“I hope it’s good news,” he chuckles.
“It is,” I hesitate. “But it’s something I should have told you a while ago.” I take a deep breath. “I’m… involved with Mason Robichaud. The linebacker.”
“Involved?” Daddy repeats. “Does that mean romantically?”
“Yes, it does,” I say softly. “And it’s serious.”
“I see. How long has this been going on?”
“Almost a year,” I lie. “And… well, it’s not public knowledge yet, but we’re engaged.”
The line is silent for a moment.
“Well,” Daddy finally says. “Congratulations.” His voice seems off, but that might just be the ALS. “I hope I’m going to get to meet him before the actual wedding.”
“Of course you will,” I say hastily. Because there isn’t going to be a wedding. But at his words, I realize I probably am going to have to introduce them. After all, as far as my father knows, Mason and I will be engaged for the next year. It would be incredibly strange not to introduce them. I can’t hurt my father’s feelings like that. Even if the whole thing is a lie.
“Have you set a date yet?”
“No. And it won’t be for a while. At least a year.” My stomach does a nervous little flip. That disappointed tone in his voice is still there. “Mason just got signed to the Springville Rockets, Daddy. We were hoping you could come for one of the first games of the season. I’m sure Mason can get the two of us tickets. That way you could meet him and see him play.”
“Well, now, that would be nice,” he says mildly. “I’d like that.”
“Daddy,” I blurt out. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about this before. I was just… well, I just didn’t know how to.”
“Princess. Why wouldn’t you feel comfortable telling me you’re seeing someone?” my father asks.
“Well…” I trail off. I’m fumbling for an explanation that isn’t coming. On the other end of the line, the silence is deafening.
Then, amazingly, the perfect excuse hits me.
“It’s just that I thought maybe you wouldn’t approve of Mason, Daddy,” I murmur. “Because he’s a recovering alcoholic, and all.”
“Oh. Is that what it is,” he chuckles. His voice finally warms up, until he sounds like my father again. “Honey, I’m not gonna lie. No one actually wants their daughter to get involved with someone with an alcohol problem. But if he’s really off the sauce for good, then I can’t judge him for that.” His tone is serious, sincere. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life. Don’t you think?”
“Yes,” I nod. “Yes, I do.”
“I do wish you’d told me sooner,” he continues. “You know all I want is for you to be happy. But that’s all in the past now. So. Engaged, eh? That’s quite a thing, Anna Banana.”
Hearing his nickname for me causes my lungs to stop constricting, and I let out a little breath of relief. “It’s not out in the press yet, Daddy. But it will be in a day or two,” I explain. “I wanted to call you first to make sure you didn’t find out by reading it in the paper. The media are kind of like vultures about this stuff, I’m learning.”
The media. Which includes me. I’m one of the vultures.
Suddenly, I feel absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed by everything that’s happened the past couple of days. And from what Mason says, it’s just going to get worse.
“If you’re happy, Princess, I’m happy,” he tells me. “That’s all that matters.”
“I’m happy,” I say.
So why do I sound so miserable?
18
Anna
Mason’s publicity people have planned a very public outing for the two of us to officially come out as an engaged couple. We’re going to a charity benefit, the day after the news breaks that he’s been signed to the Springville Rockets. It’s for a local children’s hospital, Southshore, that the quarterback for the Rockets does volunteer work and fundraising for.
At the benefit, I will be spotted wearing my engagement ring. And, per the contract, we will appear very much in love, in full view of the paparazzi.
It’s the understatement of the year to say I’m nervous about this.
Since the event is formal, I’m sent to a high-end shop to pick out a dress, and then to one of the most exclusive salons in town to have my hair and makeup done. It’s very last-minute, but fortunately I find a dress that looks good on me and fits well without too much trouble. It’s a deep red velvet gown with a plunging neckline. Thankfully, the neck is not quite low enough to for me to worry that the girls will fall out if I lean over. The dress is simple enough that I elect to keep my jewelry simple, too. When I take it to the stylist at the salon, she opts to arrange my hair in a fairly low-key but elegant braided updo. My makeup is on the natural side, and the manicurist chooses a color for my nails that’s complementary to the dress.
After my hair and makeup session, I head back home with the dress in a big box loaded into the trunk of my car. Harriet helps me get ready, and thankfully keeps her thoughts to herself about my arrangement with Mason.
I’m just trying to decide between two different pairs of shoes when the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it.” Harriet leaves, my bedroom. I hear the front door open, and the murmur of voices. Hurriedly, I pull on the more comfortable pair of strappy heels and go out into the living room.
“Hello, there,” Mason greets me. He gives me a long, hungry look. “Damn, Anna.”
“I hope that’s a compliment?” I say in a teasing tone that I hope doesn’t betray how nervous I am.
“Holy shit yes, it is.” He lets out a low whistle. “You look fucking fantastic.”
I just stop myself from telling him he does, too. Mason is already arrogant enough without me adding to it. He’s dressed in a simple but elegant tux that looks like it was sewn onto him. I’ve never been all that entranced by men in suits, but he looks so good in his it almost literally makes my mouth water. I offer up a silent prayer of thanks that we’re going to be around people all night so I won’t be tempted to jump his bones.
Then I remember there’s someone else in the room.
“Harriet, this is Mason,” I stammer. “My fiancé.”
“Uh-huh,” Harriet replies flatly.
Mason glances at me, questioning. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“Anna told me everything,” Harriet continues, before I can stop her. “And before you get pissed about that, she needs at least one person to confide in about this. You can’t expect her to live this bullshit lie for a whole year without anyone to talk to about it.”
I think Mason’s going to be mad. And maybe he is, a little. But to his credit, he keeps his cool.
He turns to me. “Is she always so… like this?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harriet retorts.
“With manners that suggest you were raised by wolves,” Mason responds coolly. “And I wasn’t talking to you. Anna, are you sure it was a good idea to tell this Willy Wonka reject about our agreement?”
Harriet reaches up self-consciously to touch her blue hair and shoots Mason a hateful look.
“I’m sorry, Mason,” I stammer. “But I know Harriet. She won’t tell anyone. Plus, she doesn’t know anyone who would care, anyway.”
“Not much of a sports fan, are you?” he asks, turning back to Harriet.
She gives him a shrewd look. “Nope,” she spits out, and doesn’t elaborate.
He laughs. “Well, I’m sorry to end this scintillating conversation, but we really need to go. You ready, Anna?”
I take a deep, cleansing breath and blow it out. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I admit.
Mason offers me his arm, which I take, and leads me down the stairs. Behind me, Harriet calls, “Have a good time at prom!” in a snarky voice, and slams the apartment door.
“Jesus. She’s something.” Mason shakes his head ruefully. “That’s the first woman I’ve met in a long time who didn’t instantly succumb
to my charms.”
“Except for me,” I remind him.
Mason gives me a significant look. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I change the subject.
“Harriet’s a pretty tough sell,” I continue. “Plus she thinks sports are stupid. If you were a drummer, you might have been able to break through.”
“Ha. The best I can do is two years of trombone.”
“Clarinet,” I tell him, pointing to my chest. “Through high school.”
“Noted,” he says, giving me an amused smile.
Mason leads me to the limousine, where a driver is standing beside the open door. “This is Fred,” he tells me. “Fred, this is Anna.”
“Miss,” Fred nods. I slide inside the backseat and Mason slides in next to me. Fred slams the door shut, and then we’re on our way.
“So,” Mason says, turning to me with a grin. “Our first official outing as a couple. Nervous?”
“No,” I lie. “You?”
“Maybe a little,” he smirks. “We got this, though.”
Thankfully, Mason’s confidence is contagious. When we arrive at the gala, he slides out of the limo first. He offers me his arm again and shepherds me down an actual freaking red carpet to the entrance. Off to the side, there’s a small line of photographers taking photos, probably for the local newspapers. I notice a couple of them focusing on me, and even zooming in on my left hand, which I’ve been careful to place on Mason’s left forearm so it’s clearly visible. When we’ve run the gauntlet and gotten through the doorway to the historic mansion where the event is being held, he leans down and murmurs in my ear. “There. The hardest part’s over. By tomorrow, every rag in town will know your name and have announced we’re engaged.”
The rest of the evening, frankly, is a blur. I meet so many people, including a handful of Mason’s new teammates, that they all more or less run together. Mason seems a hundred percent at ease, and introduces me around to everyone like he’s proud, happy, and in love. I have to hand it to him, he’s a natural actor. I feel myself relaxing little by little as we get used to playing our roles. He moves me through the crowd, his hand pressing possessively against the small of my back. I find myself kind of intoxicated by the whole thing in spite of myself. At one point, we’re talking to the mayor of Springville and his wife, and Mason laces his hand through mine and gives me a look so full of devotion, I almost forget that none of this is real.
After the gala, Mason calls Fred, who drives us back to my place. I’ve had a couple of glasses of champagne, and Mason’s cracking jokes that are making me laugh. Somehow, his hand has laced itself in mine again, and the contact of his warm skin makes me feel kind of warm and fuzzy.
When we arrive at the Victorian, to my amazement there are paparazzi stationed outside.
“Oh, my gosh,” I murmur, astonished. “Already?”
“I told you,” Mason chuckles. “Just ignore them. They only want a few pictures. You don’t have to talk to them or anything.”
“Are they going to follow me around everywhere?” I ask, turning to him. I sort of thought I’d only be dealing with the photographers when I was with Mason.
“Not forever,” he reassures me. “Don’t worry. The story just broke. They’re eager for details. Once it all comes out, we’ll be old news, and they’ll move on to the next story.”
That’s what he keeps telling me, and I really hope he’s right. This is the first time I’ve really seen the media from the other side of the lens. It’s not very pleasant, and kind of scary.
Fred parks the car and opens the door for us. Just like at the gala, Mason slides out first and escorts me to the front door. When I’ve unlocked it, he puts his arms around my waist and draws me to him. Dipping his face down to mine, he kisses me, deeply.
And even though I know it’s for the cameras, it still sends shivers all through my body.
When he finally lets go, I’m practically panting. Every cell in my body wants more. I look into his eyes, and see the unmistakable hunger in them.
“Good night, Anna,” he whispers. “Too bad I’m not going to be the one to take that dress off you tonight.”
Then he’s gone. And I’m back inside, leaning against the door and trying not to hyperventilate.
I have to be on air for an early segment at the station the next morning. Between that, and the fact that my whole body is aflame from Mason’s kiss, I barely get any sleep that night.
I’m long finished with my spots and back in the newsroom working when Ethan comes in around eight. He goes straight into his office, then after a minute or so comes back out and makes a beeline for my desk.
“Anna. Can I see you in my office, please?”
I glance up to see that Ethan is actually looking at me. Usually, his eyes pass over me dismissively, even when he speaks to me directly.
“Is it the copy about the chess story, Ethan? If so, I’m sorry. There was a mistake that I noticed just as I was going to hand it in to you. I’m working on correcting it now. If you’ll just give me…”
“It’s not about the copy, Anna,” he interrupts.
Immediately, my back straightens. Ethan almost never calls me by my first name unless he’s aggravated with me. Usually he just barks orders at me. Yet he’s done it twice in the space of a minute.
“Then, what is it?” I ask, hesitant.
“Please come into my office. You can finish that later.” He looks down at my desk, and blinks. “Nice flowers,” he remarks. And then smiles at me.
Another first.
“Of course,” I say with a brief nod, and follow him down the corridor into his office.
“Take a seat,” he says pleasantly, gesturing with his hand.
I wait for him to sit first, then move to the chair in front of his desk.
“I wanted to talk to you about your job here.” I instantly freeze. “Don’t worry,” he says quickly. “It’s nothing bad.”
I breathe out a sigh. “Okay.” My hands tremble a little where they sit on my lap. I’m trying not to react and keep my expression professional, but inside my chest my heart is going wild.
“I was thinking it’s about time to move you up into a more visible slot,” he offers. “A position on the morning show. How would you feel about that?”
I’m more than ready to jump at it. It’s exactly what I want, handed to me on a silver platter. I can barely believe this is finally happening.
“Doing sports?” I ask.
“No, Wayne Harris is covering that, as you know.” I’m disappointed, but I know the morning isn’t a prime time for sports reporting.
“I’d be thrilled to,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “When do you want me to start?”
“Immediately. You’ll be working segments in the six o’clock and seven o’clock hours to start.”
I almost scream, I’m so excited. But I manage to contain myself.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “This means a lot to me. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” he nods, and gives me a smile that’s almost warm.
I’m assuming the meeting’s over, so I get up from my chair and prepare to leave. But Ethan isn’t finished.
“By the way, I hear you’ve been holding out on me,” he says.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Mason Robichaud.” Ethan glances down and eyes the ring on my finger. “Why hasn’t it ever come up in conversation that you’re engaged to him?”
“Well,” I say, reddening. “We just got engaged, actually. And, uh, my dad always taught me to keep my personal life separate from my work life.”
“Admirable,” Ethan says, but he doesn’t look like he means it. “You’re full of surprises, Anna.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just laugh weakly. “I guess so.”
“You know,” he continues. “I’d bet the people of Springville would love an exclusive interview with the newly-signed linebacker for the Rockets and his new fiancé
e. Don’t you think they’d love that?”
Finally, I see where he’s heading. I also see that the promotion he gave me is because he just found out about Mason and me.
And that the exclusive interview he’s asking for is part of an unstated agreement, in exchange for this promotion. A promise of better things to come, if I can get WSPR noticed as the station Mason Robichaud’s fiancée works for.
It’s exactly what I was hoping for when I agreed to be Mason’s pretend fiancée.
But somehow, it doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would.
“I’ll talk to Mason about it,” I say dully, fixing a smile on my face that feels more like a grimace. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to do it.”
“Good.” He shoots me a grin, which makes his face look slightly rat-like. “I’ll be looking forward to hearing his answer.”
19
Mason
Anna calls me the day after the gala and tells me her boss has asked us to do an exclusive interview for the station. Of course I’m fine with it. An interview showing us newly engaged and in love benefits us both.
The interview is conducted by one of Anna’s colleagues named Mackenzie. She’s young, like Anna, and exactly what you’d expect an up and coming female TV personality would look like. She’s also pretty — very pretty — with perfectly styled hair, makeup, and clothes. But there’s something a little fake about her that I can’t help but compare to Anna as we sit down for the interview. Anna’s been made up for the occasion, too, of course. She’s got on a stunning deep purple dress that I’ve never seen on her before. It brings out the creaminess in her skin and her dark eyes. But whereas Mackenzie looks a little like a plastic doll, Anna looks fresh and real. Natural, even under the makeup.
After the cameras and sound equipment are set up, and the technicians have the lighting just the way they want it, we start filming. The final product, the producer has told us, will only be about eight minutes long, though they’ll want a lot more tape than that to make sure they have enough to work with. Mackenzie sits down across from us, a few small note cards in her hand. I look over at Anna and give her a wink. She shoots me back a look that shows me just how nervous she is.
PLAYERS: The Complete Series (Springville Rockets (Sports Romance Books 1-3) Page 44
