Chapter 25 #2
“I’m local,” she grinned. “Born and raised.” Zayne smiled.
“Uh, would you like a photo?” Zayne asked. “With me… and Cam? Lana can take it.”
Huh? What was this? Zayne was always polite and accommodating to fans because that’s how we were raised, but in his entire life, I had never seen him like this. It was like watching a body double or something.
“I’d love it,” she smiled. “That would be cool.”
Zayne scooped my phone off my desk and handed it to me.
Cam just grinned at me over Shelby’s head.
I posed them in front of the giant Slashers logo on my wall, and snapped a few pictures, Shelby in the middle, with Cam and Zayne on either side.
“Would you mind taking one with my phone too?” she asked, digging into her purse.
“And is it okay if I post it to Instagram?”Just as I was about to answer, Zayne jumped in.
“Just give Lana your number and she can send it to you.” What had gotten into him?
“Sure,” I agreed. “These turned out great, I’ll just text them to you.
The guys, uh, have practice starting in a few minutes. ”
“Wow, thank you,” she said. “Look, I know things are crazy around here this morning. Would it be easier on you if I came back next week?”
“That would be great,” Zayne nodded. Cam was doing everything he could to keep a straight face.
“Do you mind?” I said. “I hate to have you come back, but things are a bit chaotic this morning since the presser. How about we get you scheduled for next week. I’ll arrange for you to watch a practice, or we can bring you to a game if you’d like.
I’ll set up some interviews for you with a couple players. ”
“That would be amazing,” she said. “I’ll get out of your hair this morning.
“Thanks,” I said, walking her to the door.
“Katie – would you please get Shelby set up for a meeting next week? I’m going to attend a practice with her and we’ll arrange a couple of player interviews.
” I tossed my phone to Katie. “Will you also please text her the pics we just took while I finish up here?”
“Sure thing, boss,” Katie replied. Shelby thanked me, Cam, and Zayne again and gave a little wave as she disappeared through the door of my office.
Zayne nodded at Cam, "We've got practice. I’ll see you down there."
My email pinged from Katie, and I instinctively glanced at my computer screen. The subject line read: "MEDIA ROUNDUP – MURPHY/DECKER."
Moment of truth. I clicked.
The email contained links to dozens of articles that had appeared in the last hour:
"Fake Fiancée, Real Feelings? Inside the Love Story Melting Hockey's Heart" – People
"Heartbreaker Off the Market: Cam Murphy and Lana Decker's Second Chance Romance Stuns NHL" – ESPN
"PR Genius! Lana Decker's Masterclass in Crisis Spin" – Forbes
"Hockey's Hottest Power Couple: Ten Years in the Making" – Hockey Week
"Murphy's Montreal Momentum: Will Love Keep Him in St. Pete?" – The Athletic
Cam leaned over my shoulder, reading along with me. "Hey, look at that. Forbes thinks you're a genius."
"Forbes thinks this was some elaborate PR strategy," I corrected. "They have no idea the last few days have been completely reactive crisis management."
"Maybe that's your superpower," Cam suggested. "Making catastrophes look like carefully executed plans."
I snorted. "That's definitely my superpower. It's pretty much my entire job description."
"Well, that and distracting me from hockey," he countered with a wink. He whispered conspiratorially, rubbing the hem of my blouse between his fingers, "Is it wrong that I want to tear all your buttons off with my teeth?"
Before I could answer, my desk phone rang. Ryan Keller appeared on the caller ID. I answered, putting it on speaker. "Ryan."
"Lana! Is Cam with you? He's not picking up his phone."
"I'm here, Ryan," Cam confirmed, pulling a chair beside me.
"Holy shit I can't believe you two started this morning in full damage control mode and then managed to make all of America fall in love with you in the space of 45 minutes.
I just got off the phone with Redline." Ryan's voice practically vibrated with excitement.
"The deal is ON. They're over the moon about this whole situation.
They're calling it 'authentic brand storytelling' and 'leveraging genuine emotional connection' and a bunch of other marketing buzzwords that make the money go up. "
"They're not upset about the...arrangement?" I asked, professional caution still at the forefront of my mind.
"Are you kidding? They're claiming they knew you two were the real deal all along! Said the chemistry between you two was off the charts. This is their dream scenario – the bad boy reformed by love, the college crush that never died, the second chance romance. They eat this stuff up!"
Cam's smile was radiant. "So the contract...?"
"Is everything we asked for, plus a bonus if Lana agrees to appear in some of the campaigns as your 'inspiration'. They want to tell your love story through sneakers."
"What does that even mean?" Cam laughed.
"It means six million dollars and your handsome mug plastered on billboards all over the country, hell if I know. I'll email you the deal memo, but bottom line: this is the biggest endorsement of your career, Murphy."
Relief washed over me. The very deal that had started our fake engagement charade was now secured – and better than we'd initially hoped.
"And..." Cam prompted, something in his expression shifting.
Ryan's tone changed slightly. "And I'll be talking to Marcus this afternoon about the St. Pete offer. Montreal is pushing hard, especially now; we still need to see if the Slashers can even make the numbers work."
My stomach dropped at the mention of Montreal. With everything that had just happened, the offer was still on the table. Still beckoning with its millions and prestige.
"We're taking everything under consideration," Ryan continued. "I'll keep you both updated."
After ending the call, Cam turned to me, clearly seeing the concern in my eyes. "Hey," he said softly. "It's going to be okay."
I nodded, pushing down the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm the joy of the morning. "I know. I trust you. We'll figure it out."
The words came out more easily than I expected, and I realized I meant them. After everything we'd been through, I did trust him. I had to.
"I need to get to practice," Cam said reluctantly, glancing at his watch. "Dinner tonight? My place?"
"Perfect," I agreed. "Pretty sure I'll be working late anyway."
He stood, hesitating for a moment before leaning down to kiss me. It was a brief kiss, but filled with promise. "I'll text you the address – though you've been there once before," he added with a wink.
"I think I can find my way," I assured him, my face flushing slightly as I vividly recalled the night we'd spent together.
“Also, just me or was Zayne being really weird earlier.”“Oh no, not just you,” I laughed. “Total weirdo.”
With one last smile, he was gone, and I turned to face the mountain of work ahead. The world now knew about us, and there was no going back. Whatever came next, we'd face it together.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of congratulatory messages, media and sponsorship inquiries, and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy in the midst of becoming hockey's hottest couple overnight.
Logan texted me:
LOGAN: Coco says she loves Cam but if he hurts you she'll help Zayne hide his body.
Pietro sent a group message to the team:
PIETRO: Can we focus on hockey now that Mom and Dad have figured out they're in love?
Coach Sully called me personally, his gruff voice softening when he said, "You did good, kid. You were in an impossible situation, and you came through. Both of you."
My parents called, insisting I bring Cam for Sunday dinner. "We always knew," my mother said cryptically. "A mother knows these things."
"I never thought I'd see my own daughter with a left wing," my father grumbled, though I could hear the grin in his voice. "But I suppose he'll do."
By evening, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. We decided to skip dinner out and order takeout to Cam's place instead. The idea of facing the public – even in a restaurant – was too much after the day we'd had.
We had to slip out through the service entrance of the arena to avoid the cluster of reporters and fans who had somehow gotten wind of our location. Cam kept his arm around me protectively as we hurried to his Range Rover, his massive body angled to shield me from view.
"This is insane," I muttered as we finally made it into his car. "I'm usually the one managing this kind of circus, not the main attraction."
"Welcome to the other side," he said with a wry smile, navigating carefully through the parking lot. "Now you know what it's like when you send us out to 'just answer a few questions.'"
"Touché." I leaned back against the headrest, finally letting the exhaustion of the day wash over me.
Cam reached over to take my hand. "For what it's worth, I think you do a great job protecting us. I've just never appreciated it until I saw you on the receiving end of the frenzy."
The drive to Cam's was quiet; both of us were worn out from the past few days.
As the Tampa Bay skyline appeared in the windshield, glittering against the deepening twilight, a sense of peace settled over me.
Whatever happened next – with the media, with Montreal, with us – I'd never felt more hopeful about the future than I did in that moment.
Cam's modern waterfront home was unusually tidy, I noticed as we walked in.
The spacious open floor plan with its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay was a study in masculine elegance – comfortable yet sophisticated, with muted blues and grays reflecting the water views.
When we'd spent the night together before, I'd been too distracted by, well, Cam to fully appreciate his space. Now I took it in properly.