Meanwhile, I sit here wondering what their problem is. I've got this under control. Melly loves me, and I love her. I can't stress that enough. She's been mine since high school, my sweetheart, my soulmate. That's never going to change.
I don't care what the gossip rags say. Melly isn't a naïve little girl. She knows exactly what I want and what's going on. She won't let any of this affect us. Sure, I need to be more discreet to avoid embarrassing her, but she'll never leave me. She never wanted this open marriage, and she's probably at home right now, not out with other guys. She's too devoted to me.
I realize I've neglected her a bit, but we text every day. I glance at my cell. Well… I have the automatic texting, but she replies. She knows how busy I am. I start to wonder how she might feel about that newspaper article, but I push the thought away. She doesn't read those tabloids. If she did, she'd brush it off, knowing we have our arrangement.
I snap out of my thoughts, shaking my head to clear it and focus. Every pair of eyes in the room is locked on me, tense and accusing. No one moves or speaks for a beat, then the room erupts.
“Jaxson!” It appears Charlotte isn't done with me yet, so I shift my attention to her. Eyes wide, mouth agape, she shakes her head in disbelief. “Of all the idiotic things… forcing your wife into an open marriage by threatening divorce is the height of stupidity!” she spits. “Do you seriously think that's going to work?”
“It did, didn't it?” I grin.
“Have you ever heard the expression,Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?”
“No?”
“You've made a mess of everything. This could cost you your marriage.”
“No, it won't,” I scoff. “My marriage is fine.”
Suddenly, Coach jolts out of his stupor. He jumps to his feet, barking orders.
“Libby,” he shouts at his assistant, nearly frantic, “get in touch with Jaxson's wife. Now.”
Libby rushes into the room, fumbling with her phone. “What should I say to her?”
“Just check in. Feel her out. See how she's doing!”
“O—okay,” she stammers, already dialing.
“Send her flowers!” he calls out. “A big bouquet from us and another from Jaxson.”
“Flowers… right,” she repeats, jotting notes on her pad with the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder.
“And chocolates,” he insists. “And whatever else you can think of that might help Jaxson smooth things over with her.”
I watch, still puzzled by all the fuss. They're clearly overthinking things.
All this time, Larry has been typing furiously on his laptop. “I'll start checking into moving Jaxson's endorsements to Cranson. He's a family man, and his wife just had a baby. That'll work.” A relieved smile crosses his face. “We might be able to salvage this if we act quickly, but negotiating with another player could take months, and we don't have that kind of time.” He pauses, wiping sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief.
“Listen, guys, it's okay. Melly is okay. Our marriage is stable. There's no need to pull my endorsements. I'll be more discreet.” I throw up myhands, hoping to calm them down. I don't want to lose my contracts.
Charlotte's anger is on the verge of boiling over, but she needs to chill. She doesn't get it. I know I'm right. I know my wife and what she needs.
Libby interrupts. “Mrs. Kingston isn't answering her phone, and the mailbox is full.”
Then, without warning, Gerald crumples to the floor. One minute, he's standing there, nearly foaming at the mouth, his face that deep shade of purple. Next, he's out cold, convulsing on the beige carpet. Every person in the room freezes, stunned.
Libby, in the middle of ordering flowers, drops her phone. I watch, still in shock, as Coach yells at her to call an ambulance.
Note to self: My PR team is more fragile than my marriage. Next time we talk, I'll remind Gerald to stay seated, or I'll bring smelling salts.
