Chapter 4
JETT
The dread worsens when I see the other cars parked on the street outside my house.
As we approach the front door, Brooke gives me a stiff smile, rubbing her hands together from the cold. She’s my PR specialist, slash the babysitter Nuclear assigned me. Jason, the sponsor liaison, shakes hands with Dan.
I let everyone inside, our footsteps echoing through the expansive entry as we enter the large foyer.
My place is modern, all straight lines and wooden beams, and a lot more house than I need.
But I had the money when it came up for sale, so I bought it on a whim.
It’s close enough to the village, but far enough away that I can maintain my privacy.
I kick off my snow crusted boots and toss my fur-lined parka on the bench beside the door, before striding into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. As if I don’t have enough beer on me already.
Luckily, it’s mostly dried now, but I can still smell myself, and how badly I could use a shower. I have a feeling that Brooke and Jason won’t be willing to wait.
“Anyone else want one?” I offer, holding up my bottle and popping off the cap using the fridge magnet bottle opener I bought at one of the tourist shops in town. It’s shaped like a moose head, the antlers forming a hook that opens the lid.
None of them utter a word as they convene in my living room. Brooke sits stiffly on the chair by the fireplace, her brown hair slicked back into a low bun that means business. Jason stands with his hands in the pockets of his black dress pants.
“No? More for me I guess.”
I cross the living room to join them, flopping down on my large, low rectangular sectional.
“Listen, Jett…” Dan starts, and I can tell by the expression on his face that he’s in lecturing mode.
“Dan, if this is about Bella, she overreacted,” I argue. “I slept with her last night. She thought she could stand at the end of the run today, but security removed her, and I didn’t stop them. It was a casual hookup.”
“What?” He stammers, rubbing his fingers between his furrowed brows. “No, I’m not talking about whatever petty fight you got into at a bar, Jett. I’m not sure that’s why she threw her drink in your face, anyway.”
“We’re here because of the scandal you’ve been caught up in. It’s breaking the internet,” Brooke cuts in.
My pulse quickens. “Scandal?”
My team has had many choice words when it comes to my actions over the years but never has the S word been thrown around. I glance between them, searching their faces to gauge how much hot water I’m in.
“Jett, your picture is all over social media,” she explains in a slow and measured tone, looking down to fact check herself on her phone before giving me more context.
It’s the start of the ski season, of course my picture is on the internet. But my stomach drops when Brooke turns her phone to show me the photo she’s talking about.
My hand is grazing a woman’s back, she’s turned away from the camera, going into a hotel room accompanied by three other women. Anyone would know her from her side profile. She’s a well-known influencer, and the girlfriend of another Nuclear skier.
“You’re fucking kidding me.” I catch myself before I start shouting. “That’s what we’re talking about?”
“The internet is calling you out for your behaviour. It’s bad, Jett,” Brooke says.
Anger sizzles under my skin, because this is not what it looks like, and I’m not that guy. Am I cocky and arrogant when it comes to skiing? Yeah. Do I tend to sleep around? Sure. But I’m not an asshole about it like people assume. Like the media portrays.
I’m careful.
I’m careful with protection, I’m careful with feelings, and I’m careful to ensure that whoever I’m sleeping with is available. Always.
I stand up from the couch, beer coming close to sloshing out the top of the bottle. I pace by the wall of windows, considering how I’m going to explain this in a way that will convince everyone that this wasn’t what it looked like.
“Somehow you managed to stick it the one place you shouldn’t.” Dan scrubs a hand down his face. “Multiple places, by the looks of it.”
I can see the deep lines in his face, grey hairs on his temples. He’s been like a second father to me, and he worries about me like one.
I certainly haven’t given him an easy time. He’s probably already been on the phone for hours with my lawyers, and a whole team of people trying desperately to simultaneously get to the bottom of this and scrub the internet clean of it.
“I didn’t stick it anywhere, Dan,” I snap, my fury rising to the surface at the irony of this bullshit accusation.
“She was piss drunk after a party, falling all over the place, completely incoherent. A few guys were looking her up and down as if she was prey, and her boyfriend was nowhere to be found. I loaded her and her friends into the car and took her back to her hotel room. I never went inside. You can ask my driver. He took me straight home.”
Dan squints at me, assessing my explanation and judging its believability. He lets out an exasperated sigh, as if accepting my answer. Still, I feel the need to defend myself further.
“I promise you, Dan,” I say. “I never went in that room.”
“I believe you,” he sighs. “You’re a fuck up in a lot of ways, Jett, but not like this.”
I nod at Dan, my mouth in a tight line, but when I glance around the room, Brooke and Jason have their eyes fixed on my cowhide rug.
“Why are your faces like that?” I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer. My gut is already roiling.
“As you know, Chase Montgomery has strong values,” Jason starts, and I nod along.
I knew this about the Nuclear CEO. I was surprised he wanted to sponsor me in the first place, since my reputation long preceded this turn of events. I’ve toned it down since I’ve been back at training, and since I signed with them.
They made sure to include an ironclad morality clause in my contract, legally forcing me to be on my best behaviour. I balked at it, and just about tore the contract in half, until Dan reminded me that there wasn’t any other sponsor willing to sign me after my devastating ACL tear last season.
They’re my last shot to go to the World Cup, so I’m not about to fuck it up.
“He did not take this news well. He said it was a poor reflection on his brand. He’s in a tough position.”
“I’ve already been bombarded with calls from other athletes sharing concerns of favouritism,” Brooke adds.
Fuck.
“Okay well, they’re being whiny babies about it. I’m the favourite for a lot of reasons. I’m a superior athlete, for one,” I argue. “What am I supposed to do about that?”
“We’re working on a statement you’ll need to release,” Brooke starts, but she’s cut off by Dan, holding his hand up.
“Jett, I don’t know if you understand what’s happening,” he says.
I study his stern expression.
“Nuclear isn’t sure if they want to back you for Worlds,” Jason finishes.
I recoil. They aren’t sure if they can back me for Worlds? They threw me a party with a goddamned DJ. I’m their top athlete. I’m the top athlete. Besides last year when I was out, I won more competitions and earned more than their entire roster. Including their snowboarders.
It’s been a year of working my ass off in physio to get back to this point. And now they suddenly aren’t sure about me?
“Because of the stupid morality clause?” I ask, my tone turning snappier and snarkier by the second. A defensive wall forms around me. “I’ve told you my side, that this was all a misunderstanding.”
“I get it, man,” Jason answers. “Look, your reputation is not great. We all know there’s a constant stream of women coming in and out of this place.”
That is objectively not true as of a few months ago. Apart from last night, this place has been a virtual monastery.
“It’s not a good look for Nuclear,” he adds.
Jason turns away, and I can tell that he’s squirming in his tight-fitting suit.
“Okay, so what do you want me to do?” I sound desperate.
I stretch a hand up and lean on it against the window, taking a large gulp of my beer.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to at this point, but I need to go to Worlds this year.
That’ll be the end of my career. Nuclear pays for everything.
Everything. Including both of you.” I gesture towards Brooke and Jason.
I may be wealthy, but even I can’t afford everything it will take to get me to the World Cup.
The training, the equipment, paying my entire team.
Not to mention the fact that the International Ski and Snowboard Federation doesn’t allow unsponsored athletes at the event.
I need this sponsorship. I’ll only have myself to blame if I lose it.
“We’ll release the statement, and go from there,” Brooke says.
I look to Jason, because ultimately there’s nothing to do if Chase has already made up his mind.
“You make Nuclear a fuck ton of money, even Chase knows that,” Jason admits. “Clean up your reputation, set the record straight, and you might have a shot at this thing.”
“Okay,” I concede.
Dan places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. He’s gotten me out of some rough situations in the past, but even I know that this might be beyond his scope.
“And in the meantime?”
Dan considers for a moment, and I glance at Brooke. She’s the PR expert here.
“Lay low,” she instructs. “Don’t make any public appearances until your next competition.
The media is going to go feral over this.
In fact, maybe it’s best that you aren’t in Banff at all right now.
Find somewhere to hide out until we sort this out or it all blows over. Can you go back to Heartwood?”
“I can figure something out.” Something that isn’t spending the busiest time of the ski season in my sleepy little hometown.
“Just figure it out quickly, okay? The internet is blowing up with this,” Brooke warns. “And stay out of the comment section. If we do end up getting Nuclear back on board, we don’t need all the hate comments getting in your head.”
“There are hate comments?” I groan. The comment section is always a little like playing Russian roulette, but usually they’re commenting on my ego, on my form, or—in recent months—whether I’m going to make a comeback after my injury. Though I wouldn’t ever call it outright hate.
“You’re not very popular right now,” Dan admits. “Delete your apps. Only pick up the phone if it’s one of us or an immediate family member. Okay?”
Brooke and Jason get up and make to leave.
“Got it.”
“I mean it, Jett. We’re in crisis mode right now. No funny business. Enjoy the holidays with your family, and whatever you do, keep a low profile.”
“I hear you, Dan.”
“And go take a fuckin’ shower. You reek of booze.”
Once I’m showered, I get changed into my sweats and head back to the kitchen. The house is almost too quiet now that my whole team has left. And I’m left alone with my thoughts.
My body is more relaxed now, but my mind is still racing, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
Opening the fridge, I groan when I realize I’ve drank the last few bottles of beer and there’s none left. But I’m nothing if not a determined fucker, so I throw on my coat and head outside into the cold to walk to the bar down the street.
To hell with “keep a low profile.”
There’s no way anyone could spin a photo of me sulking alone at a bar, anyway. Maybe it’ll earn me some pity.
The place is busy when I step inside, but I spot an empty seat at the bar top and order myself a pint as I sit down.
I take the first few sips of the cool, amber liquid, and I’m finally able to process everything that happened today. And honestly? Fuck whoever took that picture and posted it without knowing the whole story. Fuck the world for believing everything they see on the internet.
But most of all, fuck me for not considering that my reputation might catch up to me one day. That even my most well-intentioned actions are now coloured by the way people perceive me. I take another numbing sip of my beer at the thought.
The bar is filling up even more now, and patrons crowd behind me to put their orders in with the bartender. I used to love crowded bars, I lived for a good party, a wild night out. Now, though, all I can think about is whether people have noticed me, and if they know about the scandal.
Maybe Dan and Brooke are right. Maybe it’s best if I hideout in Heartwood for a while.
I think about where I would even stay. I used to spend summers with my brother, Hudson. However, since Wren came back to town and moved into his apartment, I don’t tend to crash there anymore. I don’t want to intrude.
Mason and Ally have their hands full with their toddler and my neice, Hazel, they don’t need another full grown child to look after.
But I could always ask Grady. He has a guest suite in his basement.
I was planning on making a quick visit over Christmas, so he might be okay with me staying for a couple weeks longer.
I chug the last few sips of beer and slide the glass across the counter before pulling out my phone and finding my brother’s contact.
Any room at the inn? I need somewhere to stay for a bit.
GRADY
I don’t know, will it just be you, or your whole harem?
Where I go, they go.
No, it’s just me.
You know you can always stay here. But you’ll need to abide by my open-door policy, no girls in the bedroom.