Chapter 24 #2
“Keep it up.” Jennifer stands. “And good work on handling the Toronto situation. I know it wasn't ideal to sacrifice your day off, but it shows real dedication.”
Guilt twists sharper. “Just doing my job.”
After she leaves, I sit back in my chair and stare at my computer screen, not really seeing it.
I'm lying to my boss. Hiding a relationship with a client. Compromising my professional integrity for personal reasons.
Everything I swore I'd never do.
But when I think about Liam's smile, about the way he opened up about his family, about rose petals hidden in my suitcase, I can't bring myself to regret it.
Not yet, anyway.
I force myself to focus, diving back into work with renewed intensity. If I'm going to do this. If I'm going to risk everything for Liam, then I need to be damn good at my job. I need to prove that I can handle both the professional and personal without letting either suffer.
An email pops up from Nike's marketing team. I open it, scanning quickly.
Following our recent discussions and Liam's improved public image, Nike would like to discuss featuring him in our upcoming youth sports campaign. The campaign focuses on mentorship, perseverance, and positive role models for young athletes.
My heart soars. This is huge. Nike doesn't just want to continue their endorsement deal; they want to feature him in a major campaign. This is the kind of opportunity that could reshape his entire public image.
I immediately forward the email to Liam.
His response comes within minutes: Holy shit. Is this real?
Me: Very real. Good job.
Liam: This is incredible.
Me: You earned it.
Another email catches my attention, this one from Sports Illustrated. Another offer. They want to feature Liam on their December issue.
We’re getting there. This is everything I've been working toward. Everything I hoped we could achieve with the right PR strategy and behavioral changes.
And Liam did it. He actually did it.
I respond to the Nike and SI emails with professional enthusiasm and promises to coordinate schedules. This is good. This is what success looks like in my job. Major opportunities and positive press.
The fact that I'm also sleeping with said client is just a complicating factor I choose not to examine too closely right now.
By mid-morning, I need a break from emails and decide to check in with Eliana about game coverage.
“Hey,” I say, pulling up a chair beside her. “Do you have a minute to go over Thursday's coverage plan?”
“Sure.” She minimizes a few windows. “I was just pulling engagement metrics from the Toronto game. Want to see?”
She shows me graphs and numbers that all tell the same story. Positive momentum, strong engagement, Liam's content performing well above his historical average.
“This is great,” I tell her. “Really great work, Eliana.”
“Thanks. Though honestly, Liam's been making it easy lately.” She grins. “Whatever you said to him, it worked.”
If she only knew.
“Oh, speaking of practice,” Eliana says, glancing at her watch. “I'm heading over there in about thirty minutes to get some content for social media. Want to come?”
“Sure,” I say. “That would be helpful.”
Thirty minutes later, we're heading toward the practice facility with Eliana chattering about content strategy while I try to calm my racing heart. I'm being ridiculous. I've watched practice before. I've seen Liam on the ice.
This is no different.
Except it is different, because now I know what he looks like first thing in the morning with his hair messy and his voice rough with sleep. I know how he takes his coffee and what makes him laugh.
Players are already on the ice, running drills while Coach barks instructions from the bench.
Eliana immediately pulls out her phone, angling for good shots. “This is gold for social media. Fans love behind-the-scenes practice content.”
I scan the ice, trying not to be obvious about looking for one player in particular.
And then I spot him.
Liam is in full gear, skating backward while handling the puck, laughing at something.
Practice runs for another forty-five minutes, and I spend it trying to look like I'm observing everything while actually just watching Liam.
The way he commands the ice, the natural leadership that emerges when he's playing, the focus and intensity that make him so good at this.
Finally, Coach blows the whistle, and the players start skating off the ice. Eliana positions herself near the tunnel, camera ready.
“The guys always look best right as they're coming off,” she explains. “Still in the zone, but starting to relax. It makes for great authentic shots.”
Cole files past, followed by the others. Eliana captures them all, calling out greetings and getting back natural smiles.
And then Liam emerges.
His helmet is off, and when his eyes land on me, his whole face transforms. His eyes light up, and his expression goes from generic friendliness to pure happiness in a heartbeat.
Eliana captures the moment. “Oh, that's perfect,” she murmurs, checking her screen. “Look at this, Avery.”
She turns her phone toward me. “His expression is so genuine here. Like he's actually happy to be here instead of just going through the motions.”
I force myself to look at the photo analytically, professionally. “It's a good shot. Very natural.”
“Right?” She's already editing it, adjusting the lighting. “I'll post this to Instagram with something about dedication and passion for the game. Fans will eat it up.”
A minute later, my phone buzzes.
Liam: You came to practice.
Me: Eliana invited me. Work purposes.
Liam: Sure. Work purposes.
Me: Behave.
Liam: Where's the fun in that?
I slip my phone back into my pocket, hyperaware of Eliana standing right beside me, still reviewing her photos.
“You know what's funny,” Eliana says conversationally, “I've been covering the Renegades for two years now, and I've never seen Liam look this happy at practice. Whatever you're doing to manage him is seriously working.”
“Just doing my job,” I say automatically.
“Well, keep it up.” She shows me a few more photos. “These are all going to perform great. Oh, hey, are you free tonight? A few of us are grabbing drinks after work. Miles, Liz, maybe Matt if he's not too busy. Want to join?”
“Sure,” I say. “That sounds nice.”
“Great. We usually hit up that bar on Third Avenue. Nothing fancy, just unwinding after work. We'll head over around six?”
We walk back to the office together with Eliana chattering about content strategy while I mentally plan the rest of my day.
Back at the office, I dive into work with renewed focus. The Nike proposal needs to be perfect. It’s the kind of opportunity that could open doors to even more endorsement deals.
I'm deep in drafting talking points when my phone buzzes.
Liam: Dinner tonight? I can cook. Or order in. Or we can go somewhere quiet.
My heart squeezes.
Me: I can't. Going for drinks with some people from the office.
Liam:
Liam: Can I see you after?
Me: You have a game tomorrow. You should rest.
Liam: I'll rest better if I can hold you tonight.
God, this man.
Liam: I know. I know. I'm being clingy. But I spent two days with you and now I'm supposed to just go back to normal and pretend I don't miss you constantly?
Me: We’re taking it easy remember.
Liam: This is me taking it easy. I'm texting you instead of showing up at your apartment like I want to.
Me: Very restrained of you.
Liam: I'm growing as a person.
I let out a laugh.
Me: Get some rest tonight. Focus on Thursday's game. After you win, we'll figure something out.
Liam: When I win. Not if. You have faith in me, remember?
Me: When you win.
Liam: That's my girl.
I set my phone down, that warm feeling spreading through my chest again. This is dangerous territory. Missing him like this, needing to see him, planning our next meeting like it's the most important thing in the world.
But I can't seem to stop myself.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of work. By six o'clock, I've finalized the Nike proposal, coordinated with SI about potential interview dates, and reviewed all of Thursday's game coverage with Eliana.
“Ready for drinks?” Liz pops her head into my office. “Miles and Eliana are already heading out.”
I close my laptop and grab my purse. “Okay, ready.”
The bar is a ten-minute walk from the office, a casual place with dark wood and exposed brick that's clearly popular with the after-work crowd. Miles and Eliana have already claimed a corner booth and are waving us over.
“First round is on me,” Miles announces. “We're celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?” I ask, sliding into the booth.
“Avery Carter joining us for drinks, obviously. It only took, what, three weeks?” He grins. “You're officially one of us now.”
I laugh. This is nice.
We order drinks and settle into easy conversation about work and upcoming events.
“So,” Eliana says, pointing her cocktail at me. “How do you really feel about managing Liam? Off the record.”
“Off the record?” I take a sip of wine. “He's challenging. But he's also not what I expected.”
“In a good way?” Liz asks.
“In a complicated way.” I choose my words carefully. “The public sees one version of him. The real person is more nuanced.”
“That's diplomatic,” Miles says. “Come on, give us something. What's he really like?”
“He's impulsive,” I admit. “But he's also surprisingly thoughtful when he wants to be. And he's actually trying to change, which is more than a lot of clients in his position would do.”
“The puppy thing was genius,” Eliana says. “Whether it was intentional PR or just Liam being Liam, it worked.”
“It wasn't intentional,” I tell them. “He genuinely couldn't stand the thought of those puppies being put down. Everything else was just us managing the story afterward.”
“That's even better,” Liz says. “Authentic moments always play better than manufactured ones.”