Except now everyone knows.
My phone rings. Rick.
I answer, my voice coming out rougher than intended. “I saw it.”
“Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour.”
“I’m at a wedding. The phone was on Do Not Disturb, thank you.”
“Well, it’s a disaster. The article dropped three hours ago, and it’s everywhere. Sports media picked it up, social media is having a field day, the team management has called twice, asking for an explanation.” He’s talking fast, the way he does when he’s in crisis-management mode. “We need to get ahead of this.”
“Get ahead of it how? The contract is exposed. Jennifer has sources.”
“Sources that ‘suggest’ a contract. That’s vague. We can claim?—”
“We’re gonna come clean, Rick. Chloe and I, we don’t want to do this.”
The line goes quiet for a long time. “You can’t do that, Brody.”
Something in his voice makes my stomach drop. “Why not? It’s already out there. People already know.”
“People don’t know anything. So long as you make this convincing.” His voice is steady, solid, leaving no room to argue.
“Rick, I don’t?—”
“You both signed an NDA. And I got off the phone ten minutes ago with the NHL. They don’t want any part of this coming back to them. If you guys come clean, they won’t just null the contract—they’ll come after you both for breach of contract. We’re talking serious legal action against you both.”
My head is spinning, like I took a hard hit.
I drag a hand through my hair. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” He pauses. “Tonight at the reception, you need to convince people that your love is real—so real there’s no way this article can be true. And then you need to break up and make that look real too.”
The words hang in the air like smoke.
“I’m not breaking up with her.”
“You don’t have to. She’s supposed to break up with you. That’s what the clause says.”
From inside the ceremony area, I hear applause. The vows are done. Maya and Derek are married.
The end is near.
I hear Rick let out a sigh. “Do you love this woman?”
The question stops me cold. “Yes.”
“Then don’t kill your future. Or hers.” His voice softens. “I know this isn’t what you want. But sometimes, protecting someone means making the hard choice. Even if it breaks your heart. You need to fulfill the contract as specified. That means making sure this breakup is believable. Make everyone see that you love her—really love her—and then let her break your heart. That’s the only way you both come out of this intact.”
He hangs up.
Inside, music is starting play, and any moment, the newlyweds will come bursting through that door.
The choice is obvious. Terrible, but obvious.
I have to let her break up with me tonight.
Or more accurately—I have to make her break up with me.
