12
CHAPTER TWELVE
LUKE
February
During dinner, Syndi and I have a chance to get to know each other a little better. Up to this point, she’s been a pain in my ass with all the photo shoots, interviews, and being the epitome of Miss Proper Etiquette. She’s still too prim and proper, but she’s finally allowing me to see a little more of her other side.
“I know I keep saying it, but I’m just completely shocked and in awe of you,” she gushes for the third time.
“It’s just what I do, and I’m not even in the same league as most of these guys. Seriously, I appreciate it, but until I can say I’ve won the championship belt, I’ll never think I’m as good as I can be,” I explain to her.
“Well, I’ll certainly do my part to help you get there. If that means more pictures, interviews, and magazine articles, then that’s what I’ll do,” she says with determination. “Speaking of, your photo shoot with the magazine next week will be great. I’ve seen the set they’re using, and it’ll be perfect.”
I grunt in disapproval, and she levels me with her business look. One eyebrow slowly quirks up, as if she’s daring me to challenge her expertise.
“Look, I appreciate everything you do. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative,” I start.
“But...” she says and waits for me to finish.
“But, it’s just a lot to take in. I’m not into interviews and pictures of me everywhere. I came here to learn from the best so I can make a career of this. It was naïve of me not to think about the PR part of the business, but I guess I just assumed someone else would take care of all that.”
“When you get to a certain point, that’ll be easier to manage. You have to give up your time and privacy to get to a point in your career where time and privacy are yours again.” She shrugs. “Until then, the adoring fans need to know everything there is to know about you.”
“Everything there is to know about me, huh?”
“Yes, and each demographic will want to know different things about you. The guys will want your fight record, your workout routine, and your chest and arm measurements. The women will want to know everything about your personal life—who you’re dating, what she does, if it’s a serious relationship, and if you’re getting married.”
The waitress shows up at that moment and takes our dinner order. While Syndi orders, I think about what she said. The different demographics of people, the information they’ll want to know about me, and how detailed some will want to get. Just like the pictures and news about Andi and Travis, my personal life is about to become public record to be dissected, poked around in, and put back together in whatever story sells best for the day.
“You know my relationship status,” I say nonchalantly. “You can field those questions.”
“Are you planning to marry Andi?” Syndi asks.
“Yes, we’re engaged now,” I say, leaning back against my chair.
“Your female fans will be disappointed. Even the illusion of being available can draw more fans for some men.”
“I don’t need to disillusion my fans, Syndi.”
“Okay, just a suggestion,” she replies, unfazed.
The predictable Syndi is emerging again. Just when I think she’s redeemable, she reverts back to the shady spin doctor, looking for a way to sensationalize the story and make it more interesting than it really is.
“I’m sure you have other suggestions.”
“Don’t think that Travis’s camp isn’t doing this same thing, Luke. Even though Andi isn’t the main act, tying her to Travis can increase the hype and increase album sales. The label is all about making their money back on their artists, and the boxing commission is no different. The more demand they create for you and Shane, the more they can drive ticket sales through the roof,” she says.
It makes sense, but I have to admit that I bristled at the thought of anything that involves Andi and Travis being together. As if on cue, the image changes on the TV over the bar, and I’m staring at Andi and Travis with their arms around each other’s waist. Inhaling deeply, I grit my teeth together tightly to keep from spewing expletives.
Sensing the change in me, Syndi turns and looks at the screen. When she turns back to me, understanding shows on her face and she reaches her hand across the table to squeeze mine.
“Luke,” she says reassuringly. “Remember what I told you. This is all for show. If you look at the sales of their EP, I’d bet my last dollar that they’re through the roof. There’s probably a spike every time the networks show their picture. They’re selling the illusion of happily ever after.”
I nod, not wanting to think about Andi having a happily ever after story that doesn’t involve me. Even if it isn’t real. “So, how will that—” I nod toward the continued coverage of Andi and Travis “—affect me and my image? If their PR is trying to sell a story that doesn’t exist, how will that look when I come on the scene and reveal that I’m engaged to her?”
“You’ll be the loving, trusting, supportive fiancé. Let Travis’s camp worry about how he’s seen.”
