Chapter 8
a red carpet
Morgan
I posted photos from the weekend to my social media, tagged Jax where appropriate, then focused on the laptop in front of me.
I had work to do for the gym and the bakery.
But part of me wanted to mock something up for PR crisis as a jumping point in case this whole fake relationship with Jax works out.
I had a video conference with his agent earlier this morning to discuss what I would be doing to his client, as well as a promise that if it worked out, he would add my name into the fold with some of his other clients for other potential business.
As I was finishing up creating the schedule for the gym and their social media, my phone lit up with a text from Jax.
Award show tonight. I’ll be at your place by six.
Tonight was our first major public outing as a new couple, a sports award ceremony where every camera will be training on us.
The stakes are high, and Jax isn’t particularly known for playing nice with the press.
I take in a deep breath, and mentally prepare myself for the night.
I have three hours, and nothing to wear.
I pack up my stuff and head to the parking garage. Tonight should be interesting.
The ride to the ceremony was a blur of city lights and restless energy coming off of the both of us.
Jax picked me up in a balck town car. He looked handsome in his tux, with his hair slicked back and a 5’o’clock shadow that had me sneaking glances at him throughout the ride.
He was fidgeting with his cufflinks since we left my place, his broad shoulders were tense under his suit and his knee was bouncing.
I’d found a royal blue dress that shimmered like liquid under the streetlights, paired with silver heels that pinched my tows, but made me feel like a whole different person.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked, soothing a nonexistent wrinkle on my gown.
He grunted, his default mode of communication when he was on edge. “Ready as I’ll ever be. You?”
“Born ready,” I quipped, flashing his a grin. “Just keep smiling and let me handle the talking if it gets dicey. The less you have to interact with the press, if someone is taking jabs, the better.”
The town car slows and the roar of the crowd hits up before the door opens.
This was quite the spectacle with a red carpet that sprawled like a crimson river, flanked by flashing camera and reporters shouting over one another.
Jax stepped out first, then reached his hand into the car for mine.
The cool night air brushed my skin as Jax offered his arm with an ease that felt real.
We moved down the carpet, posing for pictures. We stayed away from the reporters, even as they yelled questions at us, including a probing into who I was. My smile stayed bright with Jax’s arm around my middle, then as we walk he slips his hand into mine.
Another photo spot, Jax places his arm around my middle, pulls me against him, then kisses my temple.
I lean into him, close my eyes and smile.
This was going well, a little too well, until I spotted a familiar face at the end of the line.
I did my research on the reporters that Jax usually spoke to after games, and the man who confronted him last, Jason Jones, was a real slimebag with a reputation of being a dick, not just with Jax, but anyone who has a chip on their shoulder.
His smirk was a warning sign, and my stomach tightened.
“Incoming.” I whisper to Jax.
“Fuck. Keep walking.” He tells me.
“Jax Carr and Morgan Stevens, the talk of the sports world of San Francisco!” Jason booms as I squeeze Jax’s hand. “How does it feel to be the sports world new favorite couple?”
Jax tenses, but he keeps his cool. “It’s great,” he says, his voice clipped. “We’ve known one another so long, that we’re just basking in the newness and taking things one day at a time.”
Jason’s eyes gleam, “one day at a time. Some say that’s code for “fleeting romance that won’t last. Do you have any comment on the perfect timing of your new romance after your latest blunders?”
I clear my throat. “Every relationship, whether you start out as friends, like we did or not will have it’s challenges. But we’re committed to bringing out the very best in each other and supporting one another, personally and professionally, if that’s what you are talking about.”
“Professionally?” Jason latched onto the word as if he detected something specific in its meaning. “So, Ms. Stevens, is it true that you’re getting paid to be here tonight with Jax? Is that what you mean by professional?”
Jax’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrow. “You’ve got a problem with two people being in a happy relationship, Jones? Maybe you should focus on your own conflict, like how you like to twist every story to fit a negative agenda.”
“Jax,” I whisper, tugging his arm, then raising my voice loud so Jason can hear, “Let’s not give this guy the satisfaction of getting under our skin, when we’re so very happy together. “
But Jason wasn’t done, nor was he listening to me. “Twisting stories? That’s rich coming from you Carr. Tell me, who’s idea was it to pretend you had a hot girlfriend so soon after your last blow-up? A little eager for you to clean up your act, I would say.”
That did it. Jax steps forward, fists clench, his voice a low growl. Cameras turn in our direction. “You want a story? How about this? You’re a hack who wouldn’t know journalism if it bit you in the —”
“Jax!” I dart in front of him, my hand firm on his chest. My heart was pounding under my palm, and I meet his glare with a steady one of my own. “He’s not worth it.” I tilt my head, and fit my lips over Jax’s briefly, but long enough to feel him calm down under my touch.
I steer Jax off the carpet with my hand in mine tightly as we step into the venue with my pulse racing as we passed by throngs of people. I pull him into a quiet corner with the hum of the crowd fading behind us.
“What the hell? That guy is a complete parasite.”
I place my hands on the lapels of his jacket, “I know.” I reply with my voice even, “but you can’t let him get to you. That’s what he wants. Besides, remember, you’re supposed to be the charming boyfriend tonight.”
He huffs, raking a hand through his hair. “Charming is not my strong suit.”
“No kidding.” I say, smirking. “But I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. Trust me when I say that we’re going to get through this. Take a deep breath and let’s go and enjoy the rest of the night. That was just a small blip in the evening.”
He studies me for a moment, his scowl softening. “Thanks, Morgs. I would have likely jumped over that railing and punched him if it wasn’t for you.”
“Well, let’s not let that happen.” I tease, nudging him. “Let’s go find out seats and maybe a drink. It looks like you need one.”
As we headed into the main hall, the glitter and flashiness of the event swallowed us.
I couldn’t shake the adrenaline, or the nagging question int he back of my mind.
I would go to the ends of the earth to assure that Jax didn’t get in any more trouble.
How much of this is just a game? I push those thoughts aside, focusing on the night ahead.
Business comes first, blurred lines and uncharted feelings can come later.