“Yeah, about that….”
He sighed. “How bad is it?”
“Well,” I started and winced.
Rusty’s arms around me were comforting, and I didn’t want to leave them, but I hated having to rehash this in front of him. I didn’t want to hurt him any more than I already had by making him listen.
“It’s not disastrous?” At least I didn’t think it was. “Carina is my mother’s best friend.”
Michael was deathly silent. I couldn’t even hear his breathing. Either he’d muted me and was swearing his head off, or he was holding his breath waiting for the full story.
“She lives in Australia, but I’ve known her forever. She, ah, just got a divorce a few weeks ago and was visiting with Mom and Dad. They had to make an urgent trip home to see my grandfather. When I heard she was going to miss out on going to Vegas, Travis and I offered to go with her.”
“Right,” he said slowly. “And?”
“And we got drunk and got married.”
“Was the threesome behind closed doors?” he asked without hesitation.
I choked out a shocked laugh. But it shouldn’t have surprised me. He’d been an agent for a hell of a long time, and he’d seen it all.
“Yes,” I assured him. “In the hotel room. We were at a club before the chapel, dancing together. Carina and I made out there, I think. Carina might have kissed Travis there, too, or it might have been in the cab. Last night’s a little hazy.”
He groaned. I could hear shuffling on his end. I wasn’t sure whether he was moving papers around or scrubbing his hands over his face. “You were in Australia a few months ago. Did you see her? Is there any possibility that her marriage breakdown could be linked to you?”
“They’d been separated for a few weeks when I arrived. She came to our Brisbane game, then we went out for a drink. But nothing happened. I swear.”
I looked at Rusty and silently begged him to believe me. I would have told them if we’d hooked up. Both he and Travis knew I’d been out for drinks with Carina, but I’d only kissed her on the cheek when we’d said goodnight. Nothing more.
Rusty tilted his lips up in a small smile and brushed his thumb over my cheek. He believed me. The weight I’d been carrying lifted. I could breathe again.
I could hear the scratch of a pen on paper for a moment, and then Michael answered absently, “Nothing happening is largely irrelevant. If photos exist, it will look like you got together then. But as long as they were already separated, that’s okay. I can work with that.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked, half wanting to know and half wanting to bury my head in the sand.
“We need to do some damage control, Jacques. There are consequences for drunken nights in Vegas,” he schooled.
“Yeah,” I answered tightly, then nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “What do I need to do?”
“The team already has their hands full dealing with Chris Minns’s marriage issues because of the cheating scandal with Alec Huxley—”
Instinctively, I leaped to my teammates’ defense. The whole mess had happened because the fucking media had drawn conclusions that were completely wrong. Minns didn’t want to be outed, so he’d let the rumors swirl. Hux had promised him discretion, and he was too decent a man to go back on his word to defend himself.
“There’s more to that story—”
“I don’t care,” Michael snapped. “My concern is you, not Huxley and Minns.” He exhaled harshly and paused. When he spoke again, he’d softened his voice. “The team won’t want another scandal on their hands. Two of your teammates are already causing enough grief for them. I’m trying to getyourcontract renewed before the end of this season, not theirs. A drunk marriage that lasts forty-eight hours will look bad on both the team and you. You know how the media will spin this—the Seals is the home of cheating and bad decisions. What kind of team culture is there if three players on the team’s first line are in the media for all the wrong reasons? They’ll be concerned about dropping ticket and merch sales, and you’ll be the scapegoat. You’ll either be traded or your contract won’t be renewed.”
“Shit,” I cursed. “That’s so unfair.”
“Like I said, consequences.”
He let that sink in, and I groaned. I cuddled into Rusty, resting my forehead on his shoulder. With my free hand, I petted Zeus’s head, absorbing both his and Rusty’s rock-solid support for this conversation
“But I have a plan,” he continued. “You and Carina have known each other for years. When you were in Australia, you reconnected and fell madly in love. She came to visit you in the States after her divorce was finalized so you could date.”
I swallowed and shifted my grip to Rusty’s hip, both hating and loving the direction Michael was taking this.
“It was a spur of the moment decision to get married, but you’re both incredibly happy. We’ll do up the paperwork to limit her entitlement to your money as well as an NDA so she stays quiet. A prenup would have been better. But so would not getting drunk married in Vegas.”
