Page 97 of Off the Wall
If we’d been pressed together, or grasping at each other, or even flat-out kissing, the moment couldn’t look more romantic.With the string lights in the tree above us and the music in the air and the flowers and the ribbons everywhere else, the effect is … magical. And yeah, I’m aware this sounds corny, but that doesn’t make the words untrue.
“This is bad, isn’t it?” Nori’s face is pale.
“It’s not good.” I flinch. “But there’s nothing in that video that says we’re on a date.”
“Have you read the comments?” she moans. “That’s exactly what people are thinking.”
I can’t argue with her. The moment between us looks way too intimate to be brushed off. In fact, everyone’s interpreting this asmorethan a date.
“Maybe you should try calling that Swipe Rite lady,” I offer. “If you two can get ahead of this, there might be some way to spin the?—”
“Jemma!” Nori shoves my phone at me and leaps to her feet. “I’m sure she’s seen the video by now.”
She starts across the courtyard, and I follow her closely, trying not to trip on the hem of the blanket. “Where are you going?”
“My phone’s charging upstairs,” she gasps, as we race across the lobby. “I’ll bet Jemma’s called me already.” When we reach the staircase, Nori throws the blanket over one shoulder and grabs the railing to speed up the steps. “The team is going to say I broke the contract,” she says, breathless. “Then they’ll ask for the money back.”
“You don’t know that.”
She tosses me a dark glance as we reach the second floor. “I know Jemma’s not going to be happy.”
“You’re right.” I grunt. “And I’m really sorry.”
“I’m the one who made you dance with me,” she pants, taking the rest of the steps two at a time. “But I had no idea some random wedding guest would blow everything up with one dumb video.”
When we reach her apartment, she bursts inside, and I come in after her. Nori heads straight for her bedroom, and I barely have time to look around before she returns with her phone. Her place is bright and light and … happy.
Nori, however, is not.
“Jemma called three times,” she blurts, checking her notifications.
“Slow down,” I say. “Take a deep breath. You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.”
“Maybe not.” Nori flops onto the couch, phone in her lap. “But Jemma’s going to think I broke my word.”
I take a seat on the edge of her coffee table right in front of her. Ducking my head, I meet her gaze. “Butyouknow you didn’t,” I insist. “What other people think isn’t important.”
Even as the words come out, my gut constricts. That’s some blue-ribbon level hypocrisy right there, considering the percentage of my life I’ve spent worrying about public perception.
My entire baseball career revolved around my reputation. And statistics. And projections. People taking bets and making assumptions.
After my injury, right or wrong, I hated that people saw me as the broken guy. There was no escaping that truth, though. Even my fiancée didn’t want me anymore. So the past four years have been all about me changing that impression on the outside. I wanted to repair the opinions of strangers. But maybe what I really need to fix is how I view myself.
“Jemma left a message.” Nori sucks in a breath. “I’m scared to listen.”
I move onto the couch beside her. “Whatever she says, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks.” Nori hits play, then switches to speaker mode so I can hear the voicemail.
“I have no idea what you were thinking, Nori.” Jemma’svoice is sharp as a thumbtack. “Dancing at a wedding with a man who isn’t from Swipe Rite.” She makes atsk-ing noise. “Do you even know who that man is? He’s not just anyone. He’s a professional baseball player. Well, hewas, anyway. And apparently people have recognized him. He used to be a big deal with the Black-Caps.”
Used to be. My gut twists.
“I’m sure you can imagine this puts a crimp in our campaign,” Jemma continues. “You put yourself in a compromising position with someone who’s known by the public, so we can’t very well expect the video to be brushed under the rug. I’m afraid our legal team is viewing this as a breach of contract. They could recommend canceling your second payment and requiring the initial installment to be paid back.”
Nori lets out a little yelp, and I put a hand on her knee.
“I tried defending you,” Jemma goes on. “But so far I’ve been unsuccessful. Call me. Immediately.”
