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Dwayne scooted over to Jake, who was sitting forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees, his teeth pressed against his knuckles nervously.Damn, he’s gone,Dwayne thought. “You okay, dude?”
Jake quickly drew away his hand from his mouth, laying it on his forehead. “Yeah, just gotta massive headache…”
“Cut the shit! You’re gone for that girl, so far gone−so maybe you better figure out whatever it is you need to come to terms with…” Dwayne and Jake both looked at Jake’s phone, buzz, buzz, buzz repeatedly. “Get that, it’s annoying.”
Jake grabbed his phone.
Sylvia:Jake! You said I would get to break this story!...Send
Sylvia:Levi??...Send
Sylvia:This is iconic…she’s wearing the white jacket…Send
Sylvia:I want the first ‘we’re a couple’ interview…Send
Sylvia:Deal?…Send
Jake shook his head from exasperation.
Jake:We’re not a couple…Send
Levi nodded, agreeing with Rakell. “I think the Jensen family appreciates that, Rakell. Can you expand on why you were cheering for Jake Skyler? The speculation is that you two are a couple.”
Jake watched as she cleared her throat, followed by a small swallow as if working out her next statement. “I can confirm that Jake Skyler and I are not a couple,” she said, pulling the side of her lip into her mouth.
Jake let out an audible sigh, ignoring the eyes he could feel lasering into him from across the room and the repeated buzzing of his phone.
Levi prodded, “But you did jump up and down, cheering for Jake, and you were wearing the same white jacket that you are wearing right now, which his fans have labeled the lucky jacket.” Levi, Lana, and Rakell’s agent wanted her to wear the white jacket during the interview since it had become a staple of the Sacramento female fans.
Finally, Rakell smiled.
Jake absorbed the metamorphosis transpiring through the screen, the confidence streaming back into her, which he’d come to recognize as a sign of something witty to come from her smart-ass mouth. “Yes, I am a Jake Skyler fan and, well…I got carried away at the San Antonio game because he’s an Austin boy that I met at the gym, and I know he’s a good guy…”
“That’s it? He’s a good guy,” Levi smiled wryly, arching an eyebrow at the camera. “You jumped up and down in the owner’s box because Jake Skyler is from Austin, and you think he’s agood guy…both are true, but…I think America suspects it’s more than that.”
“Jesus, Levi, go light on her!” Jake blurted out, his eyes fixed on the TV.
Then she lifted her chin, her lips parting into a wide grin, her eyes staring right into the camera.There she is, Jake thought.
“Well, the truth is,” she began, “I have a massive crush on Jake Skyler; however, I am well aware that I am just one of thousands of women who see stars when they think about Mr. Skyler…” she said coyly, but Jake saw her smirk lurking behind the soft smile and her eyes doing their signature jig.
Levi nodded his head. “Yep, you are part of a big club. So if you were able to say something to Jake Skyler, what would his personal cheerleader say to him?”
“Um, well that I love watching him play, and I’ll continue to follow him and be his biggest cheerleader.” Her eyes directly focused on the camera. “No matter where my career goes, I will remember that he helped inspire me,” she said softly, looking back at Levi.
“I think Jake Skyler and Dwayne Bradshaw have inspired a lot of us to dream big. Speaking of big dreams…” Levi grabbed a magazine. “I got my hands on the early edition that will hit the stands Monday, and you, Rakell, are on the cover.”
“Yes, it was a big surprise.”
Levi turned the magazine toward himself, shook his head, mouthing,Wow, then turned it toward the camera, which zoomed in on the picture of Rakell. “This is quite an accomplishment.”
Jake wasn’t sure what was said after that…the picture of her fixed in his mind with the white-blond hair blowing around her, positioned on her knees atop a large boulder next to a blue lagoon wearing a skimpy swimsuit, her mouth lax…and then herwords, ‘I have a massive crush on Jake Skyler,’ she fucking said that on TV.
Chapter Twenty-One
Later that afternoon, back home, Jake lay on the couch with Dolly nestled beside him, staring up at the ceiling. The hangover tentacles that had infiltrated the gray matter of his brain were finally retracting, easing the pain pulsing in his temples. Dwayne’s depiction of his dad bore down heavily on Jake’s psyche, with a surreal comprehension of how tilted the scales are for so many people, folks who would do anything for their families. That thought hung around him all day…along with the blatant fact that Dwayne’s dad hadn’t had a choice. More accurately, all of the cards dealt to him had resulted in a losing hand, so his options were grim. He’d chosen the one that would save his family.
The first time he’d come upon the concept of there being no way out for someone, that every card they had was a loser, stuck with him. It was kinda the story behind the bronze sculpture, Widow Maker, that sat as the focal point in the middle of his favorite bar at The Driskill Hotel. It depicted a runaway horse with a cowboy’s foot caught in the stirrup. He’d been only eight when he stood next to it under the stained-glass dome that cast a yellowish essence of light onto the bronze statue…he remembered staring at it, studying it, craning his neck back so he could stare at the domed stained-glass ceiling, which seemed like something out of history that someone had preserved; in his young mind, it had to be at least a hundred years old. He had felt his dad’s hand cupping his shoulder. “Son, it’s almost time for the tour. You’ll get to learn all about this historic hotel.”
