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“You have got to be shitting me?” I glare at my agent before my gaze moves to my publicist Clarissa. The latter’s mouth forms a tight line, and she shakes her head.
“I’m afraid not. You really messed up this time. There are online petitions calling for you to be removed from the NFL permanently.” She sighs, rubbing her temples as if trying to find the strength to deal with me. “Listen to me Knox and listen good. I know this all seems far-fetched but it’s the only strategy we have come up with that we think will make you look human and not like the above-the-law god you seem to think yourself to be. Scarlett Grisham is a fading actress. She needs the publicity as much as you do. She is a good choice for this?—”
I hold my hand up to stop her. “Scarlett is one of your clients, isn’t she Clarissa?” It’s not a question but she answers anyway.
“Yes,” she admits although I knew what her response would be. “But that is not why I am doing this. We need to transform your image. Right now, you are seen as a playboy, the bad boy of the NFL. I will arrange for you and Scarlett to meet to get to know each other. If all goes well—and I think it will—we can move on to the next stage in yourfauxationship.” I pinher with a look that says, I have no idea what that is. “Like a relationship but fake,” she explains before continuing. “You will be pictured out at restaurants, doing the grocery shopping, and other normal couply shit. You will be in the tabloids, seen in loving embraces, kissing, cuddling, and in a couple of months we will announce your engagement. I know it’s not what you want, and I am not asking you to marry Scarlett, but you will be engaged. The world will think that the twenty-nine-year-old lothario Knox McCabe has finally settled down and become a one-woman man. When the dust has settled, we can slowly start the breakup rumors if that’s what you want. You never know. You might fall for her for real.” Clarissa smirks.
I shake my head. I know of Scarlett Grisham. Yes, she is a beautiful woman, but there is also talk that she is crazy. At seventeen she seduced and became pregnant by the director of her hit show, Girl Talk. Peter Devereux was ten years her senior and a married man at the time. The press went wild over the news and still to this day—eighteen years later—they talk about it. The only reason Peter never went to prison was because they were living in New York City and the age of consent for sex is seventeen. There was also the fact that Scarlett publicly admitted to seducing him. After taking a few years out to raise her daughter and only accepting small roles, she finally got back into the world of showbiz and became a huge star. You would have thought the opposite after going after another woman’s man and being very open with not caring about his poor wife but no, both of their careers hit superstardom. He was a director in demand, and she was the actress offered role after role. Until now. At thirty-six, her career has all but dried up. I guess that’s where I come in.
“Scarlett Grisham is hardly the right choice. She has as many skeletons in her closet as I do mine,” I point out.
“That may well be. But at the height of her fame, she was the golden girl of Hollywood. People saw her as the sweetheart single mother, doing her charity work and keeping her nose clean. She has had no bad articles written about her in the last fifteen years. Yes, there will forever be the reminder of her less-than-good deeds––her teenage daughter is proof of that, but I can control it to fit a good narrative. Let me do it for you. Just think about the headlines. The bad boy NFL player and the ex-darling of Hollywood. People will go wild for it. And more than anything it will make you look good.” She sighs in exasperation. “Look Knox. Do it. Don’t do it. But I am going to be frank with you. It’s the only way I can save your reputation. It’s not bad enough that you were caught driving while you had a goddamn Victoria’s Secret model sucking your dick, but then you proceeded to tell the female officer to join you and the male one to fuck off. You now have public indecency on your record. Plus, the whole bullshit with that quarterback you fucked up in your last game. People don’t like you right now. Even your loyal fans are questioning their devotion to you. Let’s kill two birds with one stone. Over the next few months, we will present you as remorseful for your actions. To the world you will be the devoted boyfriend and then fiancé to Scarlett Grisham. You will live together and act like a model citizen and while you are doing that you will also complete your community service.”
I stare at her, waiting for whatever bullshit she is going to tell me now. I knew I had to do it. It was part of my agreement when I went to court. But I was never involved in what that service would be. “Which is?” I prompt.
Clarissa keeps a straight face, but I see the amusement in her eyes. “You will be teaching physical education at Scarlett’s daughter’s private school. For a year,” she adds.
My head swivels to my agent, who has stayed quiet this whole time. Now I know why. He knew what Clarissa would offerme, knew about the teaching. “What the fuck? I am not a PE teacher,” I spit, pinning accusing eyes on Brett. “Get me out of it,” I demand.
Brett shakes his head. “Can’t. Your lawyer negotiated to get you the best deal. That was it. It’s better than picking up litter off the side of the road and the only reason the judge agreed to it is because she didn’t want a circus of paparazzi following you while doing it.” He exhales. “This is the best option for you right now, Knox. My advice? Take it. You don’t even have to fuck Scarlett, just live with her and take her out for the occasional dinner for all we care. But it needs to be for a year. By then the negative stories should have all died down. The Rams have suspended you and will only talk to me about contracts if you can prove yourself over the next year. Take the teaching position. Be the doting boyfriend. This will be good for you Knox. It will give you time to grow the hell up and be a better person. I don’t want to hear one bad thing about you in the press. If I do, I will have no choice but to think about ending our working relationship. I don’t want to do that, man. I’ve been with you since the beginning, but I can’t be seen supporting someone who self-sabotages and is constantly making bad headlines. I have already had two clients drop me because I am sticking by you. Don’t make me regret standing by you Knox.”
I scrub a palm down my face. I didn’t realize my bad choices were affecting other people. People I care about. And I do care about Brett. He took a chance on me when I was just a college kid with a dream. I owe him this. I owe him to be better.
Mind made up, I look from Brett to Clarissa. “Fine. Set up a meeting.”
Madison
Two months later…
“What the fuck?” I mutter to myself as I flick through the article on my cell. My mom, engaged? To someone she supposedly only started dating two months ago. I only spoke to her a couple days ago and she never mentioned it. When I ask her about her relationship, she always brushes it off which makes me think that all is not as it seems.
Her dating NFL bad boy Knox McCabe came out of the blue, the timing was also very convenient. He was on the front of every tabloid and for all the wrong reasons. Then suddenly, he is the doting boyfriend with only eyes for my mother? Yeah. No. I don’t buy it.
Call me a skeptic but there is also the fact that I know my mom. She never dates younger men—daddy issues or something—and Knox is seven years her junior. I could be wrong about all this, they could be hopelessly in love, but something tells me that my instincts are right.
I haven’t met Knox in person yet. I am on summer break and decided to spend it in New York with my father and his wife. It’s been perfect and given me the chance to pursue what I want most in life—to become a wildlife photographer. My dad’s wife is the editor in chief for the most successful nature magazine in the world—Wildlife World. Vanessa Devereaux not only bought me my first camera, but she encourages me to chase my dreams. Much to my mother’s disgust. Mom wants me to follow in her footsteps, to be an actress. I can think of nothing worse.
Growing up she was your typical stage mom and at eight years old she started pushing me to audition for different roles in acting and modeling. After a few years of playing parts I thought I wanted, I realized I wasn’t doing it for me but to make my mother happy. I hated acting. I hated modeling. When I told her all this she was horrified. The daughter of actress Scarlett Grisham hating the very industry that she loved. Unacceptable.
She continued to push me but the more she pressed the more I refused. Not wanting me to embarrass her she agreed to let me live a normal childhood but only if I did acting and modeling when I finished school. I accepted her terms—emotional guilt will do that to you—but I have no intention of being an actress. I want to be a photographer. I just need to find a way of telling my mother that.
Flicking to my call log, I press down on my mother’s number and bring my phone to my ear. The call rings out and I don’t think she is going to answer but then her voice sounds down the line. “Hey sweetie. How’s my baby?”
I grit my teeth at her nonchalant attitude. She knows damn well I would have seen the article. “Don’t ‘hey sweetie’ me, Mom. What the hell. You’re engaged?”
She sighs and I know without seeing her that she is rolling her eyes so hard right now. “Don’t be so dramatic Madi.” Shechuckles. “Although it will come in handy when we get you back into acting.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, praying for patience I don’t feel. At eighteen, I sometimes feel like the adult in our relationship. Which is no surprise. Mom got pregnant and had me when she was only seventeen. It was a whole scandal at the time and not only because my mother was a teenager but because my father, the director of the series she starred in, was a married man and ten years her senior. Case in point. Scarlett Grisham loves and has always dated older men. As much as she would never admit to it, she is still hopelessly in love with my father. He is the love of her life while she is probably his biggest mistake. Don’t get me wrong, my dad loves me, but I think deep down he wishes he had never gotten involved with my mother.
“Mom, what is going on? Is this for real or is it just another PR stunt?” I ask, wanting to know what the hell is happening and why she is messing around with someone like Knox McCabe.
“Jesus Christ Madison. Don’t sugarcoat it,” she barks. “I will discuss this with you when you get back, which is in two days right?”
She is evading the question which means my suspicions might just be right. “Yeah.” I exhale already feeling drained at the thought of going back to LA. “I will send you my flight details.”
She squeals like a best friend rather than a mother. But I guess that describes our relationship perfectly. Since the moment I was old enough to understand things, Mom always treated me like more of a friend than a daughter. I remember when I was fourteen and she was drunk. I spent four hours with her while she rambled on about my father, how much she loved him, and howhelost the best thing that ever happened to him by letting her go. The sad thing is she genuinely believes that. But the truth is, Dad never loved Mom. It was a fling that turnedinto me. I know that no matter how much time passes, no matter that he is married to Vanessa—the real love of his life—Mom will never get over Peter Devereux. She loves him. Always has. Always will.
“Perfect. I can’t wait to see you, baby. You will love Knox. He is the best.”
