Chapter Six #2
“It’s fine,” I said, still thinking about putting my head on the pillow that held his boxers.
“This room is better suited for you. It even has a small desk that you can work at uninterrupted,” he said, walking over, clearing a pile of dirty clothes to reveal a small white desk. He shoved the clothes in the hamper and then came back to the door.
“I told you the other room will be fine!” I shoved past him and went into the hall, to the other bedroom door, and shoved it open.
He was right. Just as he’d said, there was nothing more than a mattress and a small lamp on the floor.
I walked in, placed my bags over in the corner, then opened the closet door to find a few empty hangers on the rod.
“Suit yourself. Need anything else?” he questioned.
“Nope, nothing,” I said, looking around the room, wondering how on earth I was going to make this work. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so stubborn and just used the other room.
I walked over to the door after he’d left and shut it, turned around and walked over to my bags.
I began unpacking things, carefully hanging my items in the closet, doubling some shirts and pants along with skirts on some hangers.
When I got to my undergarments, I decided to just leave them in the suitcase because I didn’t have any other choice, and zipped the lid closed.
I was just about to turn and pull out some of my toiletries when the door opened and Colton appeared holding a small folding table.
“For the light,” he grumbled, leaving it in the doorway.
I quickly grabbed it and placed it beside the mattress, placing the small light on it, and then setting my toiletry bag off to the side. It was then I realized there were no sheets or blankets on the bed, but when I turned back to the door, Colton was gone.
I took a deep breath and then made my way over to the door and poked my head out into the hall. The house was quiet. I made my way down to the kitchen, where I found Colton sitting at the kitchen table drinking a bottle of beer.
“Comfortable?” he questioned.
Comfortable? Was he kidding? I wasn’t comfortable. Who lived like this?
“Uh, could I get some sheets?”
“Sorry, baby girl, I don’t have any.”
I frowned. He’d just told me he made blanket forts.
“Um, you don’t have any?” I said again, my voice shaking.
“Nope, that was why I offered you my room, but you insisted on taking the other. So, if you want sheets, you’ll have to get some from the store,” he said, bringing the bottle of beer to his lips and taking a drink, while looking me directly in the eyes.
I said nothing. I simply turned to leave the kitchen but stopped at the entrance and turned around again, meeting his eyes. “Before I forget, enjoy that beer. It will be your last.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” I said, heading back down the hall.
“The fuck it is!” he yelled back just as I shut the door to my new room.
As I paced back and forth, listening to the swearing that was going on out in the kitchen, I had a feeling everyone was right. He was going to be my most challenging client yet, and all I could do was look at the four walls of this hellhole he called a bedroom and do my best to keep a level head.
I’d taken a cab to the store and returned with some food, sheets, and a few things I’d need to make my stay a little more comfortable. The first thing I’d noticed was that the driveway was empty, as was the house.
Glad to be alone, I took my time making my room as comfortable as I could.
After I washed everything, I made the bed with the new sheets I’d bought, then covered it was the new duvet.
I pulled the blinds on the windows and then carried my laptop and notebooks to the kitchen to do some work while I made my dinner.
While dinner was cooking, I made some notes to get the house fully decorated in the coming days.
I’d set it out in my plan to have a full-on interview done at the house with The Blue Line Bulletin about the newly rekindled happy couple, and we certainly couldn’t have reporters in with the way the house was currently.
I’d just finished eating and had begun working on the article that would be sent out next when I heard the front door open and then the sound of keys dropping onto the table. I looked up and saw Colton standing in the kitchen doorway, scowling.
“What are you doing?” he growled.
“Eating dinner and working on the article for tomorrow, along with your speech for the opening dinner on Friday.”
“Tomorrow? What’s tomorrow?”
“Well, first, I thought I’d shadow you tomorrow and the next few days.
I want to get to know your habits. I know you have practice in the morning, and then we are supposed to have a photoshoot tomorrow afternoon with the team’s photographers for the rekindling article.
Friday night is the dinner to celebrate the opening of the season.
On Saturday, the team is doing a card and jersey signing for…
goodness, what was it?” I said, looking at my notes from the meeting with Larson.
“It’s for junior hockey players.”
“Yes, that is it,” I said, smiling, turning back to my screen.
“What do you have to do with any of those events?”
“I’m here to rebuild your image. So, I’m basically laying out what will happen during those times.
I’ll be by your side, supporting you as your doting other half at the events and games.
We want to put on a show for your fans because right now, as it stands, almost everyone who had been on the list to see you Saturday has backed out, switching to meet one of the other guys. ”
“Okay, and what were you planning on doing tomorrow?”
“Oh, tomorrow, I’m going to shadow you at practice, and during the day. I need to see how you react in everyday situations.”
Colton studied me and then shook his head. “How do you think that having you by my side is going to rebuild my image?”
I tore my eyes from his and let out a sigh as I flipped through my notebook and pulled out the article that in about twelve hours would be published to all sports blogs and apps and handed it to him.
“What is this?” he asked, looking at the sheet and then at me.
“Read it,” I said, going back to the sheet I was working on.
I could feel him staring at me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. I knew he wanted a confrontation; he’d been begging for it ever since this morning. I began typing away on the keys when I heard him pull the chair out and take a seat.
“What the fuck!” he exclaimed a couple of minutes later, which caused me to look over at him. “What sort of garbage is this?”
“It’s not garbage. It’s the start of the path to clean up your image.”
“I don’t know what sort of fantasy you people are living in, but this is just that. It won’t work,” he said, throwing the page down on the table. “No one is going to believe this garbage.”
I got up, grabbed a can of cola from the fridge, and placed it down on the table, then crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I? Tell me, who the hell is going to believe that a broken heart is going to be the reason for my actions the night I got arrested. I’ve never mentioned being in a relationship with anyone, nor is there any photo evidence of me ever being with anyone.
In fact, in the last interview I gave, a week before any of this happened, the age-old question was asked once again, and I said I was single. ”
“Exactly, and that is why the answer you gave couldn’t be more perfect.
If you actually read the article that was written, you would see that it states the incident with the paparazzi was sparked by questions surrounding ‘the end of an unknown secret relationship’ that you didn’t wish to talk about, but he continued pushing.
It states that you were heartbroken over losing the love of your life, and that pushing and prodding tipped you over the ledge you were already standing on,” I said, picking up the paper that contained the article, and slipped it back into my notebook.
“Is that what happened?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what happens next in this little fantasy world you’re creating?”
“Well, after time apart, the pair of you realized how miserable you were without one another, and you began talking again. One thing led to another, and you both have agreed to give things another try. That is why, tomorrow morning at practice, the photographers will take shots of the two of us inside the arena.”
“What the hell for?” he barked.
The article will include those images, and they will also be shared on Puck-Lit-Love.
“The hell they will be!”
“Colton, it’s already in the works. Besides, Puck-Lit-Love girlies adore love stories. That will propel your image to change almost immediately, and I know the rest will fall into place from there.”
“So, undo it. This story is making me sound like I’m unable to handle an emotional crisis.”
“No, it’s not. I’m giving your fans and the public a glimpse into the real side of you. A side you’ve hidden for far too long. The vulnerable side. Besides, everyone loves a love story, and if your fans can be a part of it, they will all swoon, especially the female fans.”
“So I’ve heard,” he said, wiping his face with his hand.
“Trust me, this couldn’t be more perfect.
Your lawyers have told us that there were no recordings from that night, so it’s basically your word against his.
Since everyone knows what paparazzi can be like when they poke and prod, or at least they should, we are giving you a major out on the public front, while your lawyers are finally taking care of things in private.
We want people to feel sorry for you, and while you think it won’t work, the fact that you’ve never mentioned a relationship in public just goes to prove how private and protective you are with that personal side of your life. ”
“Uh-huh. That is because that side of my personal life doesn’t exist. Now, what’s your plan for tomorrow?”
“You’ll see,” I said, sitting down and working on things again.
“I can’t wait to see what you come up with,” Colton said. “Probably something just as unhinged as this concocted garbage.”
“You know, it could be exciting if you just open yourself up to it.”
“I highly doubt it, but you do whatever you feel you need to do. Shut the light off before you go to bed.”
“I work late, but I’ll make sure I shut it off,” I murmured, focusing on what I was typing.
I was so focused I didn’t see Colton still standing there watching me, and I jumped when he cleared his throat. I looked up at him.
“What?”
“When are we going to talk about this morning?”
I frowned. “What about this morning?” I questioned.
“You know, about your avoidance issues?”
“What avoidance issues?”
“Emma, don’t play dumb.”
I got up from the chair I was sitting in and went over to the cupboard, grabbing the box of graham crackers I’d bought.
I grabbed a sleeve from the box and turned back around but stopped dead.
Colton was right in front of me. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
I could smell his cologne and the sweetness on his breath from the beer he’d been drinking, which I made a mental note once again to reiterate stopping.
He stepped in closer, and I backed up, my lower back hitting the edge of the counter. He was so close I could barely breathe, as he looked me directly in the eyes.
“You going to stand here and pretend you don’t remember me?” he said, keeping his voice under control.
“Mr. Fox…” I said, my voice trembling, completely different from the control I had this afternoon.
“Are you going to play it off that you aren’t the same person from all those years ago?” His eyes left mine, landed on my lips, and then went back up to my eyes.
I could have sworn someone had sucked all the air from the room, and I jumped when my phone rang. I tore my eyes from his and glanced over at my phone ringing away on the table.
“I, uh, I have to get that,” I stammered. “It’s probably Mark.”
He stood there, his eyes locked with mine, and then he finally moved back less than an inch, still blocking me.
“Thought you had to get that?” he said, when I didn’t move.
I shook as I took a step forward, my body brushing against his as I shoved past him and walked over to the table, grabbed my phone and said hello, my voice trembling.
He chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”
I listened to Mark start in on what was going to turn out to be a hellish conversation about splitting some assets while I watched as Colton grabbed a cold beer from the fridge. He leaned up against the counter, locked eyes with me and drank down the beer.
The moment I hung up the phone Colton placed the beer bottle on the counter and started walking away.
“What are you doing? What was that supposed to mean? Wait?” I yelled, starting to go after him.
Colton chuckled under his breath while shaking his head, and turned toward me, meeting my eyes. “You’ll see,” he said, leaving the kitchen once again.
“I thought I got my point across about the beer?” I yelled after him.
Colton turned back around and came right up to me, his body brushing against mine.
“Well, baby girl,” he said as he looked down into my face, “your plan starts tomorrow, so my beer drinking will stop then. Have yourself a good night, and tell Mark to tone down the language. A happy relationship doesn’t sound like that.”
He tore his eyes from mine and took off down the hall, leaving me standing in the kitchen staring after him, just as my cell phone started ringing again.
“How would you know?” I shouted after him, only to hear his door slam shut.