timothy and buckled in. The Secretary was already flipping through a briefing, no doubt trying to get a handle on their next national crisis. Trade negotiations with the European Union were rocky, so it was understandable that the Secretary would want to be on the ball. But this was his daughter.

  “Can I say something, sir?” Oliver tapped his phone on his knee.

  “If it’s about this three ring circus, no.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Oliver.” Timothy glanced up and pulled his reading glasses off. “I advise you to think through what you want to say very carefully.”

  The man staring at him was not the Secretary.

  He was a father.

  A very angry father.

  Oliver swallowed his words and slid a little farther down in his seat.

  And here he’d thought he could never fuck up to the epic levels of his father. Oliver was pretty sure he’d just blown through those.

  “Have you seen my phone?” Samantha tapped the surface of the antique writing desk.

  She was certain she’d left it with the others, but it wasn’t there anymore. Had she picked it up and moved it? Was it in her pocket?

  Dear lord, if it’d gone off during the announcement…

  “Here it is.” Lily held the phone in her hand, the clutch case folded back.

  Why did Lily have her phone?

  Sam crossed to the double doors that led out of the sun drenched sitting room and grasped the phone. Lily didn’t let it go.

  “Happy now?” Lily’s tone was frosty.

  “The last thing I am is happy.” Sam tugged the phone from her sister’s grasp and stepped into the short hallway that led to the rest of the first floor.

  Why had Lily been on her phone?

  Sam had a sick feeling.

  “Why Oliver?” Lily asked.

  Sam swiped her thumb over the screen. She needed to go back to having a lock on it.

  The screen lit up with the Monster-Go app already activated.

  What could she possibly have wanted inside the game?

  “Sam?” Lily took a step closer, her heels clicking on the floor.

  “I didn’t pick him. It just happened.” Sam glanced at her sister then clicked the Monster Squad icon in the bottom center of her screen.

  A scroll unfolded…revealing nothing.

  Not her starred fighting monsters. Not the ones she’d earmarked to evolve or power up. Not even her least powerful catches that would inevitably be traded in for more experience points and leveling up credit.

  Nothing.

  “Lily…”

  “That stupid game caused all of this.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest. “I know what you were doing in that park. My assistant’s son goes out there all the time. I know what you were doing there.”

  Sam stared at her sister.

  “You traded in all of my monsters,” she said.

  “Yes, I did. Maybe now instead of playing that dumb game you’ll figure out your life and stop making a mess for everyone else to deal with.”

  “Figure out…mess…really? Is that what you think?”

  “If it wasn’t because of this ridiculous game, you and Oliver wouldn’t have been in that park. You wouldn’t have been together.”

  “And you think he’d be with you?”

  “At least I have a job. At least I’m doing something with my life.” Lily tipped her chin up, nose in the air. She’d always fought dirty when she didn’t get her way. Now was no different.

  There was no winning with Lily.

  Oliver had chosen Sam.

  Not Lily.

  Not ever.

  “It’s not all a lie,” Sam said. “Oliver and I have feelings for each other. We have dated before.”

  “Please. Don’t feed me that again. He wouldn’t date you. You’re not his type.” Lily rolled her eyes.

  “Girls.” Their mother stood at the end of the short hall, brow creased, lips pressed tightly together.

  “Whatever. I have actual work to do.” Lily stalked out, brushing past their mother.

  Sam leaned against the wall and pressed her phone to her chest.

  Her sister hated her.

  Her father was disgusted by her.

  Her mother was hurt.

  And Oliver…

  The family ring felt like a hot brand against her skin.

  She was a no-good, rotten liar. Everything she’d always tried not to be, and now…here she was.

  “Sam? Oh, my baby.”

  She sniffled and let her mother pull her in for a hug. It was stupid to let Lily get under her skin, but in a matter of moments she’d destroyed all of Sam’s progress, everything she’d worked on for weeks instead of spiraling into depression. Maybe that would have been the better way to go. If she hadn’t showered and smelled like bed-funk, Oliver would have stayed away. They’d never have had the moment on the balcony, she’d never have known, and this disaster wouldn’t have happened.

  Wait…

  “Mom?” Sam pulled back, blinking and swiping at her cheeks.

  “What is it?”

  “Mom, who was around us at the dinner when you told me about Oliver’s dad? And the pictures? Who was around when I asked about them?” She stared at her moth
er, the cogs working at last.

  “I…don’t know.”

  “Do the security tapes go back that far? It hasn’t made sense, why there’d be someone following us. But what if someone heard us? Heard me? And they found out about the pictures?”

  Helen’s lips worked soundlessly, her eyes large.

  “We’ve been so busy reacting, we haven’t been trying to figure out who and why.” Sam jabbed at her phone.

  Her father might not want to talk to her, but his head of security would. This was on Sam to fix. She’d fucked it all up, and now, one way or another, she was going to figure it out. Maybe then her father and everyone else could forgive her.

  “Anything?” Sophia bit the end of her pen.

  “Nothing,” her assistant replied.

  “Shit.”

  Sophia had expected some sort of reply, a counter offer even, but the complete silence from the Secretary of State’s office was unexpected. She’d released four of the least incriminating images to show how serious they were about the threat, and still nothing. Oh, she’d seen the public statement about the couple’s supposed engagement, but she wasn’t buying that for a second.

  “Send them. Not all of them, hold the most explicit ones back, the ones marked three. Send all of the ones and twos.”

  Sophia had gambled on the conservative Secretary doing anything and everything to avoid a reputation-tarnishing scandal. The Americans were funny about sex that way.

  Well, if he didn’t want his daughter’s body all over the media for public consumption, he’d have to come around to their way of thinking. And if he didn’t, well, there were always other methods they could resort to.

  12.

  Oliver had to circle the block around Samantha’s home three times before he could get into the garage. The only good thing about it was he got to hit the waystation twice while waiting for the light to turn green.

  The long day wore on him, both because there’d been twelfth hour maneuvering on the part of the EU, and because the office atmosphere was downright hostile. Half the staff wouldn’t make eye contact with him, the rest were whispering, and then there was the Secretary. This whole ruse was going to go up in smoke if he couldn’t make amends with his boss.