Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Cat
Running on adrenaline, I raced to Dad’s office, hoping he was there and not in the locker room.
I’d never get to him if he was down with the team.
Rushing past his receptionist, I pushed through his office door, relieved to find him pacing in front of his desk.
He looked up at me and grunted, then stopped moving.
“Hell of a mess, Cat.”
“I know. It looks bad, but I have a plan. I have everything under control. You just need to trust me—”
“You? Last time I looked you’re not a criminal defense attorney and that’s what the boy needs right now.” He shook his head.
“Don’t worry, Dad. He’s innocent. I’ve already started a strong defense on social media, attacking the legitimacy of the video—”
“You check with the front office on this?”
I stopped, pled with him silently. “No. But Dad, he’s innocent. The video was edited to make him look bad. We can’t let some horrible opportunistic woman ruin his life.”
My dad came to me and wrapped his arms around me, then, like a real dad would, unlike any coach would do. I held on, held my tears of fear at bay. Taking strength from him, I regrouped.
I backed up.
“Management wants to talk to him. The company attorney wants to talk to him. Hell, I want to talk to him. Where is he, Cat?”
“He’s safe.” I laughed at my melodrama. Dad didn’t laugh, didn’t crack a smile.
“We have a game tomorrow in Buffalo at eight p.m. You have until game time to deliver him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll keep the dogs off you, let them know he’s getting his affairs in order.
I won’t tell them you’re helping him. Won’t tell them you’re the one talking to him.
Let them think it’s me who’s in communication.
Which means you keep me in the loop. No surprises.
Use my personal cell. I’ll keep it on me. ”
He took a cell phone from his pocket and gave it to me. “Hunter left this in his locker.” He went to his desk and sat.
I dashed from the office, newly energized, adrenaline pumping again, plan jumping through my head.
On my way back to the office I called Penny and asked her to bring a change of men’s clothes and shoes in Hunter’s sizes and to get to my office as soon as she could. When she arrived, Hunter changed and I gave him his phone, the keys to my car, and the keys to my apartment.
“Go there and lie low. I have plenty of food. No takeout, no contact with the public whatsoever.”
He gave me a look that fried me from my socks to the roots of my hair.
It was part censure, part raw hunger, and all Hunter, the essence of what I loved.
Because I did love him. All defenses against him dissolved, and I threw myself into his arms. He caught me, indulged me by wrapping his arms around me.
“Ahem,” Penny said. “Better get a move on.”
He let me go and left with that graceful speed that he was known for by fans everywhere.
“That is one fine-looking young man,” Penny said as she closed the door. She wiggled her eyebrows at me and I half laughed, half cried.
“Hey, get over your emotional tantrum, Kitty Cat, you have some work to do. He’s counting on you. I think Coach might be counting on you too.”
I nodded, swiped at my tears, and swore I’d be the picture of professional propriety from now until Hunter was out of this mess.
“What can I do?” Penny asked.
I pushed my computer at her and said, “Check my e-mails for me and respond with profuse apologies. I defended Hunter on social media on behalf of the team and the PR director, the VP of Marketing—the owner’s son—all read me the riot act.
Virtually, by e-mail. Apologize profusely and make them rash promises that I won’t interfere. ”
Penny took the computer and scanned it while I looked up a number on my phone’s contact list.
“Cat, this e-mail says the team will not be providing an attorney.”
“I know. I didn’t think they would. I called the Players Association and they’ll be sending someone, but not until tomorrow. That could be too late.”
I sat in the guest chair as I called a sorority sister.
She also happened to be a top defense attorney in the Boston area.
Ten years my senior, I’d met her at a social the year before and knew she was a true believer in innocent until proven guilty.
I was way out on a limb, but I felt fine.
The only danger I could see was the danger to Hunter.
The love of my life. I felt a burn in my gut at the internal acknowledgment of my feelings, but it felt good not to suppress them anymore.
Rainey Davis, my sorority sister, answered my call and I explained the situation.
“When can I meet with him?”
“How about in thirty minutes?”
Hunter’s new defense attorney arrived at my door at 2 p.m. that afternoon, minutes after I arrived there.
I’d brought Penny with me and sent her on a mission to Brooks Brothers to buy Hunter a new mini wardrobe including a good suit.
She used the household credit card Dad had given her and didn’t even flinch at the stretch.
Answering the door, I said, “I can’t thank you enough for helping us out.” I brought Rainey inside to meet Hunter. We both wore dark blue suits and low-heeled pumps in honor of the serious occasion.
“Nonsense. To be honest, I’m thrilled to be called on a celebrity case. What’s the status with the Players Association?”
“They’re sending someone, but he won’t arrive until tomorrow. He’ll be sitting second chair. If it comes to that.” I looked at the clock.
Hunter sat on the couch in the living room texting someone on his phone. He looked up.
“My mother. I reassured her none of it was true.”
“I’m so sorry, Hunter.” I introduced him to Rainey.
After we sat down, she wasted no time.
“I made some calls on my way over here since you’re pressed for time.
According to her attorney, this woman intends to file criminal charges, but hasn’t yet.
The press got it wrong, but they’re going in this afternoon.
I’ve talked to the DA since I have his cell on speed dial and asked them to allow us to come in on his own instead of sending someone out to arrest him as soon as the files are charged.
If you can get him there in the next hour, the DA will meet us at the precinct and we can get him arraigned and out on bail before the session closes for the day. ”
“There’s press camped out at Wyatt’s place,” Hunter said. “He just texted me.”
“You can stay with me, for the duration,” I said. “No need to involve Wyatt in this. The press doesn’t know where I live. They barely know who I am. Besides, they don’t know you’re with me.”
Rainey nodded in approval. Hunter glared at me.
“What are your other options?” I said. It was a rhetorical question. He let out a long-suffering sigh.
After the session with Rainey where Hunter went through the chain of events that night a dozen times, his patience in check while I paced around, I knew I had to get him out of this. We had to get to court.
I’d made a call to Coach to let him know we had an attorney and she would get him out on bail. With Dad’s insistence, the team agreed to take no action against Hunter until and unless he was proven guilty. Dad warned me the league would be another matter. I begged him to hold them off.
“We have a plan to handle this, Dad. I promise you charges will be dropped. He’ll be cleared in the press. I know it.”
I waited only a couple of beats for him to agree, to back me, to trust my judgment, and I was elated. I felt genuinely like a part of his team and, more importantly, like the daughter of a proud dad.
Of course, I hadn’t mentioned the part about Hunter staying at my place. Let him assume he’d be staying at a hotel. With any luck, it would never come up.