It was even harder to keep that smile while he refused to prepare for his first major on-air interview since returning to the mound. We were in Bristol, Connecticut for a taping of SportsCenter and my client was too busy doing pushups to review talking points.
"We have half an hour before you're in makeup," I said, rolling my eyes as he launched into jumping jacks. "You're going to sweat through that shirt—"
"Then find me a new one," he replied.
Ignoring him, I continued, "and you need to clean up your response about learning from your mistakes."
"No mistakes, no remorse," he panted out with each jumping jack. "If they got a problem with that, fuck 'em."
I reached for my water bottle with a sigh. "While I happen to believe fuck 'em is a great philosophy, I can't let you lead with that on ESPN."
He stopped, reached for the floor, and pushed into a handstand as he said, "You're salty as fuck today." From his upside-down perch, he shot a glance at me. "What's wrong with you, honeycakes?"
"Just off the top of my head, you're doing handstands while I'm trying to run through interview responses," I said. "There's also the issue of you texting me your breakfast order as if your trainer isn't sending meals to your house every morning."
"Nah, that's not it," he drawled, kicking out of that position and into another round of pushups. "Are you havin' troubles with your man?"
Like I needed the reminder.
I wanted to put my head down and cry, right here in the green room. Instead, I said, "McKendrick, seriously. We don't have a lot of time and you need to nail this."
"Either you tell me about your man problems," he threatened, "or I drop my pants and go balls out on ESPN. You can tell them it's for my nut cancer advocacy."
I pressed my fingertips to my temples with a sigh. "Why did I ever give you that idea?"
"Come on, lady. This place is boring and I need something to entertain me. Tell me about this man." McKendrick stood, whipped his shirt off. "Is he jealous of me? Doesn't like me sliding into your messages every day and hangin' with you at big parties?" He watched as he flexed his bicep, grinning at the bulge. "I'd be jealous of me."
"Naturally," I replied. "But no, it's not about you. Not really."
His smile widened. "A little bit?"
"No," I said, but then, "I mean, you didn't help."
McKendrick patted his bare abs. "I'm hard to resist."
I spared him an impatient glare. "I'm resisting just fine," I said. "But I think we can agree you're a little extra, Lucian."
He ran his palm over his belly. "I'm a jackass. I like jackassing. That's what my ma calls it, jackassing." He shoved his hand under his belt. I looked away. "Sometimes I do some stupid shit and sometimes I jackass all over the place but I didn't mean to mess up your thing, honeycakes."
Oh, this was it. This was the moment when it all went to shit. When I cried in front of a client and let it all out in the ESPN green room. And it was Lucian McKendrick's fault.
"You didn't, McKendrick." I gulped down a rush of tears. "I'm the problem. It's me."
He zigzagged a finger at me. "Not from where I'm standing it's not."
I gained my feet, turning away from him. I went in search of tissues and when I found them, I made it my business to fold one into a perfect, crisp square. "It's sweet of you to say that but trust me, I'm the issue here. I'm the one who fucked it up. I always do."
"What's this shit?" he asked, right over my shoulder. "You're the fixer. You don't fuck nothing up."
I tossed the tissue square to the side, went for another. "Well, I fucked this up. And I shouldn't be surprised. Not really. I'm always the one they leave."
"You can't drop this shit and expect me to roll with it," he said. "Not without some explaining."
I balled the tissue in my fist as I whirled on him. "You want an explanation? Okay, cool. Cool. You're on camera within the hour but let's spend our time talking about me and how I don't do relationships but I went for it this time. I thought it would be different even though I was scared. I didn't want to get close to another guy only for him to walk away and meet the woman he's going to marry. But I did it and I fucked it up and now it's over."
An unpleasant noise rasped in his throat, something like phlegm and annoyance. "That's someCosmopolitanshit. 'I didn't want to get hurt so I didn't put myself out there.' Like, 'I didn't believe in love until love believed in me.'" He pulled a scowl, shook his head. "I thought you were better than that."
"Not good enough to get out of my own way," I replied. "Sorry to disappoint you."
