The Game Changer

Page 36

She chuckled before standing up and making her way into the kitchen. “Well, I only have cereal and toast. That’s gonna have to do.” She popped her head out from behind the cabinets. “Unless you want to go out to eat?”
“No, thanks. Cereal and toast is perfect.”
“Go sit down. I’ll get it.” Melissa shooed me away with her hand, and I made my way to the table.
“You know what I think the worst part about all of this is?” I watched as my tiny best friend balanced bowls, milk, and cereal boxes in her arms.
“That you’re an emotional mess who thinks her life would be better off without Jack Fucking Carter in it?” She cocked an eyebrow in my direction, and I frowned.
“No. Smartass.” I took a deep breath before finishing my thought. “It’s that I’m supposed to stay quiet. While people post all these things and say whatever they want about me and Jack, I’m not supposed to defend myself. And I hate the way that feels because I feel like I’m being bullied in a way, you know?”
“You are kind of being bullied,” she agreed, setting everything on the table before plopping two pieces of bread into the toaster.
“So I feel like by keeping my mouth shut, I’m telling all these people that it’s OK to do the things they’re doing. Like my silence condones their behavior. It doesn’t feel right to keep quiet. It should be OK for me to stand up for myself.” I poured cereal into my bowl until it overflowed onto the table. I picked up the scattered pieces and popped them into my mouth.
“That’s why people in your situation normally have a PR person, or a publicist, or a lawyer on their side. Those people speak out on your behalf. Which brings me to something I want to talk to you about anyway.”
“What?”
“As your personal publicist, it’s my job to—”
I laughed, mocking her tone. “As my personal publicist?”
Her lips narrowed, her eyes squinting. “Give me a break, Cass. If you ever hired someone else to handle your PR, I’d disown you. And so would my mom. I can handle this for you.”
Melissa worked at her mom’s publicity firm in the summers and would join the staff full time as soon as she had her degree in hand. I asked Melissa when we were still in high school why she bothered applying to colleges when she could learn everything she needed to by working with her mom directly. But Meli’s mom insisted she have the college experience and wouldn’t let her start working at seventeen. I remembered her saying, “You have the rest of your life to work, Melissa. Don’t be in such a hurry to get it started. Go live. Have fun. Enjoy college and everything that comes with it.”
I leaned my elbows on the table. “Go on.”
“Well, I was thinking,” she started.
“Always dangerous,” I interrupted.
“Stop interrupting me! This is serious, Cass! I’m trying to help you!” she shouted, her annoyance clearly growing.
I puckered my lips, stifling a chuckle, “I’m sorry. Go on. I won’t say anything.” I marked an X across my chest with my finger.
She breathed out. “OK. So I was thought about this all night and I think it’s brilliant! You and Jack should do some sort of interview together. Like a human-interest story on what it’s like being a professional athlete and for you, what it’s like dating one. And you can address all the Chrystle accusations and lies, as well.”
“Meli, people who lose their house in a flood, or an entire community wiped out by some freak super storm… that’s a human-interest story. Not the girl whining about how hard it is to date an athlete and how mean people are. They’ll only hate me more.”
“Not if it’s done right.” Her bright blue eyes looked into mine, her eyebrows raised.
I shook my head wildly. “We’re not a human-interest story.”
“But you are. Those tabloids wouldn’t sell if people weren’t interested. And trust me, they’re interested.”
My chest tightened. “You think people would care about our side of the story?”
“Hell yes, they’d care! But the story will have two purposes. The first will be to put that little lying bitch in her place. And the second will be your public image.”
“My public image?” I tried to follow, but I was confused.
“If people see you as a real person, with problems just like they have, then maybe they’ll stop being so mean. If they hear about all the things you and Jack have gone through as a couple, they’ll sympathize with you instead of hate you. You won’t be someone who’s unattainable and only seen from a distance. You’ll be relatable. It’s hard to hate the girl you’d be friends with if you knew her.” She smiled, quoting my feelings from last night.
“I don’t know if we’re even allowed to do something like that. I’d have to get permission from the team’s publicity department first. And who the hell would even want to run a story like that?”
Melissa rolled her eyes, my question apparently stupid. “Right now? I bet I could get almost anyone to run that story. But you work for a freaking magazine, Cassie! A human-interest magazine,” she reminded me pointedly.
“But those aren’t the types of stories we print.”
“You mean to tell me your magazine doesn’t ever profile anyone local? Don’t you ever do puff type pieces on New York’s elite?”
I pursed my lips together before responding. “Actually they do. But it’s online only and never in the actual printed version.”
A wide grin appeared on Melissa’s face as her hands clapped together. “That’s fine. Online can be just as effective. Think your boss will go for it?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I do, actually. She mentioned something about it before I left. But I need to talk to Jack first.”
“He’s an easy sell. He’ll do anything if it means keeping you happy.”
Love Makes A Life Worth Living
Cassie
After almost an hour of arguing, I convinced Melissa to drive me over to Gran and Gramps’s house. I still didn’t know why, but she still wanted to keep her distance from Dean, and meeting Gran and Gramps was not part of her master plan.
“Can we stop by the store real quick so I can pick up some wine?”
“Yep. I’ll get some too. I’ll need it,” she suggested, pulling into the supermarket parking lot.
I looked around at how spread out and spacious everything seemed. New York was so compact. I’d forgotten how different Southern California was. And I really missed the palm trees. My heart squeezed as I took in the sight of them.
“You coming?” I asked Meli before shutting the car door.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” She typed out a text before throwing her phone into her glove compartment.
After grabbing two bottles of wine and a small flower arrangement, we headed toward the checkout stand. Pictures of Chrystle and Jack’s wedding suddenly appeared in my vision as the tabloid sat in the wire rack, mocking me. My heart pounded, and I couldn’t step forward; my legs trembled forcefully.
And then another sight caught my eye. More pictures of Jack and Chrystle, feeding cake to each other and posing with their bridal party. “Melissa,” I tried to squeak out, but all sounds failed me.
“Oh shit. Cass. Cassie?”
I turned to face her, my body numb and eyes already tearing up. She scooted our items up on the conveyer belt. “We’ll take these, thanks.”
“Can I see some ID?” the clerk asked, and Melissa thankfully pulled her license from her wallet.
I stared at the newer, more mainstream magazine in horror. Chrystle had sold her story to not only one magazine, but two. What else had she done? “Do you want to grab that?” Melissa asked through my shock.
I managed to shake my head when the clerk said, “Do you know him? Jack Carter? He used to live here, but he plays for the Mets now. Can you believe all the stuff him and his new girlfriend did to that poor girl? It’s crazy. I guess fame makes you do horrible stuff.”
I turned to face her, multiple emotions running through me like a fucking tornado. She gasped as she noticed my face, her mouth twisting into a slight snarl. “Oh my gosh. You’re her! Jack’s girlfriend, Cassie. Right?” Her eyes narrowed with accusation.
I opened my mouth to say God knows what when Melissa rescued me. “What? Cassie lives in New York with Jack. Why the hell would she be here?” She grabbed the receipt, stuffing it in the bag before tugging me by the wrist toward the door.
“Jesus, Cassie.”
I snapped out of my wedding-photo daze. “Sorry.” I apologized, although I wasn’t quite sure what for.
“No.” Meli shook her head. “That was brutal.”
“Welcome to my life.” I extended my hands with a shrug.
My mind raced with thoughts about Chrystle and thoughts about Jack, and how even all the way across the country I couldn’t get away from the media nightmare I now lived in. I wanted to focus on being happy right now, excited to see Gran and Gramps. I let those thoughts take over.
“You’ll love Gran and Gramps, Meli. They’re awesome.” I looked at her, a large fake smile plastered on my face.
“I don’t want to love them,” she responded without even a glance.
“What the hell is wrong with you? After we fix me, we really need to do some work on your dysfunctional ass.”
That garnered a glance. A nasty, wicked one. She pulled her car up to the curb and I hopped out, excited to see the family waiting inside for me. Dean popped his head out from behind the screen door, his eyes meeting mine. I widened mine, and he figured out what I was trying to convey and bolted through the door and to the side of our car.
“I’m glad you came, Melissa.” He smiled at her, grabbing the bag from the store.
“You’ve only been trying to get me here for months.” She turned a pointed glare at me.
What the hell?
“Cassie?” Gran’s voice spilled out from an open window.
“Is the kitten here already?” Gramps voice quickly followed.
I arched my eyebrows at Dean. “The kitten?” I asked with a laugh.
“Don’t ask. He started calling you that after you moved. We think it’s funny, so we never correct him.”
Dean opened the door for us, and as I stepped inside my heart immediately filled with love. Nothing had changed since my last visit, except for the three new black-and-white photographs on the wall.
Melissa pointed at them. “Cass, you took these, right?”
“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile before tossing a quick glance at Dean. I turned my head, noticing one additional new portrait. It was taken the day Jack signed to play for the Diamondbacks. Five people were in the photo, and I was one of them.
“You’re practically family already,” Melissa said as she glanced at the picture.
If a heart could grow in size, mine enlarged on the spot. I’d been more at home here with this family than with the one I was supposed to call my own.