“Sorry, I totally zoned out for a minute,” I said. “What’s up?”
“He’s about to arrive! Wren just came in and said the limo is pulling up,” she replied, her voice laced with excitement. “Troy Ballard! Oh my god, I still can’t believe he’s the Stud this season. I could just die.”
“I can’t believe it either,” I muttered. “I think I could just die too…”
But not in the same way you mean it, I thought bitterly.
Maybe I could mention my past with Troy to our boss Glenn, and he’d see it as a conflict of interest and call his contacts to assign me to another show on the network. Then again, this was the only show I’d ever worked on, so it was more likely that he’d just tell me to suck it up, get over my stupid high school drama, and get on with the job.
As I should do, I thought to myself glumly. It really was high school drama, and if I wanted to be taken seriously as an adult in this line of work, then I needed to act like a professional and get over all my crap from the past. I couldn’t think of anyone else I knew who was still hung up on some asshole who’d hurt them years ago.
“I thought he was still dating that model. You know, the blonde Isobel’s Secret one? Emma something-rather. I guess they broke up, though.”
Candice was still chattering beside me, and I raised my eyebrows. “Who was dating her?” I asked.
She gave me an exasperated look. “Troy Ballard. The guy we were literally just talking about. What’s with you today?”
“Sorry. Got a splitting headache,” I said.
She gave me a sympathetic look. “That sucks. I have some Advil somewhere,” she said. “I’ll get it in a minute. Anyway, what do you actually know about Troy?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “Other than that he’s an NFL player. I guess I’ll have to read the whole dossier on him when Glenn hands out the copies.”
Truthfully, I’d been following Troy’s life and career for a while now, ever since I opened the newspaper one day and saw an article about how he’d gone pro after college. He played for a San Francisco-based NFL team, and he’d gone the same route as many other hot young star players with too much endorsement money to burn. He partied in the off-seasons like no one was watching, despite the fact that the media was always watching, and according to the gossip sites, he went home with a different socialite, actress or model at least once a week.
Probably every day, more like it.
He’d also been arrested for a DUI a couple of years ago, which he’d somehow luckily managed to worm his way out of. I guess he took after his father more than he’d ever wanted to admit he could, as much as that fact saddened me.
If he wasn’t such a great football player, then his wild antics might’ve gotten him thrown off his team a while ago, or at least knocked down to second string, but he was a beast on the field, and the team coaches had stated several times in the past that he was an invaluable asset. He’d led San Francisco to win the championship two years running now, and for those people who were inclined to make bets, he was heavily tipped to do the same in the next season.
“All right everyone, here he comes,” Glenn said from the front of the room. “Get to know this handsome face, because he’s your main priority from this moment onwards.”
As he spoke, the main door to the briefing room opened, and in stepped Troy, flanked by his assigned producer, Wren, and two studio assistants who’d been tasked with showing him around.
“Hey, guys,” he said. “Thanks for having me.”
As everyone began to fawn over him, his lips curled into his trademark smile; the same cheeky smirk his fans adored. They all thought it made him look like a lovable bad boy, but I thought it made him look like an arrogant prick. My face turned hot as I looked down at the floor, trying not to draw his attention to me.
Then again, if he saw me, maybe he’d feel guilty for what he’d done. The thought made me feel slightly satisfied—as much as I could be under the circumstances, anyway—and I looked back up to see him shaking hands with Glenn before moving down the room to say hi to other people. He nodded at Candice, who was still next to me, and she barely suppressed a squeal of excitement as she introduced herself. Troy’s gaze then moved to me, ice-blue eyes roaming all over my curves, and I stared boldly up at him without moving.
“Hi, Troy,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice from quavering.
My heart thudded, and as I stood there, I was reminded why my stomach used to do flip-flops whenever I saw Troy in the school halls, long before we’d ever been together. Long before he’d broken my heart. His gaze finally came up from my cleavage to rest on my face, and I waited for the inevitable flicker of recognition to cross his features.
It never came.
His gorgeous eyes glazed right over as he nodded a brief ‘hello’ to me, as if he honestly had no idea who I was, and then he quickly moved on to another producer.
Wow. I couldn’t believe it. After all the heartbreak, all the tears I’d shed, and all the years I’d spent not being able to trust because of this man….
He didn’t even remember me.
Chapter Two
Troy
“This should be a really great season. You have no idea how glad I am you said yes to my offer, Troy.”
The showrunner of The Stud, Glenn van der Koning, smiled effusively at me as he thanked me again for agreeing to be part of his show, and I smiled and half-tuned him out as I glanced over his shoulder at Eden, who was turned to the side while engaging in a conversation with a bubbly junior show exec who’d introduced herself as Candice.
Eden still had the same animated expression on her gorgeous face that she’d always had whenever she talked back in the days that I’d known her, and her luminous green eyes were exactly as I remembered; those perfect peepers which made me melt a little inside every time I thought of them. I’d recognized her as soon as I stepped into the room. I didn’t let her know that, though—I didn’t want her to think I was some sort of fucking creep who’d agreed to do a reality show just so I could run into her.
Even though that was exactly why I was here.
She smiled at Candice, and I watched as she flicked her long ponytail back over her shoulder. Christ, she hadn’t changed a bit since I last saw her. She’d always done that hair thing when she was a bit nervous but trying to stay calm, and she still had the same soft curves and glowing caramel skin, seemingly unaffected by time.
I still remembered the first time I ever saw her as clear as day.
I’d been in my junior year of high school, standing in the cafeteria and shooting the shit with some of my buddies. We were all typical hormonal teenage boys—horny as fuck with very little regard for the feelings of the girls we might hurt with our frequent backseat seductions, and always bragging about our latest conquests.
But then I saw her.
I heard something drop behind me, and I turned around and picked it up without thinking. As I placed it on the tray of the girl who’d dropped it, I looked up and practically drowned in the most spectacular pair of eyes I’d ever seen. They belonged to a girl I’d never seen around school before, and for the first time in my life, I was speechless. It wasn’t just her eyes, it was everything. She was sexy, cute, and beautiful, all those rare qualities rolled into one perfect package, and her plump cherry lips made me want to lean down and kiss her right then and there.
But I didn’t. I was still totally and utterly speechless.
I had a reputation to uphold, however, and I didn’t want her or her friend thinking I was some sort of pussy, so I gave them a bright smile and then turned back to my friends, my heart pounding.
“You know her or something?” my buddy Cal asked, jerking his thumb towards the girl and her friend, who had now passed us and were heading over to a table on the far left side of the room.
“Nah. Who is she?”
“Pretty sure it’s Eden Zamora. She’s in my sister’s English Lit class. Smart as hell. And the girl next to her w
as Blair Gilbert.”
The great thing about Cal was that he knew everyone, or at least knew of them. He’d always been useful to have around when I was trying to score whatever chick I’d spotted on any given day, because he’d be able to tell me their full names and several useful facts about them which helped me when I tried to pick them up. Girls loved feeling special; like a guy had really made an effort to get to know them.
“You think she and her friend would be up to partying with us sometime?” I asked, keeping my voice casual. “She’s kinda hot.”
Cal snorted and shook his head. “Fuck no. The only parties a girl like her would go to are her grandmother’s tea parties. She’s not like us, man. Too good for the likes of you.”
He grinned and socked me in the shoulder, and I chuckled and nodded, not wanting to let on how disappointed I was in the fact that he was right. A girl that gorgeous was too good for me and always would be. I might’ve been popular, but I had a bad reputation for a reason—I came from a shitty family from the wrong side of the tracks, and I’d always been a bit of a dick when it came to girls. I’d be interested in them for a while, but the minute I got them down on their knees with their lips around my dick, or stretched out in the backseat of my car with their tanned legs spread wide, I lost all interest.
Every time without fail.
I didn’t want to risk doing that to a girl like Eden. I knew it was shitty that I’d do it to any girl at all, but the types I usually went for were well-versed in hookup culture—they’d already banged half the football team and were able to move on quickly to another guy’s cock once I lost interest. Eden seemed different. In the few seconds that I’d looked into her eyes, I’d seen a sort of angelic purity deep within them. None of that ‘virgin purity’ bullshit—I’d never bought into that misogynistic crap about girls becoming damaged goods once they slept with someone—but a sort of innocence about the whole world, as if casual hookups were too good for her, and the only thing she’d ever want or deserve was true love.
I knew it sounded totally ridiculous that I could get so much from one look, but that was how I felt. So out of the fear of hurting her the way I inadvertently hurt everyone, I left her alone and never asked her out, although I did keep tabs on her articles in the school paper. Cal had been right; she was a genius with the English language, and her writing was fantastic.
Then I ran into her one day in the locker room, and I hadn’t been able to resist. In fact, she’d been the one steering the conversation in the direction of us dating, and shit…there was no way I could say no to her then.
The rest was history. We spent three perfect months together, and while everyone was shocked that an asshole player like me actually had a steady girlfriend for once, that hadn’t stopped us from enjoying every second of each other’s company. We slept together for the first time after a winning game, and I’d known then that she was definitely the right one for me. I hadn’t lost interest in her afterwards at all; quite the opposite. I wanted more and more, and I even wished that she was the only girl I’d ever been with.
I loved her.
I sighed and dropped my eyes back to The Stud showrunner, not wanting Eden to turn her head and catch me staring as I took my mental trip down memory lane.
I still remembered the last time I’d seen her as well as the first. We’d gone on a date to the local grill, and at the time, I hadn’t known that it was the last time I’d ever see that beautiful face. I received a call from my coach the next night, telling me that the scholarship to San Francisco State I was desperate for had initially gone to someone else. That kid had apparently decided to turn it down at the last minute after an injury, and I was the second choice by a hair’s breadth. That was good enough for me; it was a full-ride Division I scholarship, which anyone in the world would be lucky to score, even if they’d been the second choice.
Because it was such a last minute thing, I hadn’t really had any time to think it over. Coach told me that there was a training camp in the Bay Area starting in a week, before the college semester started, and I would be expected at it if I were to accept the scholarship, meaning I’d have to miss my official school graduation ceremony. That was all right by me—I’d already been given the proper diploma papers, and it wasn’t like I had much family to show up and watch me in my gown and cap.
Unfortunately, the Bay Area was a hundred miles away, and my trusty old Camaro had finally conked out the day before. My Dad couldn’t—and wouldn’t—give me any money to fix it, so my only option was to take the weekly bus, which left at eleven A.M. every Friday.
It was Wednesday night.
That gave me exactly one and a half days to pack and get the hell out of town…but how could I do that to Eden? I couldn’t say goodbye and take off to my future without seeing her first. I thought about turning the whole scholarship down, just so I could stay in town with her while she finished school, but I knew she’d never allow it. She’d always understood my desire to get away from my crappy home life, and she’d endlessly supported my goal of playing pro football, despite not being a huge sports fan herself. She’d never let me give up such an incredible opportunity.
We could make the long-distance thing work, though. I just knew it.
And so I’d come up with The Plan.
In our time together, she'd mentioned a few times how she loved the idea of big romantic gestures. Romance in general, really. She always made me watch these sappy movies with her, and I’d always grinned at the dreamy sighs she let out when Leo DiCaprio wrote a romantic letter of some kind, or when Brad Pitt made some big speech about love. I guess it wasn't surprising that she ended up working for a show which peddled romance and true love to enchanted viewers all over the country.
Anyway, seeing as our relationship hadn't exactly started out in a romantic way—in a sweaty old locker room, to be exact—I'd wanted to make that up to her with a big romantic gesture of my own before I left.
The Plan was this—I wrote her a heartfelt letter explaining everything to her; the situation, my feelings for her, my desire to keep what we had no matter the distance, and then on the back of the letter I included instructions for a scavenger hunt. The hunt was quick and easy, using some of our favorite date locations as clue spots, and it ended in the park near the river that ran by her house. We’d had a cute little picnic there one day a few weeks ago, and while we were there we found a tree which was sort of hidden behind some others. It had a small round nook in it, and Eden’s eyes lit up when she first saw it. She’d apparently read some fairytale as a kid where something amazing was secretly hidden in a tree nook just like that, and that was why I made that nook the last location for the scavenger hunt.
Inside it was a little box with my favorite great-aunt’s ring in it. She’d given it to me years ago before she died, telling me that my father couldn’t be trusted with it, and so she wanted me to have it. She said it wasn’t worth much financially, but it was old and dear to her, so she wanted me to give it to the right woman if I ever found her. As far as I was concerned, Eden was that woman. I was only eighteen, but I knew it.
The letter also included a time for Eden to meet me, near the bus station, if she was so inclined once she’d read it and found the ring. I actually remembered every single word of that letter like the back of my hand.
Eden,
I’m no good at writing, but I know you love reading and romance, so I’m giving this whole love letter thing a shot. You know that scholarship to San Fran State? I got it! Only problem is, I have to leave on Friday morning. I know it’s last minute, but I only just found out. I’d never keep anything from you. Please don’t worry—this doesn’t mean we’re over. Not at all. It’s only 100 miles away, so I figure you can come visit me, and I can come back on some weekends as well. Then once you’ve finished school, you can come join me. That’s just one year away.
Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I didn’t text or call you to talk about this. Thing is, I know you love rom
antic gestures, so I decided to make one big one before I left, so you can remember our last time here together fondly while you wait to see me again. I’ve included a list of clues on the back of this page for a scavenger hunt—there’s something special for you to find (and I hope you don’t think the whole hunt thing is totally lame).
Once you’ve done that—well, if you do it, that is—I’d like you to meet me outside the bus station on Friday. The bus leaves at eleven, but I’ll be there at eight, just so I can spend those last few hours with you. The weather report says it’s going to be raining, so we can even have a big dramatic kiss in the rain, just like they did in that old movie you love.
See? I can do romance!
I know I haven’t said this properly in person yet, but I love you, Eden. I really hope you feel the same way, and I hope you want to make this work as much as I do.
See you Friday.
Love,
Troy.
P.S. If for some reason you don’t feel the same way, or you don’t think a long distance thing can work, then don’t worry—no hard feelings. I’ll understand, and I’ll still love you and think about you all the time.
I’d written that letter and set up the hunt on the Thursday morning before I left, and then I started walking over to her house to hand-deliver it to her. She lived on the good side of town, so it was a four mile walk, but I didn’t care. It would be worth it to see her.
On my way over, I ran into her best friend Blair.
“Hey, Troy!” she said, enthusiastically greeting me when she spotted me. “Where are you going?”
“Going to see Eden. Where else?” I replied with a grin.
Blair’s face fell. “I had the same idea as you,” she said. “But I should’ve called first. She’s not home. Her Mom said she’s at Sienna’s, getting her hair done, so I’m just heading there now. Wanna walk with me?”
“I…er…” I hesitated. Sienna’s was an upscale hair salon in town, and it was the kind of place with owners and patrons who would turn their nose up at me if I showed my face there. I might’ve been popular around school, but I was what a lot of the adults in town referred to as ‘bad news’, and I didn’t want one of my last memories of seeing Eden to be tainted with that sort of bullshit. I pulled the letter out of my pocket and held it out to Blair.
Daddy's Fake Bride (A Fake Marriage Romance) Page 46
