“Yep! He’s officially a Texas University Bulldog!” All the guys cheer. I knew he’d get in. There’s no way they’d turn this kid away. He’s had a lot of interest but staying here in Texas was his first choice. I’m not sure if Layla has anything to do with it, but I’m glad he’s going to be playing. If he keeps his head on straight, he’ll make it all the way. I’m sure of it.
Once we realized all the bad press came after speaking with or seeing Tony, Chess and I put two and two together. Then I dove deeper into my financial accounts and found Tony was not only stealing from my contracts, but he was siphoning a few percentages off the top of my payroll every month.
I couldn’t believe the guy I trusted since day one would screw me behind my back. Turns out, he had a heavy sports gambling debt, which of course violates the ethics code of being an agent. We went straight to the Ethics Committee, and he was fired.
We’ve filed a complaint to recoup some money but I’m not sure we’ll ever see it.
Since Tony was a disgraced agent, my contract with Goldman PR became null and void.
As did Nick and Ava. Once Nicholas Goldman, Sr. found out Nick was a less than upstanding citizen, causing undo drama and damage to their reputation, Nick was fired from his family company. I’m sure he’s not hurting for money, but he won’t be able to be an agent. Ava Belinsky pled her case and Goldman agreed to keep her on, if she started at the bottom and earned her way—not slept her way—back up.
Mr. Goldman reached out to Francesca, already knowing her answer would be no, she would not be returning, but it was the right thing to do. He gained respect from me for admitting the wrongdoing andwished her well in her future success as owner of Love Public Relations or LPR as we’ve dubbed it.
Her first client? Jameson Winters.
I smile, taking a beer that Billy is passing out to all of us and we cheers to, hopefully, bringing home the third State title tomorrow.
EPILOGUE Part 2
FARRAH
I glance at my kids on the playground while I tidy up the classroom. Spilled paint, sticky glue and crayons litter the floor. How do such little people create such big messes? I finish off the coffee Tommy brought me this morning and toss the cup in the trash.
I hear a light knocking on my door and I look up.
“Miss DeAngelo, I have someone I want you to meet. A new little person for your class,” Mrs. Martins, the Principal of Kandy Kane Kids, the daycare here in town tells me.
I smile, walking towards the door as a woman with auburn hair enters and a little boy hangs on her hip.
“Hi, welcome!” I begin to say, putting my hand out to shake hers, when I look into the woman’s face and come up short. “Chelsea?”
Her eyes grow wide, and the little boy snuggles in closer to her. “Hi Farrah,” she says quietly.
“Oh, how wonderful, you both know each other! Ok I’ll let you catch up and go over the classroom details. Miss Sutton when you’re ready, come back into the office, I have some forms for you to fill out.” She turns and leaves, closing the door slightly behind her.
I’m watching Chelsea, unsure what to say. It’s been almost two yearssince I’ve seen her. She left rather abruptly and from what I heard from Chess, she hasn’t given much of an explanation to Adam.
The little boy on her hip seems like it needs a huge explanation.
I rub the little boys back. “What’s your name, bud?” He turns to look at me, dirty blond hair with ice blue eyes and I gasp. I look back and forth between his face and Chelsea’s.
“Oh my god…” I say to myself. “Chelsea, does he know?”
“That obvious huh?” She half laughs to herself, in guilt? Shame? I’m not sure.
“Um, yea he’s the spitting image of him. What? How?” I swallow down a hard lump. “Where have you been?”
She moves the boy to her other hip and he hides his face in her neck again. “I went back to my sister’s house. I-I couldn’t tell him. I mean, I tried but…” She seems to grow agitated and then a hard look is plastered onto her face. “He was always too busy and the few nights I did try to tell him; something would come up. Somethingalwayscame up.”
I guide her to a small table, we barely fit in the chairs but I have her sit down and encourage the little boy to sit next to his mom. I pull over a cup of crayons and some paper for him to scrawl on.
“Listen, I don’t want to overstep here, and I don’t want to tell you what to do.”
“Then don’t,” she snaps. I furrow my brows.
“Chels—”
“No, Farrah. I just—I need to enroll Dominic here for now so I can get myself back on track. I’ll tell him, I will, I just need to do it on my own time.”
