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Tyra laughs, her cheeks pinkening. I raise an eyebrow at Holly and we share a look, wondering the same thing.Does Taylor have a crush on Tyra?No one else notices this awkwardly cute exchange, but Holly and I do.
Tyra and Taylor walk off and start chatting in the corner while I pull Holly aside.
"Um, am I imagining things, or is your sister like totally crushing on Tyra?"
"You're not imagining things. I was thinking the same thing." Holly goes quiet for a moment, looking pensive until I wonder if she's upset.
"Are you okay with it?"
"What? Of course! It's just, Taylor is my sister, and I had no idea she was into women. Does that make me a bad sister?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Holly. How would you know unless you asked?"
"But that's just it. I didn't ask. I just assumed she was into men, like me."
"Talk to her about it later. You're sisters. Be a sister and talk to her. You guys have a lot of catching up to do."
Taylor laughs from across the room, smiling at Tyra. I have to admit they'd make an awfully cute couple. One of those stupidly good-looking couples that blow your mind with how hot and adorable they are—like Holly and Luke. Those two will have the cutest babies on the planet one day. I'm talking alien babies that are so cute they cause brains to melt—I mean that in a non-scary AI Twilight baby way.
The third period is just underway when a tall man walks into the box. He's wearing a designer suit and crocodile shoes. Who the fuck wears shoes like that anymore? He's fit but not an athlete and lanky, not muscly like Ryan or Luke. I can't tell if he's prematurely grey or dyes his hair that colour to look more distinguished. He has a serious Richard Gere vibe, except his mouth is pursed into a tight, unimpressed line. His cool, grey gaze slides over everyone in the room until it lands on Tyra and Taylor. If possible, he frowns even harder, pinching his face together.
"Can I help you?" I ask. "This box is reserved for friends and family of the team."
"I'm looking for Tyra Price," he clips out, and I recognize his voice from the phone this afternoon. "I'm Randy Johnson. Her agent."
"Mr. Johnson, we spoke earlier on the phone. I'm Emerson Avery. How can I help you?"
"You can sign the confidentiality agreement I sent you today."
"That's not going to happen," I smile. "I consider Tyra a friend. She has nothing to worry about from me or anyone else in this room."
"Anyone can be bought, Miss Avery."
Cheers erupt from the crowd and the inside box. The Northmen just scored. Holly's madly Tweeting and taking photos of fans and the scoreboard. Toronto is up by one with less than five minutes to go. Tyra and Taylor are clapping, high-fiving and laughing. Randy's eyes narrow on them as he looks like someone just pissed in his Cheerios.
"What is the big deal?" I whisper, motioning to Tyra and Taylor. "Why can't Tyra be herself? Who cares what or who she does when the cameras turn off?"
"You're naive," Randy hisses at me, leading us outside the box away from everyone else. "This business is all about appearances. I don't care what Tyra does in private as long as it stays private. Do you have any idea how much I've invested in that woman?"
"You don't care about her at all. You only care about your return on investment! She's a human being, not a dollar sign." Randy is an asshole. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. This dude doesn't care one shit about Tyra. He only cares about what she can provide him in terms of income.
"I made Tyra what she is today. She owes everything to me. All I asked her to do was date Ryan a little longer; instead, they broke it off. I need them back together."
"That's not going to happen."
The thought of Ryan and Tyra getting back together, even just for appearances, makes my skin feel like it wants to peel off my body. I shouldn't care. I should encourage him to date other women and find someone else. But I can't. I just can't, and it's killing me inside.
"I'll give you ten thousand dollars to talk some sense into her and stop her from going public."
I shoot Randy an incredulous look. Is he serious? What the fuck?
"Fuck you," I say.
"Twenty-five," he counters. "And another twenty-thousand if you can keep the little trollop away from her." He's talking about Taylor. The pair just met five seconds ago, and this douche nozzle is already jumping the gun and shitting on everything. Taylor is the sweetest, most honest, well-intentioned person I've ever met, other than Holly. She doesn't have a malicious bone in her body. If she and Tyra want to date, that's their business. I would never stand in the way of someone else's happiness.
"Don't you want Tyra to be happy?"
"I know what's best for her. That's why she pays me. I make sure her roles keep coming in. I ensure she has a steady paycheque to pay for her designer clothing and beach house."
