“It doesn’t matter how long ago they were taken. Haven’t you ever heard footprints on the internet are forever? Even more so with celebrities. And it certainly doesn’t look as if you were bothered by their presence since you have your tongue stuck down each woman’s throat more than once!”
Ansley was completely exasperated, huffing so hard she blew a strand of hair down from her tight little bun. “Okay. I’m sorry. I stopped posting because my old coach said I was doing myself a disservice.”
“They should have advised you to remove the photos altogether.”
“Don’t be so hard on him, Ansley. Or on the Philly coach. Just explain the rules and he promises to do much better. Don’t you?” Bobby’s eyebrows were knitted together out of frustration.
“Of course. Absolutely.”
A sudden quiet in the room formed and I didn’t like it one bit. Not one.
“While I don’t agree, from what I’ve been told, you’re a star. Or at least you might become one. You don’t do that kind of shit. Everything is a photo op and trust me when I say that every time you’re out in the public, you need to be thinking about being the star. Now, look at these. When were these photos taken?”
“What’s wrong with them? They’re of the stands and the teams and the first play. And what do you mean you don’t agree?’
“That’s the issue,” Bobby tossed out, tossing Ansley a look that told her to be careful. “There’s a blackout policy the day of games. No social media. Maybe that’s not a typical rule in the lower leagues.”
I glanced at Bobby who was thoroughly amused by what was going on. “Guess not,” I quipped, barely avoiding my increasing rage. “Whatever you say. No more game pictures.”
She was flipping through photos on the screen so fast I couldn’t make them out.
“Your Instagram is not much better. You need to be posting pictures with fans and of every city you go to. Every game.”
“I’ll do what I can with what time I have.”
“This is part of your job. So let’s take a look at some of the other items you’ve been posting for the last six months.” As soon as she started flicking through the photographs, I slouched down in the seat again.
She was growing angrier by the minute, especially when seeing the naked girls in the vats of Jell-O. “I can explain.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t want to know. What I need for you to tell me is that you’re never going to do anything of that nature again. Jell-O. Mud. Quicksand. I don’t care. And you aren’t. Right?”
I glanced at Bobby who was giving me a very stern look. “Okay.”
“If you don’t comply then I’ll be forced to take over your accounts and you won’t like it when I do. Get it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I could clearly tell she didn’t like to be called ma’am.
I had to wonder if her bite was as bad as her glare. Maybe so.
“Have you not been told that people are out to get you?”
I almost choked on the coffee as I took a sip, managing to burn the hell out of my hand as I did. “What? Out to get me the hockey player or me the shifter?”
“Both.”
“What now?”
She threw Bobby a look that told me the two of them had been already discussed whatever issue they’d been faced with.
Her sigh was heavy and long. “What were you doing last night?”
“I do get to have a personal life. Right?”
“You do,” she said. “As long as you don’t break a man’s hand while enjoying your down time.”
“Oh, shit.” How much lower in the seat could I go?
“Oh, shit is right,” Bobby intervened. “Look, I know it must be difficult with you being a shifter. I also have a feeling being in your brother’s shadow isn’t necessarily in your best interest either, but you saw how the press crucified him for his behavior. He barely made it out unscathed. I think you’re well aware there’s a double standard, which means you need to be above the law and the basics of humanity. And I certainly don’t want you to be hounded by the press simply because you’re different.”
