Mel gives me an excited look. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good,” he says. “Let’s make sure to catch a minute after the game.”
“Of course,” she says.
“Give ‘em hell tonight,” I add.
She puts the phone down and lets out awoot!“We’re going to sign a baseball star,” she sings.
“You don’t know that’s what this means,” I argue, but I’m smiling, too. Why the hell else would he take the time on game day to call us personally and confirm our attendance?
“Yes I do,” Mel says and dances over to me. “We’re going to sign a baseball star,” she sings again.
I grunt. “Maybe.”
She stops. “Great timing with your lover, by the way. Maybe we’ll luck out and the ink on the contract will dry before your reputation gets dragged through the mud.”
My nostrils flare.
Despite all logic, the part of me that wants Orlando as my own is still there, powerful and demanding. Thrashing against reason.
Mel checks her phone. “Speaking of. Prince Charming should be here shortly.”
We relocate downstairs. There’s a flurry of business for us each to address, junior agents descending on us with questions. We somehow make it to Mel’s office, and when Orlando arrives, he’s shuffled right in.
I tense the second he’s in the room. He’s in a suit, and he gives us each a chagrined smile.
He’s recovering nicely from his injury, but now he looks tired, upset in a way I haven’t seen before. It’s worry about the negative press, I’m sure. I scold myself that even if he didn’t know better, I should have had the common sense to keep us out of this mess.
It feels strange not to touch him, but fear and guilt hold me back.
The three of us settle around the large coffee table, Mel on a leather couch and Orlando and I each in a matching chair.
“Are there any updates?” Orlando asks immediately.
“Nothing,” Mel answers. “And we’re running standard interference. Squash rumors, monitor social media for emerging problems, buy off anyone we can. But that might only delay the inevitable.”
“Luckily, your team trusts me,” I add. “I made a call and told them it’s fine because I know we’re going to handle it.”
Orlando holds my eye. It seems like he’s searching, and when it stirs the emotions I’m fighting to keep down, I tear my gaze back to Mel.
“And Mel’s contacts in the media are strong,” I add.
“Just tell me what I need to do,” Orlando says. “I’m about to start training with my team again. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep this away from the field.”
“You have a story to tell right now,” Mel answers. “It’s about a swift recovery and a championship game. Land that and no one will talk about the other crap.”
Orlando turns to me again, and I grunt.
“Treat it like noise,” I tell him. “Meaningless.”
We go over some details about his return to the team, and the meeting ends. Mel gestures to the door, but Orlando hesitates.
He glances between us. “Could Troy and I have a minute to talk?” he asks. “Alone?”
Even that feels like a risk, but I realize I’m being paranoid.
“I’ll be back in five,” Mel says. “You can have the office until then.”
