Chapter 18
Meghan had never expected to be thrust into the spotlight herself, and she was not enjoying it.
It had started innocently enough. Dean had given her a Wolves jersey. In place of a player’s name across the back, it had his. She’d worn it to a couple of home games without incident, but then someone had photographed her on the sidelines after a game standing next to Dean.
Suddenly there were dozens of photos of her in the stands or walking with Dean on campus. There was even one of them sitting outside at a coffee shop, his arm around the back of her chair while she showed him something on her laptop.
She couldn’t have been more shocked when she opened the electronic edition of the paper and found herself on the front page.
There was a picture of her lecturing and one of her in the green dress standing next to Dean in the hotel lobby in Louisiana.
That photo could only have come from a player or coach who’d been there since she hadn’t worn the dress since.
Opposites Attract! the headline screamed. Coach Ulrich Dating Physics Professor.
The article laid out the timeline and many details of their romance, as well as her professional history at the university with quotes from students, staff, and Dean’s players.
The newspaper knew how often he sent her flowers, what kinds, and their favorite place to have breakfast on Sunday mornings.
There was even a small, extremely awful picture of her coming out of Pilates class.
She felt completely violated, especially since the paper spent way too much time discussing and dissecting her looks.
“Have you seen the newspaper? What should I do?” she demanded when Dean called after she’d sent a text that she needed to talk to him right away.
“Yes, I’ve seen it. Don’t do a thing.”
“How do I make them stop?”
“You don’t. You just ignore it.”
“I can’t ignore it. My class was full of random people this morning. They just showed up. To listen to me discuss loop quantum gravity! They can’t have followed it. And the entire time they were taking pictures and videos. It was incredibly distracting.”
“You can ask people who aren’t enrolled to leave,” he pointed out.
“Maybe I will next time. But that won’t help when I’m on campus.”
“People are curious. Just ignore it. It’ll die down.”
“Can’t you do something to make them stop right now?”
Her chairman stepped into her office.
“Just a second, Dean.” She looked up. “Yes?”
“The Spectator wants to interview you. I said yes. Tell Coach I said hello,” Jeff said, stepping back out.
“What? Wait a minute!” she called. “Oh my God.”
When she put the phone back to her ear, there was quiet.
“Dean?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Did you hear that?”
“I did.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Yes, you will.”
“No, I will not! I want them to leave me alone. How is this going to help the attention die down?”
“Calm down. I’ll help you prepare.”
“No, I don’t want to talk to them. They were discussing fundraising and used a quote that said if the physics department really wanted to raise money, they’d enter me into a wet T shirt contest since that was something every guy on campus would pay to see.
They didn’t have to print that quote, Dean.
They chose to. Totally sleazy. Is this a university paper? Or a tabloid?”
“I didn’t see the wet T shirt quote. That I will handle.”
“But what can you really do?”
“All kinds of things. I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’m afraid if you stay over they’ll get a picture of you leaving in the morning. There was a guy with a camera right on the sidewalk this morning.”
“With an actual camera? Not a kid with a phone?”
“No, with a camera. It had a big flash. I was going to take out the trash before I got in the shower. I turned just in time or another really awful picture of me, this time wearing a bathrobe, would be in next week’s edition I’m sure. I feel like I can’t escape!”
“I’ll take care of it. For now, pack a bag. You’ll stay at my place.”
“Your place?” she said, surprised. She’d been to his place of course with its spectacular view, but they rarely ever slept there.
“Yeah, my loft has restricted access, which will give us more privacy. Normally, I prefer your place because it feels more like a home, and the food’s better.”
“Dinner’s better because I have groceries to cook with. And pots and pans. You have one saucepan and one skillet. It’s crazy.”
“Probably, but I never needed to cook there. There’s catered food practically everywhere I go.”
“Do you want me to bring some things to cook with?”
“No, don’t worry about it for tonight. I’ll get takeout.”
“Okay. Your place does have that gated garage and the access codes for the elevator. To get to us they’d need a helicopter to land on the roof.”
“Student reporters don’t repel down the sides of buildings. This isn’t Mission Impossible.”
“Dean?”
“Yes?”
“I love you, but I’ve decided you’re too famous for me. I think I’m going to take a job at MIT and date one of the maintenance guys. They go everywhere without getting noticed. It’d be so much better.”
“Definitely keep talking about leaving me to date someone else. I’ve got a pair of handcuffs stashed somewhere that have never been used.”
“Shh! Your office could be bugged. I have to go.”
He laughed.
“I’m serious. See you later.”
Dean had an unsatisfying conversation with The Spectator’s student editor. There were a lot of people he could’ve called, but he didn’t feel like going that direction.
In the locker room after practice, while the team was eating the homemade organic energy bars that Meghan now routinely dropped off for the players, Dean ran down the practice wrap up.
“Now that I’m done with the business, I need to ask you guys for a favor.”
The locker room fell silent.
“Yeah, Coach. What do you need?” Tyson asked.
“I need you to close ranks. The newspaper is hassling Meghan. They’re stalking her, and she’s upset. I want to send a message.”
“We saw where they put it to her department to pimp her out for a wet T shirt contest. Thought she might get twisted up when she read it,” Darnell said.
“People would pay,” Jameson said.
“Don’t nobody in here wanna hear that noise,” Darnell snapped.
“Everybody knows she got a bangin’ body.
We ain’t blind. But we gonna let them talk that shit in the paper?
That’s Coach’s girl. She’s a teacher, not some ho working Jefferson and Nine.
Yeah, shove another chocolate-chili snack in your mouth and remember who made that for you.
Show some damn loyalty.” Darnell turned back.
“Yeah, Coach. We’re down. No quotes. No pictures.
No locker room access. They think it’s cold in winter?
It’s about to get Siberia cold shoulder around here.
Go on, send a message. We’ve got your back. ”
“I appreciate it. See you tomorrow.”
The room broke up.
“Coach, hold up,” Darnell said, coming up alongside him as he left the locker room.
Meghan had shown footage of Darnell and a couple of other players rushing during a Physics 101 lecture, and word had gotten back to the team. It wasn’t like there were honorary physics degrees being awarded, but for some reason the fact that she’d included them in her lectures had had a big impact.
“She’s okay,” Dean said. “If that’s what you were wondering.”
“Nah, I know she can handle it. She’s ‘round us and L-Berry all the time. I didn’t think she’d go PTSD over somethin' trivial. I hear they’re tryin' to get up in her business though. And yours.”
Dean gave him a sideways glance. Darnell always seemed to know what was going on on campus.
“How so?”
“Somebody misheard something you said. Took it to be that kind of nasty flirting a guy does sometimes with his girl when nobody else can hear. I can’t see you talking to her like that, but if you did, that’s nobody’s business.”
Dean frowned and waited.
“But maybe you want to watch what you say if you’re at your favorite table at Pebbles on Sunday morning. Sometime somebody might forget their phone under the table with the audio record running.”
Fuck, Dean thought. “Are you saying someone already recorded our conversations there? Or that they’re planning to?”
“Planning to. I was gonna show up and stomp that phone before you got there, but I don’t know where they might go next. Heads up, Coach.”
Dean nodded.
“And don’t worry. I’ma settle this shit down.”
Dean raised his brows. “How’s that?”
“I know who writes the playbook up in that house, but he only knows how to play offense. He’s got some secrets himself, and no defensive line.”
“I appreciate it, Darnell. But I don’t want you to do anything that’ll get you in trouble. I want you in school and on the field.”
“Nah. I’m five-by-five, Coach. Nothing’s gonna get in my way. I’m going the L-Berry way. NFL. Hopefully for a few more years than him, though. But later after I buy a couple mansions and a Viper, I’m gonna circle back to wherever you guys are and learn to be a coach from you.”
As talented as Darnell was, Dean wasn’t sure he would get drafted into the NFL. He did, however, know that the kid was a natural leader and clearly a smart strategist.
“I think coaching would come naturally to you. I’d welcome the chance to give you your start somewhere down the road.”
Darnell grinned. “Guess that’s one more reason we both gotta stay out of trouble. You have any idea what that Spectator reporter thought he heard you say to M-and-M?”
“No idea,” Dean lied.
“Nah, didn’t think so,” Darnell said with a knowing expression. “Me either. I got a new girlfriend myself. I just talk to her about the weather and shit.”
Dean laughed. “I’m sure.”
“Catch you later, Coach.”
“Later.”