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It would be a lie that he didn’t pique my curiosity. Everything I had read about him made me think that he was a self-centered asshole who only cared about having the prettiest woman in the room on his arm. The man that I had sat with at the club was the exact opposite of the person I had painted in my head. He hadn’t bothered with any woman that had been hanging around the VIP section waiting to pounce on the first player that paid them any attention. He also hadn’t even sipped one drink. It was a complete one-eighty from the person I had read about in articles that had been posted when he was in San Diego.
When I considered the way he had protected me against the paparazzo and actually seemed genuinely interested in my life, it had me questioning everything I knew about him. I was becoming increasingly curious in a dangerous way, like a door opening, calling me to try to peel back more layers of Tommy Mikals to figure out the truth.
“Okay, yes. The current situation is less than stellar. I get it,” Olivia continued. “But my Spidey senses are tingling, and I feel like this could be something.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Just hear me out,” Olivia started as she threw her arms wide and situated herself on the couch. Lottie and I shared a look, because we knew whatever was coming next was going to be the kind of far-fetched idea that Olivia was known for coming up with. “Judging from how the only interest that Tommy showed that night was directed toward you tells me that he must find you fascinating. That’s something we can work with.”
Lottie let out a loud sigh from the far side of the couch. “Maggie is not you, Olivia. She doesn’t pursue men like a game.”
“Excuse you.” Olivia shot daggers at her sister before she turned back to me. “What I’m trying to say is, what if he’s actually interested in you? What if you flirt a little bit with the Tommy Mikals and see what happens?”
“There is no reality in which Tommy would ever want to date me,” I tell her.
“Maggie, you need to stop this self-doubt train that you are constantly on. I’m tired of watching you think of yourself as a second fiddle when you are the star of the show. You always have been.” Olivia finally put her phone down so she could take my hands in hers.
“I can’t risk dating a player, Olivia,” I told her. “I love my job too much. And I have so many ideas to help our media department that I haven’t been able to implement yet.”
“You are such an asset to the Cougars, Mags.” Lottie reached across her sister to wrap me in a hug. “If you feel like Tommy would jeopardize that, then don’t pursue it.”
“I’m afraid that photo is going to jeopardize my job without my even trying to flirt with Tommy.” My chest felt heavy at the thought of losing the job that had saved me from one of the darkest moments in my life.
“It’ll be okay, Mags.” Olivia joined in on the hug. “I promise.”
Everything in me sincerely hoped that Olivia was right. That everything was going to be okay and my job wasn’t on the line because of some guy with a camera and Tommy’s reputation. I was hoping that maybe for once the world would skip me on this deliverance of luck or lack thereof. But if I had learned anything over the past year, it was to not hold my breath for the tide to turn.
Maggie
The afternoon of Opening Day, I found myself exactly where I didn’t want to be. In May’s office, feeling like I was waiting to be told I had detention from the school principal. I was cursing Olivia with everything inside me. Of course the one night I finally agreed to go out, something like this would happen.
If there was some lesson to be learned from all of this, it was that I should have stayed home with my ice cream, romantic comedies, and face masks. There were no paparazzi lurking around corners, waiting to ruin my life on rom-com night. There was only Peter Kavinsky, Edward Lewis, Graham Simpkins, and Jake Perry.
May entered a few moments later, interrupting my mental breakdown. She looked less than pleased, sending my hopes and dreams crashing down into the cold, deep depths of unemployment.
“You’re going to want to follow me.” May motioned for me to come with her back out of her office and toward the C-suite.
Oh shit.
I wasn’t going to get fired by my boss. I was going to be berated by the owner of the team for helping add to the bad-boy image that Tommy Mikals had created for himself. The exact image the PR team had been working to fix. My mind thought through all of my back-up plans as we drew closer to the main conference room. Maybe JCPenney would hire me to take those eighties headshot photos that were trending on social media.
We rounded the corner, and I was greeted by the entire PR team seated around the long table with Tommy sitting in the middle. He looked as surprised as I was to see him. So not only was I about to lose my job, but I was going to have to do it in front of him? Could this day get any worse?
“Have a seat.” The head of the PR department, Monica, motioned for me to sit down at the head of the table facing everyone else. I slowly sank down in the chair, wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else. If I could wish for something bad enough, it would be to disappear from that conference room at that exact moment.
“So I’m sure you two have already seen it,” Monica started.
I knew what “it” was, but a small part of me hoped that maybe this meeting was for something else entirely. But with a click of a button, there it was up on the large flatscreen in the conference room in high definition. A picture of me and Tommy in his car, my hand doing a poor job of covering my face. The looks on our faces made it seem like we had been caught doing something we shouldn’t have been.
Which I guess was true.
It was probably the best picture the paparazzo had gotten that night. On the bright side, I didn’t look half bad. My normally wild curls looked perfectly unkempt. There was a flush on my cheeks from the cool air, and for once, I didn’t hate how my body looked in a photo. I looked pretty. At least there was one win on this day.
“This photo has been plastered across practically every news outlet and all over social media.” Monica sat back in her chair, lacing her hands together in front of her on the table. Her body language screamed don’t mess with me, and I didn’t really feel like testing that. “And you’ve been trending on social media. So we’ve come up with a plan.”
A what?
My head snapped over to Monica, my eyes tearing from the picture on the screen. Did she say a plan? That was not how I imagined I would be fired.
