Dearest Series Boxed Set (78 page)

H
ow do
you know your life is about to fall apart?

For me, it started at Dunkin’ Donuts. The girl across the counter had just handed me the large coffee when a guy tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was really the chick in the video. When I asked what he was talking about, the ten people in line behind us all whipped out their phones in a race to show me.

There I stood, mouth agape, coffee dripping down my arm as I realized I was looking at the video I took of Jacob getting deepthroated last summer. The same video I deleted months ago.

But it wasn’t until some jerk leaned toward me and asked if I do that for all of my boyfriends that I realized he thought
I
was the girl in the video.

At which point the coffee slipped out of my hand and crashed on the floor, splattering everyone.

I flinch as Roger taps his desk, shaking me from my thoughts. “How did this happen?” he asks, looking pissed to be having this conversation.

I open my mouth—to say what, I’m not sure—when Spencer answers. “We’re not sure, Roger. I’m on it, though.” I didn’t even realize he was in the room.

“You sure as hell had better be on it. Because the last time I checked, hacking into someone’s phone was a federal offense.”

Spencer scoffs. “Assuming what Maddie said was true.”

Roger glares at him. “I think Maddie has been perfectly upfront here. She disclosed her past relationship with Jacob in detail. I think we can trust her side of the story. Because I seriously doubt she would upload a self-condemning video to our servers.” With a pained expression, Roger turns to me. “Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?”

After a moment, I shake my head. Because now is probably not the time to tell him I’ve been having an affair with Daren for the last four months.

My stomach turns over, and I cover my mouth, willing myself to not vomit.

A knock on the door has the three of us looking up at two men in expensive suits. “Risk management. We’re here from the legal department.”

Susan the secretary pokes in her head a second later. “Boss, the phone lines are flooded. Everyone from CNN to MSNBC wants to know when we’ll have a statement.”

He waves her off. “The vultures aren’t going anywhere. They can wait.” Roger rubs his five o’clock shadow. “Maddie, do you have an attorney you can call?”

Oh, God. “I… I don’t know.”

“Really, Roger?” the risk management guy asks.

Roger points back at him. “Don’t act like you’re not ready to ruin this girl’s career over some stupid viral footage. People are starving in the streets every day, politicians take payoffs like I pop my vitamins, and the only thing you care about is this fucking video.” He slams his desk drawer shut. “The truth here is we shouldn’t give a shit who is in this video. We shouldn’t be spending the resources of our
newsroom
on this story because it’s not a goddamn news story!”

Whoa.
My eyes tear up as I realize he’s on my side.

“Maddie,” Roger says like a sigh, “find an attorney. Call someone. You shouldn’t go in with those guys without one. I know your side of things. That’s enough for today. Think you can get someone lined up for tomorrow?”

I nod even though I have no clue where to start.

On my way out to my car, I’m swarmed by reporters who scream in my face.

“Maddie, when did you do that video?”

“How long have you and Jacob been dating?”

“Were you together the night of the bachelor contest?”

Finally, I can’t stand it, and I stop to address the cameras. “I am unequivocally
not
the girl in the video. Jacob and I broke up in May, and aside from the bachelor contest promo shoots and the event itself, I haven’t spoken to him since.”

I begin to push my way through the crowd, and they keep barraging me with questions.

It isn’t until I’m parked in South Boston that I break down and cry.

* * *

I
’m lying
prone on the twin bed in the spare bedroom at my uncle’s house. The tears stopped a little while ago, but only because numbness set in.

I stare at my crap from high school, wishing my uncle Patrick hadn't gone to such lengths to help me settle in here after my dad died. I never had the heart to tell Patrick how my posters and photos and yearbooks all just reminded me of my father and made the pain worse.

Jesus. What would my dad say about this? How horrified would he be right now?

Burrowing into the cotton pillowcase, I close my eyes and try to block out thinking about my father. But being surrounded by all of my shit from high school makes it tough.

“Maddie, honey, are you okay?” My uncle pokes his head through my door. Nodding, I wipe away the wetness on my face. He shuffles uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets. “Can I bring you something to eat? Maybe some soup?”

I give him a weak smile and agree even though I’m not sure I can hold anything down. But if I don’t accept it, Patrick will worry. The door closes, and I close my eyes.

Patrick is only eight years older than I am, so he’s more like a distant older brother than uncle, but he’s always been here for me. My swan dive of public humiliation has to be hard for him. But he hasn’t said much. Just that he loves me and knows I’ll get through this.

Crashing at his house was my only option. I haven’t stayed here in years, not for any extended period of time. I never wanted to be a burden—not that my uncle ever made me feel that way, but he did so much for me growing up, and I never wanted to take advantage of his kindness.

The low murmur of the TV in the other room is a constant reminder of what I face if I try to head back to Sheri’s.

My eyes are swollen, and I feel so helpless. Tears burn in my eyes. I need to tell Daren the truth. He needs to hear it directly from me that I’m not the girl in that video. I know we’re not together anymore, but I want to tell him I would never do that to him.

But that video looks so bad. That girl looks like me. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. I hope he knows that looks can be deceiving.

All at once, I can barely breathe.

Oh my God.

Is this what he was trying to tell me? I never gave him a chance to explain because I was hell-bent on protecting myself. But what if I was wrong? What if there was an explanation for how that girl got his t-shirt? He’s never given me any reason to doubt his sincerity or honesty before.

Do I really think he cheated on me? Could he treat me the way Jacob treated me?

Nausea roils in my stomach, and
bitterness crawls up the back of my throat.

No. I don’t.

Cursing from the other room makes me lift my head. My uncle’s voice echoes down the hall. “Maddie! You need to see something! Get out here! Oh, shit.”

Ugh, I can’t take much more of this.

Lifting myself off the bed is difficult, my body feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. Sluggishly, I walk toward the living room of my uncle’s humble two-bedroom house.

When I round the corner, I see my uncle on the couch, his hand over his face. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when I look up at his flatscreen and my worst nightmare comes true. Bile pushes up the back of my throat, and I cover my mouth.

Because the girl in these images having sex with Daren? That one
is
me.

A
fter I unlace my cleats
, I slump back and watch everyone move through the locker room. Several of the guys are watching something on a cell phone in the corner, and I’m hoping like hell they’re not leering at Maddie.

Every news station is reporting the video with her ex was recent, but I can’t bring myself to buy that story. She hates Jacob. I mean, doesn’t she?

For once in my life, I feel paralyzed. Fuck, is she going to lose her job over that footage?

I scrub my face, three days’ worth of stubble scratching my palms. Someone sits next to me, and I turn to find Brentwood leaning back against the locker.

I’m pretty sure the guy hates me, but for once, he looks sympathetic. “How is your girl taking this?”

“My girl?”

“Yeah. Maddie.”

I start to shake my head, and Brentwood laughs. “Dude, don’t even fucking deny you’re together. I’ve watched you turn down chick after chick on the road for the last several months. Girls with sky-high tits and asses that wouldn’t quit. So I figured you were with someone. And the way Maddie looks at you, any idiot with a pair of eyes can see she’s in love with you.”

A flicker of something in my chest lights. Hope, maybe? Why his words make me feel better, I’m not sure. Because I’m almost certain Maddie hates me right now.

He lifts his chin. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. In fact, you’re exactly the kind of guy I want to take over my team at the end of the season when I retire.”

It takes me a full minute to process what he just said. “What? When did you decide to retire?”

“When I got my fourth concussion last fall.”

“I thought you were fully recovered.”

“Man, it only takes one good hit, and I’m done. Dead in the ground. No, thanks. I’d rather spend the next fifty years with my wife and kids, getting fat on beer and brats and talking about the good old days. I’ve had a great career, and this season looks like it might end on a high note, thanks to you. I know I haven’t praised you, but it’s been harder than I thought to give up my team. So just get through this media bullshit. That’s all it is. I see it every season. But I also know you’re above it. You’re always keeping your nose clean. Use those instincts now. They haven’t let you down so far.” He gives me a hard slap on my back that nearly knocks the wind out of me and takes off.

Fucking hell. I don’t know what to do with the bombshell he just dropped in my lap.

The team is mine if I can keep my shit together. But does football mean jack without Maddie in my life?

Not really.

My instincts. What do my instincts tell me?

That there is no way Maddie cheated on me. That even after our argument, she’d never run off to fuck Jacob. She hates him.

A roar of commotion kicks up from the corner, and I look up to find half of my team staring at me.

“What?”

Nothing. No response.

“Seriously, tell me why the fuck you’re staring at me. I’ve had a godawful week.”

“Dude, don’t kill the messenger,” Quentin says.

Fuck me. I’ve heard that before. “Just spit it out.”

“Well, I think we’re all really interested in your sex moves, man. That thing you do with her on her back…”

“You’re speaking a fucking foreign language right now.”

Quentin ambles over and hands me his phone and then reaches over to scroll through a dozen images. Of Maddie and me. On my couch. Fucking.

“What the hell is this?” My fingers grip the device.

He clears his throat. “Gifs. You know, compressed graphics. They're like mini movies a couple of seconds long."

"I know what gifs are, asshole. That's not what I mean."

He clears his throat. "I don’t know how to tell you, but there are like five different series of you guys. The story just broke. Apparently that one of her and her ex wasn’t the only thing that landed on the station’s server. These just got posted on some file-sharing website.”

“Show me the rest.” I need to know how far this goes.

They’re shot in her bedroom, on my couch, one in the recliner, and one on the floor.

Fuck. Fuck!

I look up at the guys. Some are grinning. One dick tries to give me a high five.

Quentin leans in. “I’m sorry, man.”

“I don’t know how these were taken. She was paranoid about us getting found out.”

“You sure
she
didn't take them? A lot of chicks out there would kill to do sex tapes with a guy like you.”

“Go to hell, asshole. Maddie isn’t like that.”

“I’m sorry. You’re probably right, but I thought it needed to be said.”

One of the guys is scrolling on his phone a few feet away. “These gifs are clearer than the video of her and that Jacob guy. Like it was taken with a laptop.”

My stomach clenches. Maddie thought she saw the camera light go off that one time we were going at it on the floor, after I teased her with the ice cream.

Christ.
I scrub my face again. Maddie must be freaking out. I head for the showers where I try to get my head together. By the time I get dressed, I know what I need to do.

On my way out, Jeanine stops me. She looks ready to kill someone for my PR nightmare.

“Don’t you dare think about going anywhere. You get your ass in the conference room. Here’s how I want you to roll with this. You’ve been so squeaky clean that people are devouring this story. So just admit you and Maddie had a fling. End of story.”

She ushers me into the conference room where the media immediately flash cameras. Really? How did they assemble here in the last hour? I’m the cause of this hysteria? What bullshit.

I sit next to my coach and Jeanine
puts a statement in front of me and whispers, “I wrote this out for you. All you have to do is read it.”

Coach says a few words about making a mountain out of a molehill and turns the mic over to me. I glance at the press statement and crumple it up.

I pull the mic closer. If football has taught me anything, it’s that you have to man up. I can never blame losses on someone else. It’s on me.

People are screaming out questions.

“Were you sleeping with Maddie when she was having sex with Jacob Callahan?”

“Did you know they dated in the past?”

“What did you think of the video with her and Jacob?”

“When did you guys start going out?”

I hold my hands up. “Okay, everyone, we’re doing this my way. So let’s start by quieting down. I have something to say, and I’m guessing you want to hear it.”

My eyes tear from one side of the room to the other to impress the fact that I want them to shut the fuck up.

“First, I really can’t believe that you guys don’t have more important stories to cover.” Sighing, I decide to put it all out there. People can judge this shit for themselves. “Maddie McDermott and I met through mutual friends last year and got to know each other after she was assigned to cover the weekly
Football 101
segment. That video you’ve been alleging is her in a compromising position with her ex-boyfriend Jacob is total bullshit. She and I have been dating since the summer, and I know for a fact that she loathes her ex-boyfriend. So there is no way that footage is recent. I know she told you guys it wasn’t her, and I believe her. Furthermore, anyone who knows Maddie can tell you she’d never do anything to jeopardize her career by allowing herself to be videotaped in that kind of situation.”

“You mean nothing to jeopardize her career other than sleeping with the source of her weekly segments?” someone in the back shouts.

I laugh, but it lacks any humor. “Ladies and gentlemen, Maddie is a news reporter who was moonlighting to cover our fun little football games every week. Now if you think for a moment that her journalistic integrity was compromised because she was spending time with me, you’re overestimating the value of football. Because when she wasn’t here at the stadium or being forced to cover bachelor contests, she was covering real news, like homeless shelters and fire codes and—”

“Porn!” someone yells. “Don’t forget that porn story she's covering, Daren.”

“Yes, that’s true. And while I think she raised some valuable issues for the city councilmen to consider, I don’t appreciate the way you make her story seem so lecherous. Shame on you. I’m proud to call Maddie my friend, one of my best friends in fact, and I’m an even luckier bastard to call her my girlfriend. What you really should be trying to dig up is the asshole who hacked her laptop.”

I get up, too disgusted with these people to continue. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my girlfriend.”