Changing the Play

by Julia Blake

  All of the righteous journalist bluster rushed from Nick and Mindy like deflating balloons. They even looked sheepish.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned that,” said Nick quietly.

  “No, you shouldn’t have. But I’m glad to know what you both think of me and of my job.” Her voice was cold, hard marble.

  “I don’t want this to come between us,” he said.

  She gave full force to the part of her that knew she was an idiot for thinking a relationship with Nick could work. “Too late.”

  “Wait, what?” Mindy asked, turning to Chris.

  “They’re dating,” said the photographer who had been looking on silently the entire time. “I thought you knew.”

  “What?” Mindy practically shouted. “I knew you were flirting, but what the hell, Nick?”

  This was ridiculous. She didn’t need to stand here, hashing out her relationship—or the tatters of it—with a producer who was staring at Nick like he’d grown a second head.

  “Do what you want,” Rachel said. “You’re going to anyway.”

  She turned on her heel, but Nick grabbed for her. His hand circled her wrist, holding her firm. “Don’t walk away.”

  She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Watch me.”

  She tugged her arm away, but he held her fast.

  “I need you.”

  The words sliced through her. Not I love you. Not the same thing.

  He’d broken them. He’d shown her such a lack of respect, questioning her intentions and morals when it came to her clients, that she didn’t think she could ever come back from that. It was too big a hurdle.

  Suddenly she became acutely aware of her surroundings. They were midfight on a street corner with Kevin, Mindy, Chris, and a couple of curious bystanders. She wanted her controlled life back. It was easy, drama-free, and devoid of heartache because no man ever got close enough to do any damage. Just the way she liked it.

  She kept her voice frigid as she drew back to hit him hard with a verbal punch. “It takes more than a few nights and some Chinese food to win me over, Nick. I don’t need you.”

  He dropped her hand like she’d burned him. It was done. She’d chosen her roster of clients over him. There was no going back.

  This is the last time he’s going to touch me.

  She swallowed, her heart constricting, and marched straight over to Kevin, who was now standing and looking absolutely devastated.

  “Ms. Pollard—”

  She choked down the bile rising in her throat. “Let’s go. I’ll drop you at home.”

  The young man shed his mic and shoved it into Chris’s outstretched hand. She was starting to lose it, so she turned on her heel and strode away as quick as she could without breaking into a sprint.

  Kevin’s steps fell heavy behind her as he jogged to catch up. He was silent as they climbed into the rented Cadillac.

  It wasn’t until they’d driven around the corner that Kevin finally spoke. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Pollard. I didn’t mean to ruin things between you and Mr. Ruben.”

  She smiled weakly at the formality with which he now said Nick’s name. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. And I don’t want you thinking that your panic attack is your fault either. You did really well today. Dr. Liu would be proud. You’ll have to tell him the next time you go.”

  “Next Monday,” Kevin supplied.

  “Right. Next Monday.”

  She flexed her fingers around the steering wheel, trying to focus her attention on the road and the way that the leather felt under her hands. Anything to take off the creeping sadness that lurked at the edge of her mind.

  It wasn’t worth it. Nick wasn’t worth it.

  But there was the part of her that couldn’t forget that he was the only man she’d ever crossed the line between work and play for. The only one she’d ever really felt a connection with. And now he’d gone and stomped all over that.

  They were stopped at a light under the Bruckner Expressway when Kevin spoke again. “I’m really sorry about your coat too. I think we both sat in some mud.”

  Tears began to trickle down her face. As soon as the light turned green, she pulled over ahead of a tiny car wash with a line of cabbies in their black town cars stretching down the block. She killed the engine and sat for a moment, not moving. It wasn’t until Kevin put his hand on her back and began to rub it just like she had for him that she let her forehead fall against the steering wheel and started to sob.

  Chapter 19

  The shock of watching Rachel walk away had left Nick numb.

  Until that moment, he hadn’t understood just how much she mattered. She pushed him, challenged him, and made him think about all of the things he wanted to be. She scared away some of the demons that said he wasn’t good enough. She believed in him. Now the incredible woman who gave him all of that was walking away.

  “Nick,” he heard Mindy say as Rachel turned the corner and disappeared. He tore his gaze away and looked as his producer. Her expression was a sickening mix of disappointment and disgust.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” he said.

  “You were dating Rachel Pollard? Our source? Are you insane?”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “If you’re going to lecture me, save it. You can’t come up with anything worse than what’s going through my head right now.”

  “I’ll give it a shot,” she said, hands on her hips. “You know dating her compromises your ability to make decisions about this story. How am I supposed to believe you’ve considered every angle?”

  “I have. Trust me. Nothing about my relationship with Rachel negatively affects this story.”

  “So you’re telling me you’re totally unbiased.”

  “Yes,” he said, grinding out the word between clenched teeth.

  She stared at him hard. “Then tell me to rush the piece to air tonight.”

  The urge to vomit overwhelmed him, and his knees actually shook. Putting that story on air would end everything. Rachel would see it as the ultimate betrayal—not of her but of her client. And, despite what he’d argued, she was probably right. The piece would drop Kevin dramatically in the draft, if not kill his chances entirely.

  But there was no way he could hold the story back either. He’d be committing a serious journalistic sin. Rachel was lying to teams by omission. This was information a player needed to disclose in interviews when asked about his mental and physical health. He had to report it out.

  He’d always known that agents would do anything to close a deal, but somehow he hadn’t thought her capable of lying like this. The fact that she said she did it all in the name of Kevin’s future and financial security didn’t change that it was wrong.

  He knew the decision he should make, but it still cost him something to ask Chris, “How much of that did you get on camera?”

  “All of it.” The photog frowned. “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Still, if you need to go after her—”

  “I need to get back to work.” It wasn’t just his job on the line. It was Mindy’s and Chris’s too. If Rachel was loyal to her clients, he was loyal to his coworkers.

  “Call the coordinating producer,” he said, rolling his shoulders like a boxer loosening up for a fight. “Tell them to clear a slot in prime time.”

  Mindy couldn’t fight her smile as she nodded and pulled out her phone. At least one of them was happy.

  “Aaron is working tonight. He’ll make room,” she said.

  “Tell him five minutes. At least. And he’s going to want to tease the hell out of this. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

  His producer put a hand on his arm as she hit the call button on her phone’s screen. “This story’s going to
be great. Save-us-from-layoffs great.” She dipped her head, and he could hear Aaron answering before Mindy cut him off. “Look, I know you’re in the afternoon editorial meeting, but we’ve got an exclusive. Kevin Loder’s been avoiding the media because he has anxiety. He gets panic attacks.”

  His heart rate ratcheted up a few beats while Mindy paused.

  “No, you don’t understand. We’ve got it on camera,” she said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

  Nick squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, trying his hardest to fight the feeling that he was letting everything slip away. When he opened them again, he saw Chris shaking his head.

  “You sure you want to do this?” the photog asked.

  “It’s already done.”

  “Maybe you can fix this when it all blows over,” Chris offered.

  Anger gripped him. How the hell was he going to fix it? He’d put himself out there for Rachel, and she’d fought him every step of the way. He’d pushed and prodded and basically begged her to give him a chance to prove he wasn’t the jerk who ignored her in high school or the playboy in the papers. And now everything was fucked-up.

  “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “It was stupid to think that it’d work anyway. Let’s get this story cut.”

  Mindy hung up and whirled around. “Aaron is holding edit bay three for us. He wants to see the panic attack footage as soon as we get back to the station. Chris, how long is that going to take?”

  Chris looked up, doing mental calculations. “Jump on the Willis Avenue Bridge and take Second Avenue down? We’ll probably be there in less than thirty minutes if we beat the afternoon rush.”

  “Let’s go,” Mindy said.

  They piled into the NYSN truck, pausing only to secure equipment. The entire time, Mindy chatted away. Her excitement was infectious, and Nick couldn’t help starting to feel just a little anticipation about not only getting the interview of the NFL preseason but also the scoop of the year.

  “This is going to be great, Nick,” said Mindy. “I can just feel it.”

  He could too, even if it made him a little sick. He’d traded the woman he was falling for for the jobs of three people desperately clinging to a station willing to push them out into the cold.

  He’d get over her—he had to—but first, he had to figure out how to stop the slicing pain cutting through his chest.

  RACHEL SAT at her desk surrounded by Kevin, his parents, his sister, Emma, and Rob. The office was silent as Nick wrapped up his report with an on-set interview anchored by the face of NYSN, Gary Truvoli. The network only brought Gary out of semiretirement for the biggest stories—the ones that needed a degree of gravitas. The fact that they’d rolled him out for this one told Rachel everything she needed to know. Not only did the network think that the panic attack video was damning and explosive, there’d be follow-up stories and discussion. Kevin’s anxiety would be ripped apart, and every aspect of him would be examined, from his fitness to his mental toughness. Already, NYSN had teased another appearance by Nick at the top of the hour. He was having his moment in the sun while Kevin’s world was collapsing around him.

  Rob clapped his hands together, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “We won’t lie to you. This is bad.”

  The Loders exchanged glances. “How bad?” Marcus asked.

  “Bad enough that we’re doing serious damage control,” said Rachel. “Emma Robbins is an agent who specializes in PR and crisis management. She’s going to help us create a plan for rehabbing Kevin’s image.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Catherine. “Kevin hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  Emma pushed off the low bookshelf she’d been sitting on and strode into the center of the room. “That’s not how the media is going to see this. Reporters, anchors, and commentators across the country are going to go after Kevin pretty hard. He has a completely clean criminal record, and there have never been any rumors of recreational or performance-enhancing drug use, so that’s good. But they’re going to question his character.”

  Catherine wrung her hands. “They’re saying such terrible things about him, like he lied. He’s just a kid. He’s my baby.”

  “I’ll be honest with you, none of that matters,” said Emma, crossing her arms over her chest. “Kevin’s a public figure. As far as the media’s concerned, he’s fair game. You need to be ready for this story to get bigger and bigger.”

  Rachel folded her hands on her desk and tried to keep her voice calm. “Emma is going to book you on every national morning show. We’re going to saturate the market and turn public opinion toward you rather than against you. We’ve got to win sympathy back.”

  “What’s the angle?” Rob asked.

  “Kevin tells the truth,” said Emma. “We’ve had Nathan and Louise pull some numbers. About forty million Americans over the age of eighteen suffer from anxiety. That’s about eighteen percent of the population. We turn this around. Kevin comes out as an advocate for all of those people.”

  “Kevin, do you think you can do that?” Rachel asked.

  “Yeah.” He nodded with more conviction as his sister squeezed his knee. “Yes, I can. I want to.”

  Catherine reached across and squeezed her son’s hand. “Will he have to go on NYSN?”

  “No,” Rachel said before anyone else could respond. “That’ll be the one interview he doesn’t do until the draft is over. They don’t get to capitalize on this any more than they already are.”

  Emma looked as though she was about to say something until Rachel caught her eye. Like a good friend, Emma moved on, simply saying, “There will be another scandal soon, and all of this will blow over. The media has the attention span of a cocker spaniel.”

  That might be true, but NFL scouts had notoriously long memories. Kevin’s draft status was shot. Now that the interview was on air, she’d hit the phones, working all of her contacts and pulling every favor she had to figure out how to salvage Kevin’s career before it had even started.

  At least that’d keep her mind off Nick.

  Her stomach flipped at the thought of him. She’d allowed herself a few minutes of self-pity, crying over the steering wheel. Then she’d pulled herself together, sworn Kevin to secrecy, and driven them back to Image. Catherine and Marcus—both mercifully off from work that day—had joined them in her office an hour later, and they’d been in strategy meetings ever since. Strategizing about what exactly they hadn’t known until they’d watched Nick’s story at the top of the seven p.m. broadcast of Sports Desk.

  The piece had been bad, but not as bad as it could’ve been. Nick and Mindy didn’t portray Kevin as duplicitous or devious. Instead, he came across as a young man who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time as a kid. Now, as an adult, he was still paying for it.

  “We have a statement ready to go,” Emma said, pulling her attention back to the situation at hand. “We’ll issue it as soon as Kevin gives us the okay.”

  Catherine and Marcus glanced at each other, but Kevin fixed her with a calm stare. Totally self-possessed, he nodded once. “I’ll read it right now. Then I want to prep for those interviews tomorrow morning.”

  That right there was the reason Kevin was going to make a great wide receiver, but more important why he was already turning into a great man. He accepted reality and the responsibility that went with it.

  “Rachel,” Rob said, inclining his head toward the door.

  She gave the Loders a reassuring smile. “Emma will walk you through the statement, then we’re going to bring one of our assistants, Louise Gardner, in to help with some interview prep.”

  She followed Rob out the door, hustling to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t stop until they got to his office. It was inarguably the best on the floor, with its sweeping view all the way downtown to the Freedom Tower. It was also twice the size of any other agents’ off
ice and a constant source of amusement among the female staff members.

  What do you think he’s compensating for?

  Rob shut the door behind them. Then he opened the blinds that normally obscured the view of anyone on the outside trying to look in. She was going to get dressed down, and her boss wanted anyone who happened to walk by to be able to see it.

  Rachel braced herself for the worst. It came. Fast.

  “How the fuck did this fucking happen?” he yelled, a little bit of spittle flying out of his mouth and onto his suede jacket.

  “We knew this was a risk going into the interview,” she said.

  “So why did you let him interview? You saw the kid,” Rob screamed, his arm flinging out in the direction of her office. “He had a fucking meltdown, crying like a little girl in the middle of the street. On camera!”

  “If crying like a girl is meant to imply—”

  “Don’t you dare pull your feminist, women’s rights bullshit on me. Pro athletes are allowed to cry in two situations. When they lose a playoff game in a heartbreaker or when they’re giving their damn coach’s eulogy at his funeral.”

  “If that’s your attitude, we might as well give up on Kevin now.”

  “I’m ready to throw you, Kevin Loder, and his parents out of the building right now!”

  She held her chin high and arched an eyebrow. “That would be one of the stupidest things you could do.”

  Rob’s bluster deflated a little bit. “I know that. I’m mad, but I’m not an idiot. Even if you granted that interview, you’re still fucking good at your job.”

  Feeling the power shift back her way a little bit, she said, “It was an interview you pushed for.”

  Rob’s eyes narrowed. “But I didn’t tell you to let him freak out on camera. The story isn’t even twenty minutes old, and my phone’s already blowing up. In an hour, it’s going to be trending on Twitter. This goes way beyond NYSN and the tristate area.”