Chapter 37
Remi
If love is mercy, I have found it not;
If love is ruin, then let ruin last.
I woke to ripples behind my eyes, the same ones that had haunted me since coming back from Florida. Silence was the ruinous herald; ink, the victor of what was to come.
Turning over, I found the bed empty. Amir didn’t have a game today, so his absence made me frown.
Even though I’d have rather stayed in bed, I swung my legs over the side, then sat there for a minute. After the night we had, it would’ve been nice to wake up still being held, but I couldn’t complain about everything.
Well, I could, but I’d done enough of that over the past couple of days.
I pulled a pair of Amir’s sweats from his drawer.
He’d told me I could take his clothes, after all.
In only the pants, I wandered out of the room as I ran my fingers through the knots in my hair.
Amir’s voice came from the kitchen, but when another one followed, I adjusted my steps to make them silent.
Putting my hand on the edge of the doorway, I peered inside.
“Did he say anything about it?” Renshu asked. He held a mug with two hands and blew on the surface.
Amir had a cup of his own, probably coffee. “I didn’t ask.”
Renshu let out a huff of air. “And why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter to me.”
“This isn’t just about you, Amir. People have questions—”
“Fuck people.”
“Management has questions.”
“And why is it their business?”
“Your boyfriend threatened someone’s life,” Renshu replied firmly. “He assaulted a man.”
“That man is an abusive piece of shit.”
“Clearly, there are two stories here.”
Amir’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you don’t believe him?”
“I’m saying that it doesn’t matter what I believe. The two of you have garnered attention beyond baseball. Your relationship is in the public eye, as is everything you do and everything you have done.”
“Then we ignore it, wait for it to blow over. Giving it attention will only make it worse.”
Renshu sighed and took a long sip from his mug. “Normally, I would agree with you.”
“But?”
“It’s not simple drama anymore. There are allegations, and silence can be interpreted as guilt.”
“So can relentlessly defending ourselves.”
“Sure, but in this case, doing nothing may be more harmful. I want us to be proactive about this.”
Amir tipped his head back, revealing a bite mark on his neck, which I’d left in the shower. “What if I don’t want to be proactive? What if I just want some goddamn peace?”
“There’s an eighty-million-dollar contract on the line, no?” When Amir glared at him, Renshu smiled. “Word trickles down. Men in suits love gossip more than they’d ever admit.”
“What do we need to do?”
Pivoting out of the doorway, I leaned back against the wall while I tried to even out my breaths.
Eighty million? That was . . . unbelievable. Inconceivable. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.
I started toward the bedroom, but my toe clipped the leg of the coffee table, and I swore. Before I could hobble away, footsteps approached from the kitchen.
“Remi?” I turned, limping slightly. Amir lifted a brow as he took me in. “What happened to you?”
“Just clumsy,” I replied.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, he led me to the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
What I wanted to do was put on the brakes, but I let him steer me where he wanted me. Once we were in the kitchen, he grabbed a mug and poured coffee into it.
“Hey, Remi,” Renshu greeted.
I offered him a smile, even though I didn’t feel very warm toward him right now. As Amir passed me the cup, he assessed me. He probably knew that I’d been listening, and most likely, he thought I was going to run again.
No running. I’d brought this down on him, so I could handle putting things back together. How hard could it be?
*****
“This is a joke, right? Please tell me it’s a joke.”
Amir frowned. “I’ve answered that at least ten times now.”
“Forgive me for not liking your answer.”
Renshu joined us, tapping away on his tablet. “Alright, we’re on in five. Are you two ready?”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed. “Think of this as a redemption arc.”
“Hate those, actually.”
Shifting his gaze to Amir, he made a face that I read as “control your rabid dog.”
I crossed my arms somewhat petulantly. “PR man says play nice, be tame; but chaos and I share the same last name.” Renshu stared at me, unamused. I cocked my head. “PR man, so calm, so sly; speak again and someone dies.”
“Remi,” Amir said softly.
“This is your chance to show the public that you’re not the wildcard they’ve been told you are,” Renshu reminded me. “You’re thoughtful and witty. Funny. Likeable.”
“So, I’m the class clown in Amir’s life.”
“You’re the guy he’s choosing to stand beside in spite of everything. Do you want to prove that you deserve it?”
I looked away from him.
“Let’s remember this is all theater,” Amir added as his fingers brushed down my back. “Remi doesn’t have to prove anything to me.”
“Sure,” Renshu said. “He just has to avoid screwing it up by speaking out of turn. Or making threats.”
When I stepped closer to Renshu, he moved back. “Forgive me, gods, for what I’ll do; I warned him twice, now that’s my cue.”
Amir looped his arm through mine, casually keeping me where I was. “He’ll be fine. Did you confirm our talking points?”
“They’ll stick to what’s been public,” Renshu replied.
“Any probing questions have been pre-approved by me, and you were briefed on them already. The goal isn’t to sell yourself.
We’re reframing the narrative.” He turned to me.
“You can use humor to defuse tension, but don’t get defensive. That’s what they’ll clip.”
I hummed. “So, no jokes about the national debt, existential despair, or the unpatriotic price of ammo these days.”
“We’ll be ready,” Amir said.
All Renshu did was nod before he left the room.
Amir turned to me with an exasperated look. “If you didn’t want to do this, you could have said no.”
“To be fair, you said we’d be doing an interview, not going on the sports equivalent of Good Morning fucking America.”
“They have more reach than Clara. The only reason she’s become relevant is because these stories started going viral. But these people are always relevant.”
“Tell me again why we can’t ignore it.”
“If you don’t speak, the story speaks for you. Cole does.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know that, but they don’t. You’ve only been on camera twice, and that impromptu LIVE with Clara didn’t exactly help.”
“You said it was funny,” I reminded him.
“It was. But with everything else, it might make you look vindictive or something.”
“Sounds like what Renshu would say.”
“We can back out . . .”
Looking at the uncertain expression on his face, I sighed. “No, we’ve come this far.”
With a smile, he straightened the collar of my flannel. Renshu had tried to get me into a suit, but that wasn’t happening. Not at the behest of the fucking public relations department. I’d act the way they wanted, but I wouldn’t primp and preen.
Renshu popped his head in again and simply jerked his chin. Amir led me out of our little room, down a short hall, then to a heavy curtain, through which I could hear far too many sounds. As soon as we stepped out, a crowd cheered.
Immediately, I wanted to backtrack. Maybe I wanted to throw up.
Not once in my life had I dreamed of being on a stage.
It wasn’t that I was afraid of being seen; I just didn’t give a single shit about fame or recognition.
I wanted to live my little life and tend my bar.
I also wanted to find that true love thing people talked about, which was the only reason I was still here.
“Welcome to The Morning Pitch!” the host greeted with a bright smile. He was a young guy, and I had to contain my distaste for him. The only possible ways I could imagine he’d gotten this gig were through nepotism or superior mouth-game.
A sound rang out through the studio, like a bat cracking against a ball.
My jaw tightened as I scanned the crowd.
The cheers were a bit much and most definitely orchestrated.
The whole show was fake, especially considering how Renshu had pre-selected the questions, but people either didn’t care or were too stupid to realize it.
Fucking NPCs, obviously.
He shook our hands before he sat down in his comfy chair and rested his calf on the opposite thigh. “Today, we’re joined by Boston’s own Amir Darya and his partner, Remi Keane. Thanks for being here, guys.”
Amir flashed a camera-ready smile that was too good for someone who liked to stay out of the limelight. “It’s our pleasure, Brody.”
I hid my snort by clearing my throat. Amir squeezed my hand tightly, so I made sure my composure was absolutely perfect.
The noise died down, giving me less to focus on, which made the lights feel brighter. I brushed my hair out of my face and wondered if these cameras would capture every bead of sweat.
“So, Amir,” Brody began, “you’ve had quite a strong start to the season, batting just below a .30. How’s it been adjusting back after spring training?”
“It’s been great. The team’s working hard, and I’m focused on keeping the rhythm going. You know, baseball’s a long season. One pitch at a time.”
“And Remi, what about you? Being on the sidelines is a different ballgame, no pun intended.” He laughed, and the crowd followed suit.
I forced out one of my own. “It’s like being in a zoo, but with better uniforms. Good thing Amir looks good in tight pants.”
Brody’s smile made me wonder if he’d gotten it stitched on. Plastic surgery was starting earlier and earlier these days.
“It must be difficult balancing your personal life with all of the new demands. You run a bar, I hear.”
“Mm.” I nodded while I swallowed through the dryness in my throat. “I’m good at managing my time. And I have a good support system, of course. My friends are always there to help out if I need them.”
“That’s so good to hear,” the co-host, Brittany, said.
Brody leaned forward. “Speaking of relationships, there’s been a lot of talk in the media lately. I’d like to give you a chance to comment on it.”
My eyes flicked to Amir, who was perfectly pleasant. “We’ve both had complicated pasts,” he answered. “We’re focusing on baseball, our family, and supporting each other.”
“That first story—” Brody blew out a dramatic breath. “That was something. How did you both respond to that whirlwind? Behind the scenes, I mean.”
“Honestly, we laughed. The truth’s a lot less dramatic than the tabloids want it to be.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I do far more exciting things alone in the house than the press will ever catch wind of.”
“Go on and share one with the audience,” Brody urged. “An exclusive for those tuning in.”
Off stage, Renshu made a cutting motion over his throat.
With a smile, I leaned back and slung my arm over Amir’s shoulders. “At least once a month, I take a platter of sushi and a beer in the shower with me.”
“In the shower?” Brittany laughed.
“Oh, yeah. If you’ve never had a shower beer, you’re missing out. It’s how I write my best poetry.”
Renshu noticeably relaxed, and he offered me a double-thumbs up.
“Poetry,” Brody repeated. “I don’t suppose you have something to give us a peek into your head.”
“I’ve already given you your exclusive,” I pointed out.
The crowd made a sound of disappointment, so I feigned a huff of exasperation.
Getting to my feet, I turned to face the people.
“I drink, therefore I think. I think, therefore I rhyme. If poetry were sushi, I’d eat my feelings every time.
” They whistled and cheered as if I’d done something incredible.
After taking a bow, I dropped down beside Amir again.
Brody clapped lightly as he laughed. This shit felt like a performance at The Capitol. Maybe dystopia wasn’t all that far off.
When things quieted again, he glanced between us.
“It must be difficult with all the scrutiny. Believe me, I understand what it’s like in the public eye.
” He put on that fake smile, as if it emphasized his pathetic struggle of making millions to host a talk show.
“We’ve heard some stories about your past, old relationships . . .”
Renshu put his hand up to signal us.
“We know there’s noise out there,” Amir replied. “It doesn’t change who we are or what we’re focused on. We’re here, together, moving forward.”
“We love to hear that. Rising above the noise is a respectable enterprise. Let’s shift gears a bit.
We want to know more about you two. Amir, you’ve kept your life pretty private over the years, and Remi, we’ve just met you a few months ago.
Some love you, some are iffy. So, why don’t you take a moment to catch us up to speed?
We found out you’re a poet, but tell us everything else. ”
The crowd cheered at that.
“Everything else,” I repeated. Amir squeezed my leg, and I tried to conjure up all of the things Renshu had briefed me on saying, the caricature I had to turn myself into so this thing would go away and we’d one day be able to live in peace.