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“We were classmates growing up. He came over as Santa for the benefit of my son.”
“A woman has claimed you and Mr. Bowman are in an intimate relationship, and there are pictures proving he was over for much longer on Christmas Day than it would take to simply drop off some gifts. Is that an accurate characterization of the length of his visit?”
I didn’t know what to say.
My mind raced.
Were there pictures?
What pictures could Donna have?
She did have her cell phone in her hand when she was at the door, but I’m sure I would have noticed if she was taking pictures with it. I definitely didn’t want to say anything that would make Neil to come off poorly.
“Of course Neil was here for awhile on Christmas,” I admitted, switching tactics. “In fact, Neil and I are in love. We’re engaged. The woman is my son’s grandma, and she is very bitter. You should really vet your sources.”
“You are engaged to Neil Bowman?” He didn’t seem convinced.
“That is what I said. I have no further comment.”
As I said that, I realized that “no comment” is what people always say when they don’t want to talk.
Why the hell didn’t I just say that to begin with?
But I knew the answer. I was doing whatever possible to help Neil, because he had helped me realize what true love and trust were all about.
Except now I worried that I had gone and messed things up more for him in my attempt to help him.
Was saying we were engaged a good or bad thing for his reputation?
I thought good but I didn’t understand the world of sports PR enough to know for sure.
I would just have to hope that he would know my intentions were in the right place.
Because I missed his kiss, his touch, his smile… everything about him.
I needed to see him again and to know that he was mine, for real, for always.Chapter 12NeilBecca finally called me, and I was excited about that, despite being upset that she had ignored all my calls for so long.
I wouldn’t put up with that from just anyone. But I knew I had caused a dramatic situation for her and I was trying to be understanding. I wanted one more chance for us to work out, and letting her talk was the only way for that to happen.
But the problem was that she was talking so fast that I could hardly follow what she was saying.
“Becca. What? I’m sorry. Did you say a reporter called you?”
“Neil. I’m trying to tell you. I told him we were engaged to get him off your back with these horrible stories. I think Donna is his source. You can just tell them in a couple of weeks that we broke up or however you want to sell it. I thought this was better than admitting we hooked up and make it look like another one-night stand. Supposedly there are pictures.”
“Becca. How can you say that? You were not anything like a one-night stand, and what could there possibly be pictures of?”
God, I hate the press.
“Look, I don’t want to do this over the phone,” I told her. “We need to make sure to get this right once and for all.”
“Get what right?” she asked, and I knew she was wondering if I was referring to the details of our coverup story.
“You and me,” I told her. “Our relationship. Or, at least, what I would like to be our relationship, if you’d like that too. I’m coming over right now. Is that okay? I can be there within the hour.”
“Yes Neil. I would like that. For you to come over, and for us to have a relationship. I’d like to get you and me right once and for all.”
I grinned so wide I thought my mouth would crack. Then I hurried to head out the door before Becca could change her mind once again.
When I got there, Becca opened the door before I knocked again, but this time she was happy to see me. We sat on the couch, and she explained what the last few days had been like and how she understood that she had been unfair to me, and that she was trying to understand why so that it didn’t happen again.
“You were right. Why would I listen to Cindy or Donna, over you?” she asked me.
“You were just afraid to go for what you really wanted. But that’s all in the past. By the way, I got some answers about how Cindy might have known about my asking you to Prom,” I said.
And I proceeded to tell her about my high school journal and how my mom had suggested Cindy was in my room alone around the time of the breakup.
“Are you kidding me? You kept a journal? Like a diary?”
