Page 3 of #Awestruck
But beggars couldn’t be choosers. “I promise. Whatever you ask me to do to help out with your high school reunion, I will do it.”
“Without question.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, without question, oh mighty master.”
“Excellent. You’ll be hearing from me soon.” We hung up, and I had a serious moment of dread as I tried to imagine what sort of demented Aubrey-dictated nightscape I’d just agreed to.
I began typing up a generic outline and waited at my cubicle for my chance to pitch Brenda.
A head popped up above my shared wall, surprising me. It was my work husband, Rand. Which I’d thought was a stupid name until I found out his actual name was Randolph, and at that point, I no longer blamed him for shortening it.
“What are you going to say?” he asked. Rand was cute, in a metro-lumberjack kind of way. Thick beard, light-brown hair, brown eyes, lots of ironic flannel.
“As if I’d tell you,” I scoffed. We’d been flirting for a few months, but I knew nothing would ever come of it. Because I suspected that he would have slit my throat and walked over my bleeding-out corpse to get ahead at this network. So would every other intern on the floor, so I couldn’t blame him for that, either. “But I am going to win the assignment, just so you know not to waste your time.”
His eyes narrowed at me in wry amusement. “What? You think because you’re young and hot you’ll get chosen? Brenda doesn’t swing that way.”
Thanks to my ridiculously fair skin, I could feel the blush starting at my throat and working its way up to my cheeks. I didn’t really think of myself as hot. I wasn’t a troll or anything—I was tall and had red hair, hazel eyes, and a decent figure, given how often I worked out or played sports. I’d even had a couple of semiserious boyfriends in college. But thanks to Evan and his buddies, in the deepest, most private part of me, I couldn’t see myself as anything other than some ugly, pathetic wannabe.
“It’s because I’m better at my job than you,” I finally managed when the blush died down. Sometimes it felt like Rand flirted with me just because he enjoyed making me flush fifty different shades of red.
“We’ll see,” he said with a wink, going off to pitch his take on Evan’s story.
I waited about half an hour longer, drumming my fingers on my desk. The line outside of Brenda’s office had cleared, and I made my way over to her door.
Which was open, so it wasn’t my fault for eavesdropping. Although it wasn’t really eavesdropping; it was just standing somewhere that the two women inside couldn’t see me and holding really still while listening intently.
“Maybe we can take a different tactic with this story. Honestly, it isn’t that big of a deal if Dawson is a virgin. Lots of people hold off. I mean, there are so many famous celebrities who are waiting or did wait until marriage. Like Lolo Jones, Adriana Lima, Maisy Harrison of Yesterday, or Zoe Covington, Chase’s wife. All that aside, just in the NFL alone you have Tim Tebow, Russell Wilson, Philip Rivers, Manti Te’o, Prince Amukamara—”
Brenda held up her hand, cutting Talia off. She’d done the opposite of what Brenda had asked for. Brenda hadn’t come to praise Evan Dawson but to bury him.
“That isn’t quite what I wanted, but I suppose I can consider it.” My boss’s tone indicated that no consideration whatsoever would be taking place. “Next!”
I avoided making eye contact with Talia as she left the office, not wanting her to see how sorry I felt for her. I went in and sat down in the chair next to Brenda’s desk. She was typing something on her computer and staring at her screen.
Brenda was intimidating not only because of her attitude, her confidence, and the power she held over all of our lives but also because I’d never seen her as anything less than immaculate. Like today—her pale-blonde hair was done up in a tight French twist, her business suit looked custom, and she wore high heels that made me think of stilts. I was always impressed with her ability to balance on her impossibly high shoes. I wondered if she did yoga.
“Wow me, Ashton.”
Her command stopped my bizarre brain tangent. “While I don’t know for sure one way or the other if Evan Dawson is still a virgin, what I can tell you is that he used to be quite the rebel back in high school.”
That made her look away from the computer. “How do you know that?”
“Because I went to high school with him. I know him.” Knew him, to be more accurate. I hadn’t spoken to him in ten years. “He got busted for drinking, partying, shoplifting. If I remember right, he was even part of a group of kids who stole a police car and went for a joyride.”
I had her complete and total attention. “How come I’ve never heard any of this?”
Because my father was an entertainment and sports attorney who the head football coach had retained to keep Evan out of trouble and to keep his records sealed.“Juvenile offenses. But I remember it. So I know that he’s not what he seems. That there’s more going on with this story than what he tells the world.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Very interesting. Almost impressive.”
I had managed to almost impress her! Part of me wanted to keep the streak going and tell her I was the one who had given him the nickname “Awesome” during my freshman year of high school, but people never believed me. They always assumed it was something that had started when he went off to college. I decided to leave that fact out, as it might have made me seem a little desperate.
Which I totally was. “And because I grew up with him, I can get access to him now.” Whether or not that was true didn’t matter, only that I was promising Brenda something no one else would even consider.
Because Evan was notorious for being tight-lipped with the press. He did his NFL-mandated interviews but gave away very little, keeping to one- or two-word answers. He didn’t go on sports shows and generally stayed quiet at press conferences. “I can talk to the people around him, too. Find out the real scoop. Maybe even find some women who will come on the show and say they’ve hooked up with him. And I’m helping my older sister with her ten-year reunion, which is also Evan Dawson’s ten-year reunion. Lots of potential people to interview there, too.”
She nodded, considering my pitch. I needed to seal the deal. “He broke my heart. Publicly humiliated me at school. I’ve been waiting ten years to pay him back. If anyone wants to see Evan Dawson brought down a peg or two, it’s me.”
