Alina’s comment snaps me back to the moment. “What?”
“You didn’t hear a word I said?”
“Sorry, I got distracted.”
“Her answer was pure Devlyn Frostburg,” Alina says.
I have no doubt.“Lay it on me.”
Barefoot, I pace the heated concrete floor, clenching my phone to my ear.
And she does.
“Working single mom?” I scoff. “What a load of crap. That’s an insult to all the single moms who are struggling to make ends meet. Forget about the fact her son is a professional athlete—earning several millions of dollars every year—he has a massive social media following he monetizes, and tons of brand sponsorship contracts. Devlyn is his manager, she also has a massive social media following she monetizes. The woman isn’t hard up for cash.”
“Well, that was her excuse for not being able to be an angel donor like you. She wasn’t in the position to be a freaking Mother Theresa—or whatever the stupid male equivalent was. Her words. Not mine.”
“Devlyn was supposed to keep her mouth shut about that. That was nobody’s business but mine.”
“She didn’t stop at that,” Alina says.
Of course not.
“She told the reporter she would’ve been able to donate part of her winnings had she not had to part with a large portion of the money to cover your legal fees because she lost the lawsuit against you?—”
“She’s the one who decided to contest the fact we won that money while we werestillmarried. It doesn’t matter if the marriage only lasted three months until I found another man balls deep inside her at my cottage. Half of those winnings were mine.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “The woman is exhausting.”
“As a publicist, there’s no greater threat than when one of your clients makes an inflammatory statement without you present, under the influence, no less. Here’s the kicker?—”
“She hired a private investigator to find out which charity I donated my money to?”
“No, nothing like that, “Alina says. “Devlyn ran her mouth outside of Eleven Madison Park.”
My brows knit together. “The three Michelin Star vegan restaurant?”
“Yes, the one that charges a cool three-hundred-and-thirty-five-dollars per person for their plant-based menu, where your charming ex-wife dropped an additional three hundred dollars on her bar tab,” Alina says. “Just Spotted crowned her the biggest hypocrite in New York City.”
“She deserves the title. I wish she would leave my name out of her tirades and rants. The ink is dry on our divorce papers. I’ve donated every penny of the money we won on the lottery. The prenup states I owe her zero in alimony if we’re married for less than a year. I’m not the father of her son, so I have no responsibilities towards him. What more does she want from me? Enough. Stop dragging my name in the mud.” I was marriedto that woman for only three months, but she’s determined to be the thorn in my side for the rest of my natural life.
Alina clears her throat. “Have you given any thoughts to what we discussed the last time Devlyn’s actions and words landed you in the gossip pages?”
This again. “You want me to enter into a fake relationship with a model or an actress to show people I’m not a cyborg without a pulse? I’m not a Hollywood celebrity, Alina.”
“I didn’t say that. And these types of arrangements aren’t only for celebrities.”
I shake my head.
“Throughout the divorce proceedings, you never made a statement. After the judge ruled in your favor about the lottery money, and the press was hounding you, you didn’t make a statement. Every time reporters corner you in the streets for a statement, you bulldozer right through them like a bowling ball slams through pins. Then, there’s your grandmother…”
My heart breaks at the mention of the woman who was a mother to me.
“Kaz, you donate so much money to worthy causes. On top of that, your annual hockey charity brings in several millions of dollars. Those amazing accomplishments are dwarfed by all this drama.” She pauses. “There are two images of you out there––the unstoppable former captain of The New York Blazers and the legendary Roy Kent of hockey who got caught up in one of the worst divorces in recent memory––”
“It doesn’t matter what people think of me. I managed not to lose myself after stepping off the ice, my businesses do well, I treat my employees with respect and dignity, and my annual charity event always surpasses my expectations.”
“My fear is that because of the circus Devlyn orchestrated––and keeps fanning––she’ll come across as the victim duringyour divorce and will take away from the publicity around your upcoming charity event.”
“My days of being a public figure are behind me. I don’t have to placate the press anymore. Even at the peak of my career, I hated talking to them.”
