SADIE: It would help if you told me something about you?
MAVERICK: I’m from up north. No family. Baseball is my life. Noallergies.
SADIE: Wow, I feel like I know you so well…
MAVERICK: Sarcasm isn’t a good look for you Specs.
SADIE: Don’t call me that. Anyway, moving on. How did we meet?
MAVERICK: Don’t care. Make it up. I hate text messages by the way.
I stare at my phone, wanting to scream and hit something. He’s worse than my younger brother at communicating, and that’s saying something since Simon communicates mostly in grunts.
I avoided contacting Maverick all weekend, needing a day to wrap my head around everything. But when I woke up today and realized I wouldn’t be heading into the office, I knew I couldn’t put everything off any longer.
Getting things started with Maverick is the only way out of this mess, and two days trapped in this crappy apartment worried the vultures that found me at work would find me anywhere, has me going crazy. To say nothing of the guilt I feel, as I ignore the pull to check my phone for anymore headlines and the curious calls and messages from the few family and friends I actually care about.
Honestly, that second part has been the hardest. I hate lying, abhor it, really. Which is going to make talking to my family and friends painful. But Maverick insisted that no one can know. Ihaven’t had the guts to tell him that Ali already knows… But since his agent-brother person does, I figure it’s all fair.
My phone pings with a new text message. I let myself glance at who sent it, and when I see who it is, I click immediately to open.
WILLOW: Girl! Care to share why I came back from a weekend away with my family to have the mother of all news bombs dropped in my lap?
WILLOW: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?! Setting aside the whole, I’m head of media relations and this kinda stuff is literally my job to know, I thought we were friends… How could you not say you started dating one of my guys. I’m not mad, promise. Just surprised. Meet me at the diner by the stadium for lunch?
SADIE: The one the players go to?
I chew on my thumbnail as I wait for her to answer. On one hand, I’d love to see her. But I also have to keep up the lie. And there’s the media to contend with…
WILLOW: Yep. The owner, Maura, is great at keeping any press far away, she’s got a zero tolerance rule. You’ll be safe from the cameras.
Well, that’s reassuring. And I guess I can’t avoid her forever.
SADIE: Okay. See you around noon?
WILLOW: It’s a date. Can’t wait to hear ALL ABOUT IT!
I groan to myself. Freaking Maverick and his inability to hold a conversation. I have no idea what to say to Willow. What kind of a story to spin. And he’s useless. I debate texting Colin since Maverick gave me his number as well. But no, I’m going to have to figure this out on my own.
At least I have a good reason to leave my apartment. And if anyone can handle the press, should it be needed, it’s Willow.
When I reach the diner that’s right next to the Tridents’ stadium an hour later, Willow is waving at me from inside, a huge smile on her face. I walk in, hoping I don’t look as deer-in-the-headlights as I feel.
“Oh my God, I am in shock!” Willow says by way of greeting, dragging me in for a hug when I reach the booth. “You tamed Maverick King. Wonders will never cease.”
It baffles me how she could possibly believe it’s all real, but as we sit down, I see the excitement on her face, and I have to reconcile that what seems insane to me isn’t that way to everyone else.
“I wouldn’t say I tamed him,” I start slowly, and Willow giggles.
“Of course not. Where’s the fun in that?” Her expression sobers as she reaches one hand across the table to cover mine. “In all seriousness, I’m glad someone as good and kind as youmanaged to see the real Maverick. He’s not what the media portrays him to be, but so few people bother to find that out.”
My eyes widen. “I…I know. He’s a bad boy with a moral code,” I blurt out, repeating what I said to Maverick in my office last week. And Willow throws her head back in laughter.
“Oh my God, yes. That’s exactly it. It took me a while to see it, but Uncle Mike always did. That’s why he’s had such a hard time trying to decide what to do with Mav. I mean” — Willow leans forward, her voice dropping low — “Mav’s recklessness can’t continue, even if those of us that know him realize it’s coming from a good place. It’s not prudent for the team to be seen supporting it or even allowing it. But the last thing we want to do is abandon him. He’s a good guy and a great player. He just needs to stop making dumb decisions.”
I nod along with her, pretending I know exactly what she’s talking about. But inside, my head is spinning. I’m realizing I truly have no clue what I’ve gotten myself into.
A waitress comes over and takes our orders, and as soon as she leaves, Willow leans back in. “Alright, spill. When did you two start dating? Wait, did you meet at the hospital?” Her hands lift to cover her heart. “That’s so romantic.”
