Chapter 14 #2
"Fine. Good. It's..." I trailed off, my usual smooth PR deflections failing me.
This was Coco, after all – Logan's girlfriend, an Olympic athlete, and probably the only woman in my social circle who understood the unique pressures of the intersection of professional sports and media. "It's complicated," I finished lamely.
"I bet," she said with a sympathetic nod.
"Must be weird having your relationship so public all of a sudden.
Trust me, I get it. When Logan and I first started dating, I felt like every move we made was being analyzed by the entire hockey community.
The entire figure skating community. The entire universe. .."
I nodded, grateful for her understanding but also acutely aware that her relationship with Logan was genuine, while mine with Cam was... what, exactly? The lines were blurring more each day.
A commotion on the ice drew our attention to the window. Logan had apparently scored on a drill, and the players were celebrating with exaggerated cheers and stick taps. Cam was in the middle of it, laughing as he gave Logan a congratulatory head tap with his gloved hand.
"Look at them," Coco remarked fondly. "They're basically overgrown children,"
I found myself smiling, my gaze fixed on Cam as he lined up for the next drill. "They really are."
"Hey, where are you sitting tomorrow night?"
"Probably in the WAGs box unless I get a better offer."
"Want to sit with me in the VIP box? I've got the Redline folks coming in, and the food will be better."
"I'm in," Coco said casually. "So...how was the family beach weekend? Logan mentioned you guys drove back this morning and got caught in that mess on the Skyway."
"It was..." I hesitated, searching for a neutral descriptor. "Interesting."
Coco raised an eyebrow. "That's PR-speak for 'total disaster' or 'completely amazing but I don't want to admit it.' Which one?"
I laughed despite myself. "Neither. Both. It was just... not what I expected."
"In what way?"
I glanced toward my office door, which stood slightly ajar. Rising from my desk, I crossed the room and closed it softly before returning to my seat.
"Can I tell you something in confidence?" I asked, lowering my voice.
Coco's expression turned serious. "Uh, yes."
"Like, I signed an NDA and this could wreck my career confidence?"
"Always," she said.
I took a deep breath, suddenly desperate to confide in someone who might understand. "The engagement isn't real. It just looks real. It's a PR move to help Cam secure the Redline deal."
To her credit, Coco didn't look particularly shocked. She merely nodded thoughtfully. "I had a feeling."
"What? How?" I asked, surprised.
She shrugged, her eyes kind but knowing. "First, Logan is constantly saying you and Cam would be perfect together if you would only get out of your own way, and I happen to know Cam's had a massive crush on you for a while."
"How long is a while?"
"Um, forever. Let's just say that in real life, the Hitman is more of a one-hit wonder," she smiled. "At least when it comes to love. He has it bad for you."
"No, he..."
"Also, something about the timing seemed awfully convenient.
Plus, Logan mentioned it happened very suddenly.
And..." She gave me a meaningful look. "You've spent the last year I’ve known you pretending Cam Murphy doesn't exist except when you have to manage his image.
Or when you've had more than one margarita. Like at our party last summer."
"That's not true," I protested automatically. "We work together all the time."
"Uh-huh. And you maintain about fifty feet of professional distance at all times." She leaned forward, her expression turning gentle. "So what changed? Why agree to fake an entire relationship? That's a pretty extreme PR strategy, even for the Hitman."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Redline was ready to walk away just days before the announcement. His agent suggested a PR relationship to rehabilitate his image."
"And he asked you?" Coco looked intrigued. "Out of all the women in Tampa who would literally lie down in traffic for a chance with Cam Murphy, he asked his team publicist? The woman who, as far as I can tell, has spent years perfecting the art of professional disinterest around him?"
Put that way, it did sound strange. "It made sense for the optics," I explained. "I know how to handle the media, I understand the hockey world, and I'm..." I faltered.
"You're what?" Coco prompted.
"Safe," I finished. "I'm a safe choice. No messy emotional complications."
Coco's skeptical expression was almost comical. "Right. And how's that working out for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Lana," she said patiently, "you've been staring out that window at Cam every time there's a break in our conversation. And you haven't stopped fidgeting with that ring since I walked in."
Caught, I self-consciously placed both hands flat on my desk. "It's just – it's become a habit."
"Mmm-hmm." She didn't sound convinced. "So tell me about the beach trip with your family. How was that?"
"Complicated," I admitted. "My parents think it's real. So does the rest of my family. Only Zayne knows the truth."
"And sharing a room with Cam? How was that?" Her tone was light, but her eyes were astute.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks, remembering how I'd woken up with his arm draped over me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath warm against my neck. "Fine. Professional. We maintained boundaries."
"Right." Coco nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "And nothing happened that made you question those boundaries? Not even once?"
The memory of Cam's arms around me as we'd fallen asleep, the intensity in his eyes as he'd nearly kissed me on the bridge, the way my heart had raced when he'd confessed that no one after me had ever come close – all of it rushed through me in a wave of confusion.
"It's complicated," I repeated, feeling suddenly defensive.
"When did it stop being fake for you?" Coco asked quietly.
I stared at her, caught off guard by the directness of the question. "I – what? It's still fake."
"Is it, though?" She tilted her head, studying me. "Because from here, it looks like something real is happening. Maybe something that's been brewing for a while."
"That's…" I started to deny it, but the words stuck in my throat.
With sudden clarity, I realized I didn't want to lie to Coco.
Maybe I needed someone to talk to, someone who might understand the complex emotions swirling inside me.
"I don't know what's happening," I admitted finally. "It's all getting... muddled."
"Let me guess," she said gently. "You're starting to have genuine feelings, or maybe acknowledging feelings that were already there. But you're terrified of what happens when this arrangement inevitably ends."
I looked at her, startled by her accuracy. "Are you secretly a therapist?"
She laughed. "No. But I did spend the better part of a season fighting my feelings for a certain hockey captain because I was convinced it would be a disaster. Sound familiar?"
I sighed, slumping back in my chair. "Maybe. A little."
"Tell me something," Coco said, her voice softening. "What was it like with your family?"
The question caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, how did it feel to see him interacting with your parents, your brothers... seeing him in your childhood home, or swimming with your nieces and nephews?"
Images flashed through my mind: Cam laughing with my father over fishing stories, helping my mother carry groceries from the car, getting soaked in an impromptu pool wrestling match with Zayne, his patient hands executing Emma's creative vision as we built a sandcastle tower.
The warm glow in my chest at seeing him fit so seamlessly into my world, as if he'd always belonged there.
"It felt..." I swallowed hard, surprised by the emotion welling in my throat. "It felt right. Like he'd always been there."
Coco nodded, as if I'd confirmed something she already knew. "And what about the ring? The first time you put it on, what did you think?"
I glanced down at the sapphire. "I thought it was beautiful. Too beautiful for a PR stunt, honestly. I figured it was a loaner from his agent."
"Did you ask?"
"No," I admitted. "I didn't want to know."
"Because if it was real, that would mean something," she replied. "Or if it wasn't real, that would mean something too."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"This isn't fake anymore. You know that, right?" Coco's direct statement hit like a punch to the gut.
"I can't..." I shook my head. "There's so much riding on this.
The Redline deal is worth millions to Cam and would be huge for the team.
My professional reputation. My relationship with Zayne.
My family's expectations now that they think we're engaged.
" I gestured helplessly. "It's all too complicated. "
"Maybe what's really at stake isn't your job or the deal," Coco suggested. "Maybe what's at stake is your heart, and that's what's really scaring you."
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. Was she right? Was I hiding behind professional concerns to avoid confronting my real fears?
"Here's a scary question," Coco said, leaning forward. "What happens after the deal is signed? When the PR stunt has served its purpose? Have you two even talked about that?"
We hadn't, not really. The plan had been vague – maintain the appearance of a relationship for a respectable period, then stage an amicable, private breakup. Simple in theory, but the thought now made my chest ache.
"Sort of," I admitted. "We've been more... living in the moment."
"Most fake relationships have a clear end date," Coco observed. "At least, according to all my favorite Priscilla Oliveras romances. Yours seems to be getting more entangled, not less."
Before I could formulate a response, a commotion from below indicated practice was wrapping up.
I glanced out the window to see the players exiting the ice, Cam among them.
As if sensing my gaze, he looked up toward my office, our eyes meeting across the distance.
Even from here, I could see his smile, a private one meant just for me.
My heart performed a completely unprofessional somersault in my chest.
Coco, who had turned to follow my gaze, let out a soft laugh.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." She stood, gathering her bag.
"Look, I'm not saying it's simple. But from someone who nearly talked herself out of the best thing that ever happened to her – don't let fear of the unknown stop you from exploring something real. "
"It's not that simple," I protested weakly.
"It never is," she agreed. With a small wave, she slipped out the door, leaving me alone with thoughts I'd been trying very hard to avoid.
I sat in silence for several long minutes, turning over Coco's words in my mind. This isn't fake anymore. You know that, right? The simple statement had cracked open something I'd been desperately trying to keep contained.
My phone buzzed with a text message.
CAM: Dinner tonight? Need to strategize about tomorrow's practice media availability.
I stared at the message, reading between the lines. "Strategize." Right. We both knew that was just an excuse to spend more time together. A professional pretext that would allow us to maintain the fiction that this was still just about work.
Part of me – the rational, professional part – knew I should suggest a quick call instead. Set firmer boundaries. Keep things strictly business.
But another part – the part that couldn't stop remembering how it felt to wake up in his arms, to feel his thumb tracing circles on my palm under the blanket during the bonfire, to see the vulnerability in his eyes as he told me no one else had ever come close – wanted nothing more than to say yes.
I glanced again at the ring on my finger, at the way the sapphire caught the light. This wasn't fake anymore.
Maybe it never was.
With a deep breath, I typed my reply:
ME: 7 PM. And don't get any bright ideas about breaking curfew the night before our season opener.
His response came almost immediately:
?? + ??
I smiled at the screen like an idiot.
Setting my phone down, I turned back to my computer, determined to at least attempt productivity for the rest of the afternoon. But Coco's words echoed in my mind, impossible to silence:
Maybe what's really at stake is your heart.