I was used to reading locker rooms full of men, calling plays, getting to the damn point. Not this. Mel had that edge again, thefull suit of emotional armor she’d worn since her parents showed up.
“What’s going on? Has there been news about the fraud?”
She exhaled bitterly. “The Ponzi scheme has a solution. You fight it in court, or you swallow the loss.” Her fingers tightened on the spoon, a faint tremor mirroring her frustration, then she pinned me with her gaze. “What doesn’t have a solution is my mother inviting my ex to my sister’s graduation, and yes, he’s really coming,” she ranted. “Everyone else keeps moving forward. I’m the one stuck standing still, with the past circling around to take a second look.”
My back stiffened. I wasn’t expecting this raw, punch-to-the-gut rant.
She shook her head. “Anyway, not your problem.”
That line hit. My jaw clenched. I hated it. I heard it from Abby the night she showed up with Cassy and a suitcase full of broken marriage. It was deflection, as if pain had to be carried alone to be real.
Maybe I wasn’t great with words, but for Mel to sit here firing off sharp, bitter lines and then telling me to back off? It struck a nerve. She didn’t give me a choice to make it my problem; she dismissed that I could offer something, even small.
“I don’t know who you think I am, Mel, but when I said you could ask for help, I wasn’t playing some white-knight crap. I meant it.” My voice sliced.
“Really? Any type of help, Sean? Even in the middle of an ambush, you would?”
She was pushing my buttons and that was the worst thing to do.
“Try me,” I shot back.
We stared at each other, the air crackling between us, neither of us blinking. A silent negotiation over ice cream.
“Graduation party next Saturday. You show up as my fake date.”
“What?”
I blinked first. She blinked second.
I hadn’t seen that coming. A fake date? It sounded like a joke.
“Are you serious!?” My disbelief was loud and clear.
“Yeah!”
I hadn’t taken a dare since senior year, one that nearly tanked my GPA. This had that same feel: small ask, big consequences. But after that kiss, and with the way her eyes made my pulse kick… Didn’t I want to know what this was? Who she was outside the job?
I studied her.
Saying yes to that meant coming out as a couple at that party. For any other guy it would be fine, but for me, a guy in the media, it could mean unleashing a whole new beast in the middle of the playoffs.
Chapter twelve
Mel
“That took you long enough,” I said to Sam, as she and Cassy returned from the park restrooms. My voice sounded steadier than I felt, which was impressive, considering my insides were doing the cha-cha.
“Uncle Sean! Sam is my friend,” Cassy declared proudly, clutching Sam’s hand. “She’s gonna give me a—a stethoscope to listen to Pitou’s belly.”
A tiny laugh slipped out even as my thoughts spiraled. I’d just asked the Tahoe West Panthers’ head coach to pretend to be mydate for one night. Not call a play, not fix a strategy, but to fake it withme.
Who was this Melanie Boyd, and where had she hidden the girl who used to say yes to uncomfortable shoes? Like that time Vince took me to a friend’s backyard party and introduced me as “the future Mrs. Silvio” before I’d even decided if I liked the shrimp skewers. I’d laughed, tucking away the small truth that I didn’t recognize the life he was selling. The girl who folded under the weight of everyone else’s expectations, mistaking doubt for weakness, would never have dared this.
“That’s the plan,” Sam said while eyeing Sean and me.
Sean’s phone buzzed. He checked it, typed something, then turned to Cassy. “Sweet, we need to get going. Looks like it’s a drive-thru for dinner.”
“I want fries and ketchup!” Cassy cheered.
