Or, the other way this could go was that she could feel like he was trying to pressure her and it was creepy. He’d gotten her phone number from his sister, which she may not appreciate. It was so difficult to tell with Tiana. Most women threw themselves at him. So to have someone who wouldn’t even commit topretendingto like him was putting him in very unfamiliar waters, ones he couldn’t quite navigate.
His phone dinged less than a minute after he sent the message. When he looked down, he wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but what he saw surprised him. One single word.
Tiana:Okay
Holy shit. It worked. Niko wasn’t sure why he felt like he’d just hit a three-run walk-off, but he did. It’s not like Tianawas actually his girlfriend. She’d agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend, but from the little bit of recon he’d done at the wedding, he figured that was as good as it was going to get. From all accounts, she had a no-dating policy.
It made Niko wonder just what that shithead had done to her. She’d wanted to warn Gianna about him, and even though she’d insisted he wasn’t physical with her, clearly something had gone on.
Niko pulled out his laptop and went to YouTube. He started by searching ‘Brock Bartlett red carpet interview,’ expecting maybe thirty seconds of narcissistic flexing and the usual post-game idiocy. Instead, he found an entire digital graveyard of Brock’s life, catalogued in high-def and timestamped with each year of his relationship with Tiana.
The first video was from the ESPYs, year one. The first time he’d seen her. Brock’s hair was shellacked in a way that only a professional athlete could get away with. Tiana stood beside him in her red dress, smiling so hard her eyes crinkled at the corners, her body language so open and trusting that Niko almost felt like an intruder. She laughed at Brock’s corny jokes, touched his arm, and leaned into his side like he was her entire universe. In the middle of the interview, Brock pulled her into the frame and introduced her as “the real MVP.” Tiana blushed, ducked her head, and then turned back to the camera, her confidence dazzling. Niko could read her like a scoreboard, this was a woman who never doubted her place. Not for a second. Not then.
He clicked to the next year. By now, Tiana was a regular on the circuit, her wardrobe elevated and her presence sharper and more assured. She still smiled, but it was a shade less spontaneous, her gaze flickering to Brock before answering questions, like she was waiting for a cue. Brock was louder, and his humility thinned. He called Tiana his “better three-quarters,” and Niko swore he saw her laugh a beat too late. Therewas a party after this interview, one Niko remembered hearing about from the league gossip pipeline. Someone had said Brock drank too much and made an ass of himself. He wondered how Tiana had felt about that. Niko watched the video again, fixating on the two-second interval where Tiana’s eyes flickered to Brock and her lips flattened as he cut her off mid-sentence.
By year four, Brock had a different tailored suit and the same smug confidence. Tiana was beside him on the red carpet at a charity golf tournament. She wore a white dress and smiled politely, but now she stood with her purse in front of her body, like a shield. Niko paid attention to the way the light had completely left her eyes, her laughter polite and distant, and the space between herself and Brock was just wide enough to be noticed if you were looking for it. The interviewer asked about their upcoming wedding anniversary, and Brock made a stupid joke about how he was celebrating by getting a tattoo of a ball and chain, because that’s what he thought of when he thought of marriage. Tiana’s smile was fixed, her eyes glassy.
The next video was a year later, the local news spot before the playoffs, with Brock’s team favored to go all the way. This time, Tiana didn’t appear until midway through the clip, summoned only so the reporter could get a “wife’s perspective.” She was noticeably thinner, her clothes expensive but hanging off her frame, and her beautiful curly hair was pulled up off her face in a ponytail. She did her best to joke along with Brock, but her voice was quieter, her hands twisting together in her lap. When the segment ended, Brock patted her on the knee and stood first, leaving her to gaze after him before catching herself and looking away. Niko felt a strange pressure in his chest, equal parts disgust and pity.
Year six was a black-tie gala in LA. Brock posed for photos with Tiana, he held her arm and then placed his hand on the small of her back instead, controlling, not affectionate. Theinterviews were shorter now, and Tiana’s personality seemed to have been bleached out of her. She answered questions with generic responses, always turning the spotlight back to Brock, never drawing any of it for herself. Niko watched her eyes dart around for someone—anyone—to rescue her from the conversation. Even her laugh had changed, pitch-perfect but hollow.
The last year of their marriage, the only interview Niko found was a two-minute segment on a daytime talk show. Tiana sat stiffly beside Brock, hands folded in her lap. Her hair was in a bun on top of her head, her skin was pale, and she had dark circles beneath her eyes. The host started to ask about family plans, but Brock cut her off, saying, “No kids for us. We’ve got a dog, and that’s plenty for her to handle.” Tiana’s mouth twitched. She looked at the host, then at the camera, and for a moment her eyes were completely flat and dead. Not angry, not sad, just resigned. Brock kept talking, but Niko didn’t hear any of it. He was too busy staring at Tiana, trying to understand how someone could lose their light so completely and how nobody had noticed until it was too late.
Niko let the autoplay scroll through a half-dozen more videos. Tiana, vibrant and alive, was then slowly hollowed out by proximity to a man who saw women as accessories, not partners. He wondered if it had happened gradually, or if there was a single day where she realized she had to leave or lose herself forever. He found himself hating Brock more than he had for anything that had happened back in their college days.
After seeing those videos, he was even happier about their arrangement. As his fake girlfriend, Niko could take care of her, he could make sure that asshole didn’t get anywhere near her. And that’s exactly what he planned on doing.
8
Tiana blew on her hands,warming them up as she walked up the path to Golden Years. She got a call that morning that Pops’ fever broke, and he was feeling up to visitors, so she was going to see him and let him know that not only was Brock in town, but his family was as well. She wasn’t sure how he was going to take the news. That wasn’t entirely true. She was absolutely sure how he was going to take the news, poorly. But he needed to know, and she wanted him to hear it from her.
The doors swooshed open, and Cindy greeted her with a wide smile. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Victoria.”
Tiana glanced behind her, sure she must be addressing someone else.
“Oh no, Miss Lady, I am speaking to you.” Cindy smiled widely as she pointed her French-tipped acrylic nail in her direction.
“Me?” Tiana tapped her chest with her right hand. “Victoria?”
“Well, yes, because it seems you have nothing but secrets. Your ex is in town, you say nothing, and you are in a relationshipwithNiko Costas? What happened to not dating athletes?” Cindy’s perfectly manicured brow arched.
“Oh, it’s not…I mean…we’re not…it’s not…”
Cindy lifted her hands in the air in mock surrender as she continued smiling and shaking her head back and forth. “You don’t owe me oranyoneany explanation. I love that you kept something to yourself in this town where privacy is a foreign concept, I’m actually impressed.”
“No, but it’s?—”
Before she was able to explain herself, not that she had a clue what she would say, the phone rang and Cindy answered, “Golden Years, this is Cind?—”
Her face lit up, and Tiana knew who was on the other end of the line. Cindy’s face only ever brightened like that for Davis.
Tiana signed in and headed back down the hallway. Residents were playing cards in the common room. There were several men playing croquet on the green. Gus and Bruce both waved at her as she passed. Normally, Pops and Arthur would be with the duo, they played doubles golf together.
Arthur was moving to the cottage next door now that he was married, and she hoped that he would still be around. Because no matter what, she would find a way to keep Pops at Golden Years. Even if she had to dip into the money she’d told herself she’d never use. It was the last resort, but sometimes that was the resort you ended up at.
When she rounded the corner to Pops’ room, he was lying on the bed and his eyes were closed. She paused and started to turn, when she heard Pops say, “Where do you think you’re goin’, Tiny?”
“I was just going to wait in the community room for you to finish your nap.” Tiana entered the room, crossed to Pops’ bedside, bent down, and kissed him on his cheek.
