Charlotte
I shut the door to my hotel room and slide down the door.
No matter how long I’m inside, my body can’t seem to get warm.
I’m not sure whether it’s a symptom of my current mental state or from standing in the snow for more than three hours.
Chris kept texting me pictures of the hot chocolate they were drinking in the suite.
I can tell you this: it was not helpful.
Not that I think he was trying to be helpful. He’s my brother who was trying to antagonize me rather than let me feel anxious about the fact the Stallions were losing.
That they did lose.
I’ve been barely holding it together since Thursday night, and I simply cannot anymore.
I wrap my arms around my shins, resting my forehead on my knees as a silent sob breaks free.
My therapist likes to make me name the emotions I’m feeling, which usually fall somewhere between “insecure that everything I have in life is due to my father rather than my own work,” and “frustrated that my team isn’t executing something in the exact same way I would. ” Or “like a complete boss bitch.”
I’m a complex woman, able to feel many things at once.
Right now, though? Now I feel sad.
No, not sad.
Devastated.
And I can’t even listen to my “Buck Up, Buttercup” playlist because every time I open my app, I see the playlist I made for Callan. And it makes me feel hollow.
I want to cuddle up in bed with him and make him hold me while I cry. It’s painfully unfair that falling for someone means that, when they hurt you, the person you’re upset with is also the only one you want to make you feel better.
Too bad no one told me that before I fell hard and fast for the man I was fake dating.
A text comes through from Addie in our group chat with Sage and Finley.
Addie
Sorry the Stallions got the L.
Sage
Welcome to the losers club.
Finley is in season, so we likely won’t hear from her today… possibly not until June.
I might not have the man I want, but I have three of the best friends a girl could ask for. And maybe that’s who I need in my life right now.
I’m crying before Addie even answers the video call.
Her eyes are wide. “Holy shit, Char. Are you okay?”
My face in the corner is red, tears leaking from my eyes.
“Is this because of the game? Did your dad give Chris the company? Because that is unfair. You had nothing to do with this season. This whole stupid thing is unfair. Your dad is an idiot for even doing this. You and Chris are a great team. Why would he force you two to do this?”
I sniffle. “It’s not the game. Or the company. Though neither is good.”
“Okaaay. Where’s Callan?”
“Gone,” I wail, grief pouring through me with more force than the storm outside.
Addie runs her hand through her strawberry-blonde hair, clearly trying to figure out how to help her sobbing friend from halfway across the country.
“Okay, honey. What do you mean, gone? As in, ‘is upset they lost the game and is drinking his sorrows away at the bar’ gone, or ‘died in a tragic car accident between the stadium and your hotel’ gone? Because you’re giving car-accident vibes. ”
I suck in a snotty sniffle. “He found out fucking Hugo is considering trading him and doesn’t want to spend time with me anymore.”
“Wait, what?”
I tell her everything. She listens patiently as I sob while telling her how lonely I was, sleeping in the guest bed, how I cried yesterday morning when I carried armfuls of clothes out of our closet.
How I spewed nonsense about Callan needing to focus when I sat at the front of the plane and then asked for my own room at the hotel.
How it feels like we’re getting a divorce, which is ridiculous because we weren’t ever truly married…
or together even. And it’s that last part that makes me want to curl up into a little ball and never come out again.
Because it felt like we were together. To me, at least.
“And the way he said ‘Princess,’ like it was a curse word,” I start sobbing again. “It’s like an axe to the chest every time I think about it.”
“Well, stop thinking about it!” Addie practically hollers, her Texas twang standing out.
“I can’t. It’s on repeat in my head. And it’s all my fault.
” I truly can’t. The way he said Princess continues to crush me.
It, more than my clothes in his closet, more than my toothbrush by his sink, was how I knew things between us had truly changed to be something more, and it wasn’t all in my head.
But then they changed back.
Addie shakes her head. “No. It’s not your fault.
You know you couldn’t have told him about the possible trade, even if you were on board with it.
That’s confidential information, and you, as owner, can’t go around telling players they’re about to be traded.
It’s probably what Hugo wanted you to do, just so he could prove you were unfit to lead. ”
That may be true, but it doesn’t make it any less real that I hurt the man who goes out of his way to help everyone else. “He was so upset.”
There’s a moment of silence, apparently neither one of us is sure what can or should be said to make this better. Or maybe it’s that there is no making it better.
“Do you think there is any way to salvage this?” Addie finally asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. And even if there was, Hugo is on a warpath to trade him.
He specifically said he didn’t want to be lying next to me, thinking about whether I was texting someone about trading him.
I can’t ask him to stay with me anyway, just because I decided to develop feelings for my fake boyfriend. ”
“I’m sorry, Char. I wish I knew what to tell you, but we both know this is out of my wheelhouse. My luck with relationships is so bad, I swear, someone got an Etsy witch to curse me.”
I let out a snotty laugh. “Always an idea to consider. Maybe you should hire one to curse stupid Levi.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Meh. I’ve realized he’s not worth an Etsy witch.”
“Too true.” My phone vibrates with a text from my assistant. “Hey, I’ve got to go. I need to call that potential sponsor I was telling you about.”
“Okay, but when you get back, we’re having a girls’ night.
We’ll hang out and have fun. You can escape Callan’s house and all the awkwardness that’s sure to come from continuing to live with the guy you were fake dating, who you were then sleeping with and developed feelings for, who you’re still fake dating and still have feelings for, but you’re no longer sleeping with—”
“I think we get it, Addie.”
“Do we? Because I’ve been along for this entire saga, and I’m still not one hundred percent sure I do.”
I flash her my middle finger. “Girls’ night,” I promise.
After I hang up with Addie, I splash some cold water on my face, grateful that this call with Preston Hale isn’t on video when I see my swollen eyes and puffy nose. But the fact that he asked to talk to me the night after our loss? Not good.
Not good at all.
I take a few deep breaths, forcing myself to stay composed. Luckily, I’m good at pulling my shit together when it comes to work. My personal life? Not so much.
Finally, I dial the number I was given for Preston Hale.
“Hello?”
I force myself to smile, knowing people can hear it through the phone. Though, for the record, Mr. Hale is certainly not smiling. “Hello, Mr. Hale. It’s Charlotte Langford. I was told you wanted to speak with me.”
“Thank you for returning my call, Charlotte.” His tone is hard, like I’ve somehow offended him. “I’ll cut right to the chase. I received some information today, and I wanted to let you know I’m no longer interested in a sponsorship deal with the Stallions.”
My stomach drops to the fucking floor. I knew it was coming, but knowing something and hearing it are two completely different things. But he’s still on the phone, so I’m still in the game. And I can’t take another loss tonight.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you mind me asking why?
I know the game today didn’t have the ending we were all hoping for, but these things do happen.
And we are looking forward to a fantastic season next year.
We’ve got a great coaching staff and players who have…
” I’ve let go and let God at this point.
No one knows what words are coming out of my mouth.
“Charlotte.” His voice breaks through my monologue.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but it’s not about the game today.
I was informed that you all are looking to trade Callan Devine.
And frankly, I’m not interested in being involved with a team that would do that, let alone someone who would trade their own boyfriend. ”
I take another deep breath, trying to refrain from unloading my whole situation on Preston. He doesn’t respect me trading Callan? He won’t respect me if I tell him about my fucking tornado of a professional life, let alone the dumpster fire that is my relationship with Callan.
Being called an emotional woman would be the least of my concerns.
“I’m not sure where you got your information from, Mr. Hale, but no trade offers are in the works regarding Callan.”
There’s a pause, as if this is news to him. “I heard from a very reputable source that your GM has approached two different teams.”
This time, I’m the one speechless. Would Hugo do that without consulting me?
Fuck. He would. But did my dad know and not say anything?
“Our GM is talking to teams about possible trades all the time, Mr. Hale. I’m sure you understand that our goal is to have the best team possible.
While I understand that you are a fan of Callan’s, if you are only interested in this sponsorship because of him, we likely aren’t a great fit—whether or not Callan is on the field for us next year. ”
Preston chuckles. “You know, for such a small little thing, you’re not too bad at this whole business thing.”
Is that supposed to be… a compliment? If so, truly terrible.
Deciding to simply ignore it, I mentally shove down my panic for long enough to say, “If you change your mind about wanting to partner with the Stallions, please feel free to reach back out. If not, I completely understand. Goodnight, Mr. Hale.”
I drop down on the edge of my bed, my head heavy as I massage my eyes with the heels of my hands.
My heart hurts from the blows it’s taken the past few days.
This is a major setback. For me, yes, but for the team as a whole.
And if Hugo really has been making calls…
My blood boils at the thought. I’m fucking sick and tired of that man.
And the only thing more dangerous than a woman who is being ignored is one who has been backed into a corner at rock bottom.
And after losing Callan and the one sponsor I still had on the line?
This is fucking rock bottom.