Chapter Three #2
“Timing it with Pride Month just made sense and Cash was already planning on donating to The Trevor Project so really, it
wasn’t—”
“Poppy.” A tiny thrill shot through her at the way her name sounded when Rosaline said it in that trademark Lauren Bacall–style
rasp, her lips pressing and parting before coming back together as her mouth shaped the word. “Take the compliment. I don’t
give them out very often.”
Poppy felt like she was glowing, like she’d swallowed the sun, the rarity of Rosaline’s praise making it all the more precious.
“Thank you. That—that means a lot. Especially coming from you.”
Rosaline’s lips parted as she sucked in a stuttered breath, her face frustratingly unreadable as she rested her forearms against
the counter. “Be honest with me, one professional to another. What’s your angle right now?”
“Angle?” Poppy frowned. “I don’t have an angle.”
Rosaline sighed and shook her head, looking the picture of disappointment. It was a look Poppy knew well. “And here you were
doing so well, Poppy.”
If that was meant to be a compliment, it sure as hell didn’t feel like one.
“Seriously. I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about.
” Hair escaped the bun at the nape of her neck when she shook her head.
“I don’t—you told me to take the compliment and I meant what I said.
You’re so clearly amazing at your job and so—so confident and I .
. . I admire you, I guess.” Her cheeks burned, but she soldiered on, needing to get this out, needing Rosaline to understand.
“That sounds annoyingly juvenile when I say it out loud, but I do. I don’t have an angle; I just genuinely appreciate you saying what you said.
It meant a lot.” Even if the praise felt tainted now, all tangled with sour uncertainty.
Rosaline stared, eyes wide and mouth agape, looking as wrong-footed as Poppy felt. “I was talking about Cash and Lyric, but
okay? Thank you.”
Oh. “Well. I don’t have an angle there, either.”
Rosaline tipped her face up to the ceiling, lips moving as if silently praying for strength. “Look,” she said, lowering her
head and assessing Poppy, expression pinched. “I said I wanted you to be honest with me—”
“I am,” Poppy blurted. Painfully honest was all she’d been since the moment she stepped out of the car. “I have been. I have
no ulterior motives and neither does Cash.”
Rosaline scoffed softly. “Forgive me if I’m struggling to believe he wasn’t chasing clout with that public tweet.”
Poppy sat straighter, hackles rising, and glared. “He’s got 1.4 million followers. He doesn’t need clout.”
“And Lyric has 95 million. Do the math.”
Poppy didn’t need to do any math to know the numbers were irrelevant to what Rosaline was implying. “You’re suggesting Cash
is using Lyric.”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Rosaline said, matter of fact. “It’s happened before and I’m not so naive as to believe someone won’t try it again.
Operative word being try this time.”
“And I’m telling you Cash isn’t that kind of guy. I’ve known him since I was five. I think that makes me uniquely qualified
to speak on his character.”
“Or uniquely biased,” Rosaline argued, and Poppy rolled her eyes.
Figures she’d have a rebuttal. “Even you have to admit Cash Curran doesn’t have the greatest track record when it comes to relationships.
” She braced her hands against the countertop, slightly farther than shoulder width apart.
“Has he ever been in a relationship that’s lasted longer than a year? ”
“Has Lyric?”
Rosaline’s lips flattened into a hard line and a muscle in her jaw jumped. “We’re not talking about Lyric.”
“If my client’s relationship history is fair game, I don’t see why yours shouldn’t be either,” Poppy demanded. “Sure, Cash
has an Adriana and a Misha and a Rachel and a Blake in his past, but last time I checked, Lyric had a Gavin and an Alex and
a Bryce and a Conner and a Nate in hers.”
Lyric wasn’t some wide-eyed ingenue and Cash wasn’t a mustachioed villain looking to steal her virtue or tie her to a set
of train tracks. They were both adults and this was far from a first relationship for either of them.
“The difference is that the press calls your client a heartbreaker and makes cute quips about him playing the field, but the
same outlets speculate on Lyric’s body count and write think pieces about why she can’t keep a man. They denigrate Lyric for
doing the same thing they praise Cash for in the same breath. Don’t even get me started on the rumors. Lyric’s sleeping with
all her friends. She’s secretly married. She’s having a baby. It’s brutal out there, even more so because Lyric isn’t just
a woman, she’s a Black woman. So, no, we are not talking about Lyric. Not when your client will come out of this smelling fresh as a fucking daisy, and I will be forced to
not only clean up the mess he made but also put Lyric back together after suffering yet another heartbreak at the hands of
a guy who claimed to be different.”
Dating was difficult enough. Doing it while the whole world watched?
Poppy shivered. No, thank you. To think that Lyric had been living that nightmare since she was fourteen?
Poppy’s heart went out to her. “I’m not going to pretend to understand the level of scrutiny Lyric faces on a daily basis.
I’m definitely not claiming Lyric and Cash are going to be treated remotely similar by the press.
But it’s not fair to act like Cash holds all the cards here. ”
Her brows rose. “Meaning?”
“Ninety-five million followers.” Poppy tried to mimic Rosaline by arching a single brow. “You do the math.”
“Lyric’s follower count isn’t going to spare her the pain of heartbreak.”
Poppy rolled her eyes. “No, but in the court of public opinion, Cash is going to get crucified by Lyric’s legion of diehard
fans if the blame for a potential breakup gets placed on his shoulders. Even if it’s not true, you and I both know perception
is reality. You’re telling me he won’t get absolutely inundated with hate mail? That his notifications won’t be flooded, that
some of Lyric’s especially loyal fans won’t buy tickets to his games just to heckle him? That some Pathfinders fans who are
also fans of Lyric won’t cancel their season tickets, that the team won’t lose money, that Cash might not get released from
his contract early if management thinks he’s more trouble than he’s worth?”
That Poppy, consequently, might not lose her job.
“Dating someone as high-profile as Lyric isn’t without its risks.” Rosaline shrugged, as good as confirming that she had the
power to ruin Cash and, by association, Poppy. All in a day’s work for Rosaline Sinclair. “Just like being an athlete isn’t
without risks. Cash could tear his ACL tomorrow and never play football again and yet he gets out on the field every Sunday.
In ten years, he could be a washed-up nobody sitting in a bar talking about how he used to be someone. Most athletes have
some sort of backup plan.”
“And Lyric could develop vocal nodes and lose her four-octave range.” If looks could kill, Poppy would’ve slumped over dead atop the kitchen island. “My point is, I could just as easily ask you if being the wife of a professional athlete is Lyric’s backup plan, but I won’t because—”
“—it would be patently ridiculous?” Rosaline laughed.
“Because I have more respect for her than to assume she’s a cleat chaser.” Not that there was anything wrong with exclusively looking
to date athletes. “I’m not saying you have to like Cash. Hell, I’m not saying you can’t have your own private thoughts and
opinions about whether this relationship is going to last, whether you want it to last. I’m only asking that you afford Cash and me that same respect. Don’t start us—him off at a disadvantage. Please.”
Her heart hurled itself against the wall of her chest and her hands shook as she reached for her soda. She, Poppy Peterson,
had just looked Rosaline Sinclair in the eye and asked Rosaline to respect her. Her voice didn’t even quiver. Maybe she didn’t
need one, but for that alone, Poppy totally deserved a gold star.
“That girl out there?” Rosaline said, jerking her chin toward the hall where the rest of the house was and the presumed door
leading to the back patio. “She is the single most important person on this planet to me. She’s been through more than most people twice her age and she has achieved
more than most people could dream of achieving in two lifetimes.
But the fact of the matter is the higher you climb, the harder you fall, and there are people out there looking for any excuse to tear her down.
This life? It’s not for the faint of heart.
Most people? Can’t handle it. They think they can, but after a while it all gets to be too much.
Lyric deserves someone who won’t exploit her fame but isn’t afraid of it either.
Someone who’s ready to be there with her, every step of the way, through the good and the bad.
” She pinned Poppy with a hard stare. “Can you tell me, honestly, that you believe Cash is that person? It’s a lot to ask of someone, I know, but if Cash can’t handle this, he needs to get out now before Lyric is in too deep and gets her hopes up that maybe this time is going to be different. ”
Poppy couldn’t make any promises, but she knew the type of man Cash was. He didn’t do things by halves. “When Cash is in?
He’s all in.” Sometimes to a fault. Not that she was going to say that. She’d put her foot in her mouth enough times tonight already. “I’ve never seen him back down from a challenge and he isn’t
afraid to work his ass off. Unless you’ve got a crystal ball, your guess is as good as mine whether this time is going to
be different. The rest? That’s up to Cash and Lyric.”
Rosaline looked up at Poppy through her long, dark lashes and sighed. “Unless you’ve been living under a rock, I’m sure you
know Lyric has an album coming out in a month. We already discussed it before you got here, but she and I have agreed that—if
tonight goes as well as she hopes it will—it would be prudent to keep focus on the album. I don’t want its release overshadowed
by a relationship that could very well be a flash in the pan.”
“Keep focus on the album,” Poppy parroted. They could save so much time if Rosaline just said what she meant instead of speaking
in riddles. “Meaning what exactly? Wait—don’t tell me. It involves another NDA.”
By the time this was all said and done, Poppy would be able to recite the verbiage of Rosaline’s NDAs verbatim.
Rosaline crossed her arms. “Until the album drops, I don’t want to hear any whispers about Lyric’s love life, only buzz about her music.
For the next month, discretion will be of the utmost importance.
That means no public outings or dates, no online exchanges anyone can pick apart, and absolutely no pictures.
Cash Curran will keep Lyric Adair’s name out of his mouth.
He will not tweet about her. He will not talk about her.
He will not wear her merch. Interview questions will be vetted ahead of time by yourself well in advance.
If a situation arises where you cannot vet the questions, such as during a postgame press conference, Cash will answer any and all questions pertaining to Lyric
in an appropriately vague manner. Do you think he can handle that?”
“I don’t foresee any of that posing a problem for Cash.”
“And you?”
“Don’t worry.” Poppy shot Rosaline her flattest stare. “I promise not to go on any public dates with your client.”
“Cute.” Rosaline’s lips twitched like she was trying not to smile, and Poppy counted it as a victory. “But I was talking about
whether or not you’re prepared for the road that lies ahead of you if this relationship between our clients pans out.”
“Can you ever really be prepared in this line of work?” Poppy mused, reaching for her soda. “I mean, half the job’s about rolling with the punches,
right?”
“There is a certain degree of improvisation required,” Rosaline conceded with a tip of her chin. “But rolling with the punches
doesn’t mean failing to prepare. A failure to prepare is to—”
“Prepare for failure.” Poppy hid her smile behind her wineglass when Rosaline frowned. “That’s like live, laugh, love for athletes. I’m pretty sure Cash has it on a poster in his home gym. Hell, I think one of his teammates might have it tattooed
on his ass.”
Rosaline snorted. “Charming.”
“You really don’t need to underscore the importance of preparedness to me,” Poppy promised. “Trust me when I say I take this job seriously.
I know I’ve only been doing this specific job for a little over a year, but—”
“I’m not talking about sending a few press releases or working with the team’s public relations coordinator. Chances are very good your client is about to be thrust into the spotlight.”
“Cash is the best quarterback in the NFC West. He’s already—”
“Portland famous. He’s Pacific Northwest famous. And while Cash might look like he got dressed in a thrift shop in the dark,
Lyric’s not going to be the Ryan Lewis to his Macklemore, okay? She’s a superstar. She sets records and then she breaks them.
If Cash is going to be in her orbit, he is going to experience fame on a scale you can’t fathom. And you? You’re not just
going to be along for the ride, you’re going to be helping to steer the ship. Can you handle that?”
Honestly? She didn’t know. How could she when this was all uncharted territory? There was hardly a For Dummies guidebook written for this.
“I welcome any words of wisdom you want to give, but you should know that Cash isn’t the only one who isn’t afraid of a challenge.”
Maybe she didn’t know what she could handle until she was handed it, but she’d never know if she didn’t try.
Poppy held her breath as Rosaline gazed at her appraisingly from across the kitchen island, fingers tapping idly against the
stem of her empty wineglass.
After an excruciating moment of silence, Rosaline sighed and offered Poppy a ghost of a smile. “I look forward to being impressed
by you.”