Chapter 14
Francesca
The touching, the texts, God what did I get myself into?
Is he serious? It almost felt like he had more he wanted to say.
Does he want me? Of course, he wants me, I’m a female and I’m available to him.
It doesn’t mean more than that to him. This is mixed up on so many levels.
Taking a breath and turning back to my girls conversation, I watch as a drunken bridal party approaches the table where the guys are sitting.
The bride is literally throwing herself at Jackson and the boys are brushing them off, but they just won’t leave.
“Do you guys see this?” I say to the girls, nodding towards the guy’s table and the vultures who are circling.
We watch as Billy seems entertained, and I see Jackson pushing her arm away, but these girls just won’t take a hint.
I take another shot and slam my drink down on the table.
Wow, I’m... mad? Jealous? I mean, of course I am.
I never liked when girls threw themselves at Jackson.
They know nothing about him except that he can throw touchdown passes.
That’s not a reason to take your clothes off for someone.
“This is new.” Farrah watches me with a raised brow. “Something upsetting you, Chess?”
Britt says, “She finally spoke it out loud and all those emotions are surfacing!”
I wave my hands at them. “Whether I said it out loud or not, it’s all fake, so it doesn’t matter, but we’re in public. He’s not supposed to be single in public.”
Farrah observes, “Oh, there’s nothing fake about this.” She’s circling my face with her finger and then pointing to Jackson as well.
“Go get your man if you’re so upset by it.”
“We’re trying to show a healthy relationship and he can’t be out at a bar with women coming up to him.” I’m stalling, making excuses. I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle this.
“He can’t help when women approach him,” Britt remarks.
“He can stay home, though!” My hindsight is flashing twenty/twenty like a neon sign. Jackson is going to break me.
“Our plan was to all be together, so I don’t understand why, after an hour, you still have us on one side of the bar and the boys on the other if you want people to think you two are together.
” Britt pauses, then stands. Pulling out a hair tie from her purse, she wraps her hair into a ponytail.
“I’m going to go cause a scene. I’ll be right back. ”
I stand and latch onto her arm. “No! Fine. I’m going over there.” Ugh! Britt always knows how to play me just right to get a reaction. “You two coming?”
They both leer at me. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
We grab our drinks and walk to the table, and I tap the girl on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, but I believe this table has already been spoken for.” The girls look me up and down, especially the bride, as I grab Jackson and pull him up beside me. He grins, his dimple popping as he rises to his full height next to me, and I wrap myself around him.
“We were just saying hello.” The bride slurs her words.
“That’s nice. Now say goodbye.” I lace my fingers with Jackson's and pull him to the dance floor with me.
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulls me in close and whispers, “Jealousy looks good on you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not jealous, but if we’re trying to portray ‘us’ as an actual couple, we need to make it look so.”
He pulls me a little closer and nuzzles into my neck. I play right back with it, sliding his leg between mine and running my hands down his back. He pulls back slightly, brows furrowed, and asks in a low tone, “What are you doing?”
“This is all a show, correct? I’m putting on a show.” I’m going to hate myself in the morning for this slip up, but I need to be close to him. I’m finally allowed to be and I want to take advantage of it.
Plus, I can always blame it on the alcohol.
“Ok showgirl, show me what you got.”
The song switches over to a slower one and Jason Aldean’s voice comes over the speakers as we sway.
I let out a breath, “Jackson, if we’re going to do this, you need to avoid situations like that.”
“Green is a good color on you—”
“I’m just saying that if we are together, you need to avoid–”
He interrupts me. “It’s okay, you can be mad.”
“You have to try to avoid the girls who approach you. The ones who are looking to cause a scene. The press will pick it up and make it look worse, make it look as if you’re cheating.”
“You can tell me, you know.”
I throw up my hands and try to step back, but his arms lock around my waist so all I end up doing is pushing my chest into his. “Fine! You’re right! It made me mad.”
“There she is,” he says.
“I’m putting on a show like we’re supposed to be doing,” I reply curtly, annoyed he called me out.
“We’re still doing that?”
“Jackson, stop.”
He laughs lightly, acting innocent. “Stop what?”
“You’ve been drinking. Don’t confuse what we’re doing here.”
“I’ve had two beers; you’re the one shooting truth serum.”
“Truth serum? All I said was I was mad those girls were all over you. I mean, all over all of you. It’s disrespectful. I’m sure they saw the press release; they know who you are and that you’re taken.”
“Taken, huh? I like how that sounds.”
We stare at each other for a few moments. I’m lost in his chocolate eyes. Is this still a show?
“Yo, Gage!” I hear my brother call out, and it pulls me from my trance. “Gage!”
“Jackson, Adam is calling. You better turn around.”
He spins us slowly, making eye contact, and Adam says, “Watch those hands.”
I cringe and drop my head as Jackson calls back to him, “She’s mine now, Casanova.”
My heart races and I lift my head, my eyes connecting with Jackson, surprise on my face, he has nothing but smug written all over his.
“Still playing the part?” I question.
“That’s up to you,” he replies. I furrow my brows and stare at him, trying to understand what he’s getting at and what’s happening right now.
These feelings that I have, the look on his face plus the anger that’s rolling off of Adam, leaves me confused.
When I remain silent, he shakes his head and takes my hands as we walk off the dance floor back to the table. I trail behind, my mind spinning.
* * *
The next morning, I wake up tired. I didn’t sleep, replaying the night and our conversation, in my head. We wanted the town to see us as a couple—touchy, lovey and together with our group. Showing that our friends and families are all accepting and excited about us.
This was all part of the plan. So why am I having second thoughts about what it all means? We agreed it was platonic. I’m just helping him out. This is typical of me, though, it’s what I do. Spiral with my thoughts, thinking there’s more. Trusting too quickly.
I trusted Jackson once, and he left.
I trusted Nick, and he used me.
Trying to distract myself and carry on, I’m scanning through my emails and get a list of upcoming events close to our area.
As a rep, we continually get lists of events that will showcase our clients in the best light.
It’s always good recognition for the player, as well as the team, to show up and rub elbows with the higher ups.
I see an event for next weekend in a town about an hour away.
It’s a fundraiser for the youth leagues in Texas.
Raising money to build a new community center and make sports available for those kids whose parents can’t afford it.
This is right up Jackson’s alley, as he was that kid.
If it wasn’t for my family stepping in, he wouldn’t have made it to the NFL.
I don’t say that with any kind of pride, either.
It was never something we held over him.
My parents loved him, still love him as a son and were so damn proud to give him what he needed.
I copy down the information, then submit our names for two tickets.
I send off the info to Tony as well and request a guest list. I don’t believe Nick would venture out this far, but you never know.
If I can see if he’s planning on attending, I can prepare us or request a table far enough away from him.
I view the contract Jackson has with a top brand sneaker company.
It’s set for renewal, and we need to decide if he wants to join again.
It’s always good to stay active, even if the contract diminishes in price or viewership.
It’s all about keeping your reputation and name in the public, as you never know what door will open next.
Reading the details, I see it’s just about the same as last year’s, but Tony’s cut gains an extra two percent.
For what? His cut is already high. Why is Jackson signing off on this?
He didn’t bargain with anyone, just changed his percentage, and forwarded the contract to Jackson asking him to sign it and send back.
I lean back in my chair. Is this overstepping if I question him?
I don’t want him thinking I’m getting into his personal financial dealings.
He asked me to look over his contracts, though, so I guess he would appreciate my input.
I jot a couple notes down, then go onto the next, which is a new contract with a local sports drink.
The owner is a local up-and-coming entrepreneur and adding Jackson’s name would boost his sales tremendously and get him right on the map.
I skim through again, seeing it’s a very minute amount, but this is something Jackson would want to do.
He wants to help those just starting out and the money won’t concern him.
What concerns me is Tony’s cut again. An agent that’s been with Jackson for as long as he has should not be making a killing off his long-term clients. Plus, they are friends. I take down a few more details and make a note to go over this with Jackson.