Chapter 18 – Sudden Death
Game Over?
The Week After Christmas
Jaxson
The plane touches down with a hard jolt at Thunder Bay airport. I've played plenty of home games, but it's been months since I actually set foot in my own house. I've been too busy living in hotels and discreetly partying. Now I have to face Melly, and my stomach twists like it's trying to crawl up my throat.
My immediate plans after the cancellation of the charity game were to catch a plane and fly straight home to Melly, but that didn't quite work out. The blizzard hit the mountains above Thunder Bay and stalled there. It's rumored that the accumulations are record-breaking and that the roads there are still impassable.
Here in the city, the worst of the storm is over, and it wasn't as bad as expected. It stranded travelers for a couple of days, shutting down the airport, and most flights have just been cleared to land. Snow still blankets the ground, with deep drifts lining the roadways. I pick up my bag and move through the bustling terminal.
My PR team had also called an emergency meeting for the day after Christmas, so I spent the rest of the time there trying to explain everything to my parents, arranging transport home, and attempting to reach my wife without success.
The holiday charity game had been at the Oasis Arena, just outside Palm Springs in Thousand Palms, where my parents had retired. Normally, Melly and I would spend Christmas with them, but her dad had sent me an odd text saying she was spending the holiday with him and that I wasn't invited. So, without thinking, I made the foolish decision to let Mandy come with me, giving in to my baser needs. I'd practically deserted Melly and hadn't even tried to work things out with her. We could do that at the end of the season anyway, like we'd agreed, right?
But since I couldn't bring Mandy to my parents' place, I had booked a room at the Solara Grand Hotel.
Even though Mandy had been a bit clingy, she'd never demanded more than I was willing to give. I liked having sex with her, even if I had to be trashed when we were together. Our situationship had always been purely physical.
I had to admit the truth to myself. I craved being with Mandy, appreciated the distraction, the escape, even though I knew I shouldn't. I hated that I felt this way, yet I kept going back, telling myself it was harmless, that Mandy meant nothing, and that I could walk away whenever I wanted.
Then I'd feel guilty, driven to end it with Mandy and make things right with my wife. I kept getting tangled up, and the more I went back to Mandy, the more confused I became. I was caught between what I wanted and what I knew I should do, between fantasy and reality. Between lust and love.
Mandy's personality changed when I invited her to Palm Springs, where my parents live, for Christmas. She must've misread my intentions, even though I'd always been upfront with her and made it clear it was temporary. I'd never introduced her to my parents and neverintended to. Melly's always been my future, not some chick I'd hooked up with.
By the time we arrived last week, Mandy had turned into a level ten clinger. Yeah, I know the scale only goes to five. She wanted more than I would ever be willing to give her. That's when it finally stopped feeling easy with her. I wasn't thrilled, but I still didn't walk away. I kept stalling, hoping things would just sort themselves out. I knew I was playing with fire and didn't know how to put it out. Eventually, it blew up. She turned it into a full-blown dumpster fire, leaving me standing in the ashes, forced to face the fallout.
It turned out Mandy had engineered us getting together from the start. She'd set her sights on me and kept at it until I finally gave in. On top of that, she had a friend who was a freelance paparazzi, whom she'd hired not only to capture the first photo of us that caused so much trouble, but also to film the balcony scene. The whole stunt had been planned, and I'd just played into their hands by going out there in nothing but my bathrobe. When I'd ended things that morning, tossing her out and banning her from my room, she'd exposed everything on the PuckCam after her pap friend sold the video.
That had led me to the PR meeting I was required to attend in the Solara Grand Hotel conference room the morning after that fateful charity game.
The Solara Grand Hotel is stunning, with all-glass walls, steel and metal beams, and exposed brick patches. It's a nod to the modern industrial vibe that screams luxury and taste. The kind of place where corporate deals happen over lunch, following a morning of golf. Outside the windows, the California sun glints off the lavish pool, blindingly bright. But inside the conference room, the atmosphere had been tense, and I could tell it wasn't going to end well.
[Flashback]
They're already seated when I walk in, waiting for me. The atmosphere is thick with tension. My image and reputation are in ruins right now. I know this isn't going to be good.
Coach Brett Nelson sits at the far end of the table, sleeves rolled up. My agent, Gerald Parker, leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Larry Kissington, the league lawyer, sits next to him, laptop open with a legal pad beside him. Charlotte Friar, the league's top PR strategist, stands by the window, arms crossed, eyes on the scenery outside.
“Sit down, Jaxson,” Coach Nelson says with a heavy sigh.
I pull out the chair across from them, and the scrape on the wood floor sounds louder than it should in the quiet room.
“Where do we start?” Charlotte mumbles, approaching the table and picking up the legal pad beside Larry. “We know how the footage came to be. Amanda Peterson and Theresa Green tipped off your favorite paparazzi, Tony Slater. He's a personal friend of Ms. Peterson.”
I roll my eyes. Figures. Tony has been the bane of my existence since I became famous. He's relentless, always digging for a story. Until now, I've been squeaky clean, with nothing to report. That never stopped him, and his persistence has finally paid off because he's got me, dead to rights.
“Ms. Peterson and Ms. Green, along with Mr. Slater, colluded to get the footage, and it was sold to anyone who would buy it. That led to it being picked up and aired on the major network, Center Stage Live,” Charlotte continues. “The women signed off on the use of the video, and since you're famous and it was taken in public, they didn't need your permission.”
“Basically, kid, your girlfriend set you up,” Coach Nelson growls, shaking his head. "Same old story. When will these wet-behind-the-ears kids learn?"
“When Mr. Slater was threatened with a lawsuit, he was most forthcoming and threw Ms. Peterson and Ms. Green under the bus,” Charlotte adds. “Once the ladies set everything in motion, they persuaded the PuckCam operators to upload the live news report. But by that time, every news outlet had already been streaming it all morning.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. I'm genuinely stunned by everything that has happened in the past twenty-four hours.
“Their goal, aside from the money, was to provoke a public breakup by humiliating your wife,” Charlotte states. “Jaxson, we warned you. I saw this coming because jealous women play dirty.”
