“I can’t believeold Sherlock still works.” Cory laughed through stretched breaths.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Jamie said, doubled over and clutching his ribs. “Though, I ought to ream you out. You were gonna let them double-team me if I didn’t call an audible.”
“Sorry, I’m a happily married man,” Cory said, his caramel cheeks stained pink with amusement. Slowly, he waved his gold wedding band in Jamie’s face.
In return, Jamie held up his bare left hand before flipping him off.
Cory swatted Jamie’s hand away as they approached the bar for another round. “You’re right. I know you’ve been on a cold streak, but you didn’t deserve that.”
“What do you mean cold streak? I’m thirty years old, practically live at my father’s house, and I get to binge all the bad reality TV I want. I’m livin’ good.”
They clinked their beer bottles, laughing.
Jamie took a sip. If tonight went the way he needed, there’d be plenty more beer in his future. He and Cory used to share tube socks and bunk beds. But now, he needed some honest-to-goodness advice.
“You ever needed to tell somebody something, but you didn’t know how?”
Cory smirked. “No, I’m not available to end your cold streak, but I’m touched.” He stopped laughing when Jamie’s expression grew solemn. He clasped Jamie’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
Jamie caught him up about Brinton’s arrival and his father extending his “songwriting” deal. Outside of his team, Cory was the only person who knew about his father’s control and the ensuing lies bundled with it. He’d supported him in spite of it, and Jamie was grateful.
“I want to tell Brinton my plans to go out on my own, and soon,” Jamie said.
Cory knit his heavy brows together. “Shit, that’s a hell of a landmine.”
“This article might be my only shot to start over. But I need to do it in a way that I can still protect myself. In case…”
“Shit goes sideways? You know that’s a real possibility, right? Telling a journalist the one secret that can destroy everything.”
Jamie swallowed hard. He’d been avoiding that truth: that this article wouldn’t be the redemption he yearned for. It could end up worse.
“Yeah, I know.”
“But you trust her?”
“I want to. I think, if I talk to her, and show her I’m serious about this, I can trust her.”
Cory scratched his stubble. “When?”
“Tonight.”
“Lordy, Crawford,” he exclaimed, hands flying out to his sides. He rested his chin against his knuckles.The Thinkersculpture in real life.
“Okay, take her somewhere so y’all can be alone. Too many bystanders here. Then, make her feel comfortable. Spin it like you can both benefit from working together.”
Jamie nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too.”
“It’ll help her see you as a person, not some celebrity she’s writing about for a paycheck,” Cory added. “Which youneedfor this to work. And when you tell her, ease into it. Wait for the right moment.”
“How do I know when it’s the right moment? I’m running out of runway.”
“No clue, brother. But you’ll know. It’s sink or swim.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Sure, that seems easy enough.”
Cory grinned. “Because that’s the easy part. The hard part? You gotta keep her away from your daddy. If he finds out what you’re up to?—”
“I know.”
