40. Jameson
Chapter forty
Jameson
Standing on the lush green fairway of the eighteenth hole at the course for the Phoenix Open, the Arizona sun casting a warm, golden glow over me, I focus on the path between my ball and the cup. The few fans who came to watch the practice round get slightly less rowdy as I prepare to take my final shot of the day. I putt in for par, ending another solid round. I offer the fans a slight wave, pulling off my ball cap to shake JT’s hand as we finish the round. While I’m finally back on top of my game, JT has been playing terribly lately. Though he typically remains his cheerful self, I can tell his mind has been elsewhere. Distracted.
“Tough round,” I say to JT as we make our way toward the clubhouse.
“Not for you. You’ve been playing great.” He sighs, flipping his cap around backwards. He looks like shit.
“You okay? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“It’s...” He shakes his head. “Nothing, man. I’ve just got to get my head on straight.”
I offer a shrug. “Been there. Let me know if you need to head to Wild Bluffs. You know I’ll come with you.”
“How is Bryn these days?”
It’s been two long weeks since I last saw Bryn heading into the airport terminal in New York City. Two weeks since we said goodbye with a fiery kiss that left me breathless and craving more. Two weeks of practicing my swing, playing PGA tournaments every weekend, and losing myself in the sound of her voice or her face on my phone screen every night.
I played well those two weeks, moved up the rankings, and even managed to snag a few new endorsement deals. My agent and publicist couldn’t be happier with my progress. But even as I’ve been racking up wins and endorsements, I can’t escape the feeling that something’s missing. Or rather, someone.
“She’s good. She’s been in Wild Bluffs the last few weeks, so she keeps sending me ridiculous updates about the people in town. While she was walking Jack the other day, the local busybody stopped her to let her know that if I’m good enough for Levi’s, I’m good enough for her. Who knew doing a jeans commercial could have so much sway over other people’s opinion of my character?”
He chuckles good-naturedly. “I’ve heard about the magical power of a man in dark jeans, I just never knew it had that kind of power.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Are you planning to use your jean magic to woo any lucky Phoenix women this weekend? Is”—I pause, trying to remember the name of the woman JT tends to meet up with when he’s in Arizona—“Halley going to join us for drinks tonight?”
“Hailey. And...I don’t know.” He glances around as if the entryway to the clubhouse might have the answer he needs. Unfortunately, it seems like the perfectly manicured lawn is of no help. “I just, I guess seeing you so happy with Bryn makes me want more than just a casual hookup, you know?”
I pause as we walk into the locker room. “Am I your relationship role model now?” My shock at the thought mirrors his own. “Fuck, that can’t be a good sign. Clear doom approaching.”
JT scoffs, pulling off his shoes as he sits down on the padded bench that runs in front of the three walls of lockers. “I hope not,” he says on a sigh. “It does feel that way right now, though.”
I take in my usually sunny friend, realizing his slightly gaunt face, the defeated set of his shoulders—that was me last year. That was me before I met Bryn and was brought back to life by her sharp wit and even sharper sense of loyalty.
I turn to my buddy and promise, “You’ll find her someday, man. You’ll find the girl who makes you happy, who reignites your sunshine.”
I turn to pull my jacket off, so my ears are covered, but I swear I hear him reply under his breath, “What if I already have?”
“What?” I ask, but it’s clear he wasn’t talking to me, and now he’s staring at his phone.
“Jameo.” JT’s glance slides up from his phone. “Have you checked your phone yet? Jon sent me a text asking to have you call him.” Sometimes, it’s helpful sharing an agent with your best friend.
I pull out my own phone and curse. I’ve got five missed calls from Erica and three from Jon. I push on the button to return Jon’s call.
“Jameson, we have a situation,” Jon says, answering on the first ring. “I’m going to add in Erica.”
“Hey, Jon,” Erica says as she answers.
“Erica, I’ve got Jameson on the line as well.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that have suddenly flared up. “What’s going on, Erica?”
“There’s an article that is just about to come out, and it’s not good,” she replies, her voice tense.
My heart sinks. I’ve had my fair share of negative press in the past, but I thought I was past this. “Send it to me,” I say, my voice low and steady.
“Jameo,” Jon cuts in. “You need to be prepared. This article isn’t just about you. It’s about Bryn.”
“What do you mean? Bryn who? My Bryn? Bryn Harper?” My voice rises with each ridiculous question out of my mouth. JT is looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Why would anyone want to write an article about Bryn?”
“I’ve been on the phone with the newspaper since they sent a request for comment this morning,” Erica replies smoothly. “Apparently, everything in the story has been confirmed, so they are running it, no matter what pressure I put on them.”
I growl into the phone, “Can one of you forward me the goddamn article so I can see what the fuck we are talking about?” I know Jon and Erica are on my side, but I’m about to lose my mind if they don’t tell me what’s happening.
“It’s coming through now,” Erica responds as my phone buzzes.
I put them both on speakerphone and open the link Erica sent me. It’s an article for a gossip magazine, but one that has enough legitimate information that it won’t be dismissed out of hand. The headline reads “Is Business Professional the New Black Dress? One Woman’s Unusual Path to Fame and Fortune.” I run my hand through my hair, letting loose a deep sign. My stomach churns as I scroll through the article, my eyes narrowing in disbelief.
The story starts out explaining how Bryn and I have been spotted at various events, and our relationship was confirmed a few months ago. It includes a picture of Bryn and Lila watching me play at Las Vegas. It outlines my current commercial deal with Hungry Guy, suggesting there are “speculations about her motives and the potential deals that took place to land someone like Jameson Walker at that price.” They quote an anonymous source saying that Bryn was an integral part in making that deal happen. The article then details Bryn’s previous relationship with Peter, who it turns out is Peter Easley, the son of a billionaire shipping mogul. They’ve even dug up photos of her with her billionaire ex, looking all smiles and expensive clothes at some big event. The next section shows her shaking hands with Conrad Ferguson outside some restaurant. It speculates that Conrad is her next conquest in a line of men she’s used to propel herself to the top.
It ends with a quote from a woman about seeing Bryn and Conrad together and how devastating it will be for me to have this happen again.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Fury bubbles up inside me, and I clench my phone so hard that it creaks in my grip. How could I have missed the signs? I should’ve seen this coming.
“Fuck,” I sigh, not caring that another group of golfers is nearby, having just finished their own rounds.
I bang my head against the side of my locker, trying to keep myself under control. To maintain my focus. I can feel JT’s eyes on me, but I don’t care. All I can think about is Bryn.
Erica’s voice comes through my phone again, but it sounds distant, like it’s coming from another world. She’s probably saying something about damage control, since the article is coming out online in less than an hour, but right now, I can’t bring myself to care.
I drag my hand through my hair. “Look, this is what I pay you a shitload of money to deal with. So please, just deal with it. I can’t let this derail this tournament.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” Jon says before ending the call.
I turn, throwing my phone back into my locker with more heat than I intended. The screen shatters, a broken spiderweb covering the image of Bryn and me from my lock screen before the whole thing turns black. “Oh, Jesus fuck,” I mumble, reaching back in to grab the destroyed device, desperate to turn it back on.
When the screen refuses to light up for even a second, I hang my head between my legs and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. But the anger lingers, festering like an open wound. How could I have been so blind, so na?ve? I should’ve known better, should’ve seen this coming.
“You okay, man?” JT asks, concern etching his surfer-boy features.
“Yeah…no…I don’t know.” I rub my eyes, rallying my energy to get off this bench and go back to my hotel room. “I’ve got to get my head on straight before tomorrow.”
As I stand, I ask JT, “Did you know that Bryn’s ex-boyfriend was Peter Easley, like the son of the billionaire Easley? Or that she was meeting with Conrad Ferguson?” God. I should’ve listened to my own warning when I told JT that doom was approaching. It had all been too...easy. Smooth. That’s not how life is.
Luckily, I can already feel my brain blurring the edges, forcing me to focus on the goal that is right in front of me—golf.
His face grows more concerned at my question. “Um, no. But it’s not like we are that close. We only hang out if you are there too. I’m sure she...well, I’d think she...” He trails off, clearly unsure if he’s willing to stand up for Bryn.
“Yeah,” I say, sliding into that tunnel vision of focus that has pushed me into the upper echelons of the golf world.
I walk away from the clubhouse and slide into my waiting car before sinking back into my seat. As I stare out my window, my mind is fully on my game, on what I need to change for tomorrow, except for the one thought that breaks through any time I lower my mental shields: She’s not going to get away with this.