Provoking the Punter

Chapter 26

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

Caitlin’s number flashed up on the screen of Chester’s phone. She wasn’t calling about a dinner and the only pap shot she’d be wanting to organize was for Garrett. If he said no, he wasn’t playing the game. If he said yes, he was encouraging the media.

He couldn’t win.

He didn’t want to lose Garrett even though he hated him, and himself for hating him… He hated the whole damn situation and everyone involved.

With a sigh, he picked up the phone and smiled so he didn’t sound annoyed. “Caitlin… how can I help you today?”

“You could’ve returned Garrett’s calls, but since you didn’t, you can deal with me.”

“I wasn’t ready to talk to him, or you, without saying something I may later regret.” He still wasn’t ready, and he knew how this shit worked. They needed to act, and they needed to act fast, but he didn’t want to make a bigger mess when he hadn’t worked through his own shit.

“You’re angry and hurt,” Caitlin said, stating the obvious. “No one likes being blindsided.”

He gave her that point. “I know you’re looking out for him, for the team.” He was collateral. Someone caught up in the drama who now needed to help smooth out the bumps.

“And because I’m looking after Garrett, I’m looking after you.”

Chester let out a bark of a laugh. “You want to keep me on your side.”

“You could’ve told me you were seeing him.”

“It’s new.” He’d only told his friends because he couldn’t ignore them. Not that he’d wanted to tell them anything. Not yet. He didn’t like the invasion of privacy. He’d invited the media into his establishments in the past. He’d done interviews but they were always about his business or being gay or some other hook the media found tasty. Now he was the morsel about to be cut up and devoured for entertainment. And because it involved Garrett, he wasn’t in control. Caitlin was.

“That’s what he said,” she said.

Weren’t they a good little couple, repeating the same story? Even in his head, it sounded snide. Fury and hurt were cutting their way through him. A few hours ago, the anger had been directed at Garrett. Now it was the media in general—all clicks and comments to entertain the masses—and football. The spectators wanted blood and sordid details. They wanted someone to hate and someone to champion. He would not be thrown into that arena for their entertainment.

How dare they want a piece of him?

How dare they take without asking?

How dare they demand more?

“If you have skeletons, you need to tell me…” Caitlin continued.

“So you can cut me out of the picture?” There was a part of him, which wanted to be cut out and forgotten, so he could return to his life. But that was also a lie, because there was no going back. He would forever be linked to Garrett, and Garrett was linked to Harrison, and it all fucking sucked.

“Because it’s easier to work out what angle to take. You know this.” Her voice was calm and reassuring. He counted her as a friend, but right now, this was a little more serious than arranging a “welcome to the team” charity dinner, or any of the other frivolous crap he did because people liked it and it benefited the business.

Garrett didn’t benefit the business.

Garrett didn’t look good on his résumé.

Garrett wasn’t the kind of man he had ever envisioned in his life.

No, everyone he’d been with had always been boring. They had been the brown peahen to his peacock. He was the one fronting the establishment and having the fun. Garrett outshone him. Garrett was better known, though, and like every other man Chester had dated, he was consumed with his career.

Was he jealous because he wasn’t the center of attention? The attention he claimed to hate?

No, it wasn’t jealousy. It was fear, because if the spotlight wasn’t on him, he couldn’t control where it was going.

Chester spun the pen in his fingers. “That’s why this is a problem. People will dig into my life.”

“And what’s there to find? Relative in prison? A kid somewhere?”

“That would be better.” The pen flicked out of his fingers and skated across the floor. He should tell her. She wouldn’t cut him off and making it more difficult for her wasn’t going to help him. “Caitlin, my family was dirt poor. As in, I didn’t have shoes until I went to school. My mother took off when I was a kid because she wanted more, and my father lives in fear of the government. If reporters find him, they’ll get an unhinged rant about how I sold out and went legitimate. If they see the shed, I grew up in…” He drew in a breath. “No one here will speak to me.”

And he’d end up back where he started.

He couldn’t do that. He didn’t think he had the strength to climb out again, especially now he understood how much effort it took.

He’d spent years showing people what he wanted them to see, and they saw what they wanted to see—a successful gay businessman to some and an overly out and obnoxious entrepreneur to others.

He was fun or frivolous, depending on which side of the fence they sat on. He was too pierced, too money hungry, too much to be taken seriously. Chester knew what people said about him, because that’s what they were supposed to say. They were supposed to look at the rings in his eyebrow, lip, and ears. They were supposed to talk about the bar and the distillery while clamoring to book a seat in the restaurant. They were supposed to whisper and speculate about his relationship status.

They were not supposed to enquire about his childhood.

He added Caitlin to the tiny list of three people he’d told the truth to.

“I’ll still talk to you,” she said. She wasn’t old enough to be his mother, but he liked to think sometimes that his mother was like her. Smart, sure of herself, and able to fix any problem.

He wanted to believe her.

“Thank you.” If she’d said she was sorry about his mother or something similar, he’d have hung up. “What is your plan? You always have one.”

“I’ve made a list of the photos I want.” Her tone was all business again, which Chester appreciated. Business he understood. “Most of them are low-key selfie-style photos of you two. Something that can be posted from your account as his is barely used and you’re out and aren’t hiding anything.”

“Everyone is always hiding something.” He’d told Garrett that waiting for the truth to come out wasn’t living. Chester had ran and dodged and thought he’d put enough distance between him and his past, but there was never enough, and he was familiar with the lurking fear. He thought he’d tamed it. Instead, it had caught him. He refused to let that fear drag him home, back to that hovel.

He couldn’t keep running. Which meant he had to dig in and ride this out.

He didn’t have to like it, but he had to do it.

“Send me what you want me to do, and I’ll make sure it happens.” He would do it for both of them.

“I want it done tomorrow,” Caitlin said.

No worries, let me clear my schedule because of someone else’s fuck up. “What’s the bigger problem: the Harrison connection, or that he was photographed with me?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear it from you… because right now I can’t bring myself to call him, even though I should.”

“It’s Harrison… We don’t want the continued speculation. We know who took the photo of you and him, and even though it has turned out to be a blessing in disguise, he has been dealt with.”

Chester sat up. “You had nothing to do with that shot.”

“Do you really think that I wouldn’t have told you first?”

“I had to ask.”

“The photo of you two was taken before the release about the separation.”

“Can I ask who took it?”

“You can ask Garrett.”

Chester laughed; she knew his curiosity would get the better of him. “Well played.”

“So you’re in? Garrett is concerned that you wouldn’t be.”

He winced as the barb hit hard and sunk deep. Garrett didn’t need those doubts weighing on him. He shouldn’t have left him hanging. In part because the less that was said, the more people would fill in the blanks or go searching to fill in the blanks. Control the story. Give people enough that they backed off. “Of course I’m in. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I didn’t, but only because you want to keep your involvement with the team. For someone who doesn’t want any football drama, you are well and truly entangled.”

“Next thing you know, I’ll be turning up at games and sitting with the wives.” Dear God, he didn’t know who he was anymore because the idea of sitting and watching Garrett play was almost tolerable, and he was only on the field for like ten minutes tops per game. He spent longer on the field warming up than he did playing. Meanwhile, he’d have to sit there and make nice with the other families.

Caitlin laughed. “I’ll make sure you have tickets in the family section for the next home game.”

He had friends who would appreciate those seats. If he went, he’d be checking out the other players’ asses and rating them against Garrett’s perfect ten, just so that he didn’t fall asleep and start snoring. “I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Would you like me to get on a plane for your next away game, too?” His tone came out a little sharp.

Caitlin scoffed. “You have a business to run. No one expects you to drop everything because you’re dating a player.”

No, but he needed to play the game they wanted him to play. “How long until this dies down?”

“I don’t know. I have been told Mrs. Harrison is livid.”

“Is that from inside sources?”

“Yes, however, I have also been told that she is now aware it was not an affair, but a series of infidelities.”

“Well, that makes it so much better, considering she led with the affair and her timing was immaculate.”

“Garrett said the same thing, so I followed up. I’ve just emailed you the list of photos.”

Chester sighed and opened the email. “You’re sending a photographer?”

“I know you don’t like this and that you’re not speaking to Garrett at the moment, but we’re all on the same team.”

“That’s why I haven’t called him. I didn’t want to make it worse. Plus, he has things to do. He said Mondays are a big day.” She made a noise and Chester pressed on. “I will call him, but I want to make sure that I’m not going to lose my shit. He doesn’t need that. I am on his side and trying to do what is best for him and the team. And don’t tell me that we’re family.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t dare tell you that because I know you don’t want to be part of the football family. Call me if you have questions, or if you need anything, or if you see a post that is troubling.”

More troubling than what was currently out there? What was the benchmark for troubling? Troubling to him, troubling to Garrett, troubling to the team? Where were the lines?

“Sure. I’m assuming you’re going to speak to Garrett and tell him I’m on board. Can you tell him I don’t return calls when I’m…” He didn’t want to use the word furious because that wasn’t quite right. He was scared. “Just tell him I needed some time.”

“I will. Good luck.”

He wasn’t sure it was luck he needed. But if that’s all he was getting, he could do quite a lot with a little luck and a lot of charm.