Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Aside from the jeweler’s question, Trent was even more startled when Charlie responded first with a shy smile and a modicum of poise. Maybe it was a woman thing to have thought about all these details before.
“We’ll be back for the wedding bands once we’ve set the date. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
She sounded genuine. Trent stepped up and noted how impressed and taken his jeweler was with Charlie as Trent slid his gold card across the counter and the man took it with a discreet nod.
Trent had never had a problem with the man taking advantage or charging too much.
That’s why he’d stuck with him on Tammy’s recommendation.
Shit. He still had to explain the engagement to his sister. Without telling the truth.
Trent saw the TV trucks the second he walked off the elevator into the lobby of his building—at eight in the morning. Not a good sign.
“There’s a crowd out there, Mr. Lockheed. You want to head straight for the parking garage today—I’ll get your coffee for you.”
“You’re a saint, Irish.” Trent took a twenty from his wallet and gave it to the doorman. “I’ll swing around to our spot and pick it up.” He headed back to the elevators and down to the garage below before anyone noticed him—or at least before they could catch up with him.
Getting in his low-slung super-black ‘Vette in a less-than-smooth move, Trent checked his watch. He remembered when he’d first bought the ‘Vette two short years ago—he hadn’t had a problem lowering himself into the car in one easy motion back then.
Today he was getting his third shot of the drug.
A zip of anticipation went through him. It could have been excitement about the anticipated effects from the miracle drug turning back the clock on his aging body.
Or it could have been excitement about the anticipated company of the miracle worker herself. Charlie.
“Goddamn it.” He drove the car up the ramp to the street.
He realized what all the media was about.
It was about her. The story about his engagement to her must have gotten legs.
Only three stinking days into it. Better that story than a story about me on experimental HGH.
He swung around to the front left corner of the building and met Irish, who handed him his coffee in a Dunkin’ bag, then banged a right and headed for East Boston to the stadium.
He parked his car as close to the player personnel entrance as he could get, but the two security guards still had to walk him to the doors and keep the unauthorized press outside.
That still left lots of press inside, including two television sports news outlets.
Maybe they wouldn’t be as interested in the engagement story. He hoped to hell not.
That notion was dispelled as soon as he pushed his way into the locker room to find more reporters than players filling the room with a buzz.
“There he is, the soon-to-be groom. Hey, how does it feel to say goodbye to bachelorhood?” Mike Foley was there of course, representing one of Boston’s best local sports stations. He slapped Trent on the back. Mike notably did not have a microphone on him.
“Damn good.”
“Can’t wait to talk to her. Let’s schedule an interview—later today?”
Shit. He should have anticipated this. In the nick of time, Nunley shoved his way over.
“Trent—this way. Let’s work the shoulder.” He followed Nunley back to the training room.
Trent closed the door behind him with restraint. He’d rather have slammed it.
“The sports media came out early for this story—about me supposedly getting engaged? Really?”
“What can I say? Your personal life has always been a part of your story around here. You know that,” Nunley said. “What are you going to say to them? You gonna confirm it? What about Charline?”
“I’m calling her right now to tell her to stay away today. We’ll do my injection later.”
Nunley shook his head. “That ain’t gonna work, I’ll tell you right now.”
Trent took out his phone and keyed her number in from memory. As a precaution, he hadn’t added her to his contacts. “We’ll see about that.” He waited through a few rings and got her voice mail. He didn’t bother leaving a message.
“Well?”
“Well, it’s time to face the music. I’m goddamn engaged. And since she put the story out there, she damn well better be prepared to deal with the media flak.” He pushed off the training table where he’d been leaning and headed toward the door.
“Wait—don’t you think I ought to put something on that shoulder in the meantime?”
Trent stopped and closed his eyes, not remembering when he’d been so out of sorts, unless he counted his last concussion.
After Nunley dressed his shoulder with the latest in topical relaxing and numbing agents, probably no better than good old-fashioned Bengay, he took a step toward the door. Before he could reach for the handle it swung open and his beloved rushed in.
“Damn, Trent. You could have given me a heads-up.” She sounded breathless, her pink cheeks glowing, as she moved directly to the tray table and popped open her black bag.
“No one gave me a heads-up either. But we knew we’d need to deal with the media.”
She shook her head and got busy.
“I thought we were going to dispense with the black doctor’s bag.”
She didn’t bother looking at him. The needle was already in her hand and she was loading it with the miracle drug. “I needed it today. Brought some supplies—for emergencies. In case Nunley needs to back me up.” She nodded her head in Nunley’s direction.
“It’s wonderful to see you this morning—dear. You look all excited to be engaged to the most eligible bachelor in Boston.”
That got her to look up at him. She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll play my part. After I take care of you.” She lifted the needle in his direction. “You ready?”
He was ready all right. He nodded and pulled the Under Armour jersey over his head so she could inject his shoulder. When she was finished with her mini examination of him, she stepped back and he put his shirt back on.
She sighed. The room was quiet and he wondered what the hell she was thinking. Wondered if she felt the same rush of—something—that he was feeling at the prospect of officially announcing to the world that they were engaged.
“You two ready?” Nunley said, pushing past them to the door.
They stared at each other and he decided she was just as jacked, panicked, and anxious about it as he was.
“Let’s do it,” he said and put his arm around her, pulling her in to his side.
“How bad could it be?” She’d resisted his pull for a moment, then gave in and melted against him, slipping an arm around his back. He felt her fingers through his jersey and tried not to let her touch distract him.
Nunley opened the door and they followed him out. The sensation felt a lot like running up the middle behind his blockers with his head down. He couldn’t see the linebackers coming, but he knew he was about to get slammed.
“Since when did you become Lockheed’s PR guy?” Foley said to Nunley and pushed past him to shove a microphone at Trent the instant he crossed the threshold with Charlie hugged against him tight in the crook of his arms.
“Since you started invading the locker room during practice prep time.”
“Ms. Morneau—can I call you Charline? How does it feel to be engaged to the most eligible bachelor in Boston? Are you a football fan? Do you—”
“It’s Dr.—”
“Hey, slow down.” Trent spread his free hand in a stop sign as the various reporters and TV cameras crowded in around them. Flash bulbs started going off and he moved them toward the center of the room. Nunley acted like a blocker and got them some breathing space. The locker room door was open.
“How about if we do this at a more opportune time in a more comfortable—and appropriate location,” he said.
“What are you doing in the training room with Trent, Charline—Doc—Are you treating him?” That got laughs.
“No, I—”
“Why are you at practice? Early—like Trent?”
“Isn’t it obvious—she can’t stand being away from me,” Trent said.
She looked up at him with what he would describe as an adoring smile if he didn’t know better and said, “I’m still learning football.
I want to be at as many practices as I can to learn and to support Trent.
” She faced the reporters, smiled for the cameras while they flashed around her and the TV cameras were running.
“Is that going to interfere with your routine, Trent?”
“Not nearly as much as you all are interfering.” He grinned and thanked his stars he had a good rapport with the press. For the most part. He hoped to God they cut him a break on this. There were a few chuckles.
A couple of his teammates showed in the doorway, shaking their heads at the scene.
One of the reporters turned and asked, “What do you think of Trent’s engagement? Were you surprised?”
“Hell yeah. Never seen her before a few days ago when she showed up. But Trent knows how to pick ‘em.” The big man nodded his head in Trent’s direction and slid his eyes over Charlie.
“So, this is a big surprise to everyone. Any reason for the hasty engagement?” The reporter stared at Charlie with a suspicious, knowing smile as if accusing her of something.
Trent felt like a teenager for the first time in a long time, like he’d been caught doing something His blood rose.
He turned and angled himself protectively in front of Charlie who he noted went from anxious to puzzled to horrified to angry and around again in the span of two seconds.
“Charlie and I have been a private couple until now and we’d appreciate your consideration going forward.
There’s nothing hasty about our engagement.
We’ve set the date for April 12th and we can’t wait to start our life together then.
I’ll be releasing a further statement later through my agent—you all know his number.
He’ll set up other opportunities for you to talk with both of us. ”
“What about photo ops with the bride to be?” A chorus chimed in with the refrain.
“Sure. I get it. It’s all about the pretty lady from here on in.” He grinned and nodded at Nunley and his teammates. They knew it was time to clear the room and so that’s what they did while he held onto his newly-minted fiancée with the diamond ring flashing on her hand.
If he thought that was as bad as it could get, then Trent was wrong.
He managed to get himself onto the practice field ahead of the regularly scheduled practice though not at his usual time, leaving Charlie on the sidelines, where Nunley promised to babysit her as much as he could in between his duties.
An hour into his warmup, he glanced over again to check on her.
She was sitting next to his teammate Jamie Jones’s wife.
He breathed a sigh as she smiled and waved.
He didn’t detect any uneasiness or anger under the smile.
She must be enjoying it. The knowledge relieved the slight bunching in his shoulders as he automatically rolled them and hunched them forward in a stretch.
But before he turned back to the field, he swept his gaze around toward the tunnel and saw his worst nightmare tramping through the opening with a head of steam.
His sister Tammy.