Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel (8 page)

She sank down on the dorm room bed. Her chin was shaking. She wrapped her arms around herself. Why was she still so hurt over something that meant nothing?

Z
ACH WALKED INTO
a quiet, dimly lit room inside the Sharks headquarters. One of the laundry guys had been tasked with ironing the long-sleeved team polo and warm-up pants he was now wearing. The makeup artist and hair person for PSN had spent the past twenty minutes brushing, spraying, and spackling him to a high sheen.

He stepped over the power cords on the floor and into the false daylight afforded by the multiple TV lights illuminating two chairs that sat face-to-face and less than three feet away from each other.

The speakers over his head crackled. “Want some water before we start, Zach? Cameron’s a bit delayed.”

He nodded. Of course she wasn’t on time. A production assistant hurried out from behind the stationary camera and extended an ice-cold bottle of water to him. He took a swig and put the half-empty bottle on the table next to his chair.

“I’m sure you’ve glanced over the questions by now. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss prior to the interview?”

“I’m good,” he assured them. He really wasn’t. He wanted to jump out of his skin. He walked out of the circle of light, took a deep breath, and heard the door open. The light from the hallway backlit Cameron’s hair as she darted into the room.

“I’m so sorry I’m—Oh!” In the split second before she landed against his chest, he realized she must have tripped on the power cords. His arms shot out to wrap around her before she hit the floor. She felt so small against him. His fingertips moved over the soft fabric of her dress, while the top of her head brushed his chin. She must have been as shocked as he was. She rested against his chest for a few seconds. He smelled the same subtle, exotic perfume she’d been wearing ten years ago. He’d smelled a lot of perfumes since then, but he’d never forgotten hers—the clean scent of lilies and musk. He’d never forgotten what it was like to hold her in his arms, either.

He felt her fingers wrap around his biceps as she tried to right herself. His arms slid away from her, and he braced her forearms with both hands.

“That’s quite an entrance, Cameron,” he said. He took another deep breath. “Are you okay?”

She sounded flustered. “I’m fine. I think I just fell over the cord.” She hauled in some breath. “It was dark.” She took a cautious step back from him. He saw her swallow hard in the dimness. “Are you okay?”

Actually, he wasn’t. The memories were flooding his brain now. He’d smelled her before he saw her that morning in the Vegas hotel room; her perfume mixed with the scent of brain-melting sex. He had the worst hangover of his life, but he forced his eyes open. It was worth the effort. Her hair was rumpled. Her skin was flushed. She beamed at him as she clutched the sheet closer. She was nude and still felt shy about it, evidently. His modest darling.

He’d reached out and pulled the sheet away from her. “Don’t ever cover them up again,” he’d said to her that morning.

Right now, though, he said, “I’m fine.”

“Thanks for catching me.”

She stood still. He didn’t move, either. He knew there were other people in the room that might want to get this show on the road. He didn’t want to let go of her soft skin. He forced himself to drop her arms, and held out his hand. “Come on.”

C
AMERON SETTLED INTO
the chair opposite Zach and tried to concentrate on the notecards in her lap. The production group was waiting for her cue. They would start counting when she indicated she was ready to start. She took another sip of water and tried to compose herself. She’d memorized the questions. She had cue cards for the introduction. This was no different than a thousand other interviews she’d ever done in her life, but she couldn’t seem to signal the production group. She licked her lips again.

Zach locked eyes with her. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. He leaned forward in his chair, reached across, and took her hands in his much bigger ones. The notecards she’d been holding dropped into her lap. He stroked his thumbs across her skin.

“What happened to us, Cameron?” His voice was raspy. He held her hands in his, scooting onto the edge of his chair, surrounding her.

“I—I,” she stammered. He waited. The laughing, carefree Zach wasn’t there anymore. His typical smile faded as pain etched his face. The makeshift TV studio was silent as they fought for words.

Cameron hauled breath into her lungs. Her lips quivered as tears rose in her eyes. The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

“Why did you leave me?” she said.

 

Chapter Seven

A
FEW SECONDS
later, Zach heard some shuffling and gasps from the group standing behind the camera and TV lights. He knew the production staff had skin in the game on the successful taping of this interview, too. Their bosses would expect something worth a ratings bonanza. He also noticed the red light over the lens was on. He realized that maybe he should ask how long they’d been filming, but right now, he was too busy getting frozen out by his ex-wife. He’d spent every day of the past ten years trying to forget her.

She’d dropped her guard for approximately five seconds, and he watched the wall of ice in her eyes re-form in milliseconds. She let go of his hands. She didn’t answer his question, but he didn’t answer hers, either.

“I might need a touch-up,” she called out to the group behind the camera. Sure enough, a slender brunette attired in black and sporting an eyebrow piercing advanced on Cameron with brushes, makeup, and a clear tube that looked like Visine. She hip-checked Zach back into his chair.

“What the hell was that?” he snapped. Cameron didn’t even glance at him. “Talk to me, Cameron.”

The makeup person ignored him and bent over Cameron. “We can fix this,” she soothed. She bent to administer eye drops, dabbed carefully around Cameron’s eyes with a tissue, and repaired her makeup. “Okay. You’re all set. Do you need more water?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you. Are you all ready?” Cameron said. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She straightened the cards in her lap, sat up in her chair, and turned toward the camera. “Let’s do this.” She nodded at the production group.

“Starting in five, four,” and the woman holding the cue cards counted off “three, two, one” with fingers instead of aloud.

“I’m Cameron Ondine, and this is a special edition of
NFL Confidential
. My guest this evening is defensive tackle Zach Anderson of the Seattle Sharks. Zach was drafted in the first round by the Sharks in 2002 and has played his entire career with them. He was selected to the Pro Bowl five times. He is a three-time All-Pro. He is considered one of the preeminent DT’s in the league. We’re happy to have him with us today. Welcome, Zach.”

She turned toward him. Her smile was completely insincere.

“Well, thanks, Ms. Ondine.” He gave her a grin to equal hers. “It’s an honor.”

He saw her nostrils flare a little. He caught a lightning-fast glimpse of hurt and anger lurking in her dark-chocolate eyes.

“Zach, let’s talk a little about this season’s training camp. How do you feel about the changes the Sharks defensive line coach made through the draft and free agency over the offseason?”

It was all Zach could do not to roll his eyes. So, she wanted to be all professional and shit? He’d see about that.

“There are a few new guys, but we’re mostly sticking with the same guys that brought us to the championships we’ve enjoyed. It’s important to reward loyalty, Cameron.” He paused for a moment and gave her an especially toothy smile. “I hope you don’t mind my calling you by your first name, by the way.” She gave him a stiff nod. “I feel confident when I’m playing next to guys who would walk through fire for the team. These guys don’t cut and run when there’s a problem. They work together toward a common goal.” He paused again. “I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

He watched her expectantly. She’d narrowed those gorgeous eyes at him. If looks could kill he’d be dead, and she swallowed hard. She glanced down at the notes in her lap again. It was so quiet in the studio he could hear someone talking through her earpiece. She gave whoever was talking a slight nod.

“The Sharks had some struggles last season. Did you make any personal adjustments on the offseason to prepare for a different outcome?”

“I spend the offseason preparing as a rule, but I’m also a firm believer in adjusting to the situation I might find myself in. I’ll do whatever I have to do to win, Cameron.”

“That’s great to hear, Zach. You signed a huge contract extension in the offseason as well. Talk to me about the fact you’ll spend the rest of your NFL career in a Sharks jersey.”

“Funny you should mention that. I’m a pretty big believer in dancing with the one that brung you, Cameron. The Sharks have treated me well over the years. It’s an honor to stay with those that do.” He leaned forward. His words were weapons, and she was about to find out how sharp his weapons were. “Plus, the money’s great, but it really doesn’t mean that much to me. It’s all about the people I love. My needs are taken care of, and I have a few of the things I want, too. Ultimately, it’s about what’s important in life.” He gave her another big, smarmy grin. Her face flooded with color. She looked like she was about to erupt off her chair. “Money’s not a lot when you don’t have someone to go home to at night.”

She gave him an equally forced smile. “That’s an interesting perspective, Zach.”

“Oh, it is,” he said. “I knew you’d agree with me.”

C
AMERON HAD AN
entire notecard of questions left to ask, but she was tired of playing cat-and-mouse with Zach. She also wondered if the fact she was afraid he was going to bust out on-camera with additional information about their history together showed on her face. She’d had to cover or conceal her true feelings many times on the air before, but thank God she’d insisted this be taped, not live. Maybe they could piece together enough of an interview that she wouldn’t have to re-tape before broadcast. Right now, she was torn between running away from him, or taking off her shoe and smacking him with it.

“Money means little to me”? This was the same guy who took a five million dollar check from her dad to annul a seventy-two-hour marriage. He was lying through his teeth, and another wave of hurt and embarrassment engulfed her. She took a deep, centering breath and faced the camera again.

“It looks like Zach might be on the hunt for a special lady. We wish him luck with that—”


One
special lady, Cameron. Let’s make sure those watching don’t forget that.” He lifted one eyebrow. “I’m a one-woman man.”

She ignored the comment; it made her want to scream. He might want to inform the four women he’d been at the Gramercy Tavern’s bar with a few days ago, too. “In the meantime, there’s breaking news from the Sharks. Maybe you’d like to share that with our viewers.”

“Absolutely.” He had a notecard of his own in his lap, she noticed. A prepared statement: lovely.

“It’s only the first day of training camp, ladies and gentlemen, and it’s already quite a ride.” He gave the camera a you-can’t-resist-me grin. “The Sharks’ head coach allegedly made some objectionable comments to Ms. Ondine and a local female sports reporter, Ms. Larsen, this morning. Coach Phillips has been suspended indefinitely by the team as a result. The Sharks organization apologizes to Ms. Ondine and Ms. Larsen for the alleged comments, and promises it won’t happen again. As a result of this morning’s incident, Sharks assistant coach Ryan Stewart has been named the team’s interim head coach.” He gave the camera another nod. “I’m sure I speak for everyone on the team when I say we’re looking forward to working with him.”

“We’ll also look forward to an interview with the Sharks’ new head coach at his earliest convenience, then. And I’d like to thank my guest, Zach Anderson, for visiting with us tonight. I’ll see you next week. As always, keep it on PSN for breaking news from the NFL. From this special edition of
NFL Confidential
, good night.” She waited for the usual signal from the production staff that they’d gotten it all on tape, and glanced through her mostly unused notecard questions.

Zach’s voice was quiet. “So, that’s it?”

Her head jerked up. “Yes. That’s it. Thanks for the interview.”

“You didn’t ask me very many questions, Cameron.” They were sitting close enough to each other that a whisper would suffice. Even more interesting, the production staff had gone silent, too. Of course they were eavesdropping.

She closed her eyes briefly, and fought to control the tone and volume of her voice. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t want another sermonette about how money is just not that important to you, and how much you prize loyalty.” She looked into his eyes. “You didn’t seem to care about “loyalty” or sticking by me ten years ago in Vegas. The only thing you cared about was seeing how quickly you could get away.”

“That’s not true. I meant what I said when I married you. I would have stayed with you until the end of time. You can’t tell me you had nothing to do with what happened.”

She could hear the gasping and “Oh my Gods” through her earpiece from the production booth.

“What happened? You walked out, you never came back, and I had to deal with my family,” she said.

He leaned toward her again. “You didn’t want me back.” He got to his feet, pulled the microphone off the neck of his polo shirt, grabbed the battery pack out of his waistband, yanked it all loose, and dropped it onto the chair across from him. She heard the door open seconds later.

C
AMERON HEARD THE
producer’s voice in her ear as she jumped out of her chair. “It might have been nice to know that you had prior history with Anderson.”

She heard another voice responding to him. “We’ll cut the personal stuff and figure out how long we still have to fill.” She didn’t need her earpiece to hear multiple people arguing over what to do now, and
oh-em-gee
, how did no one in the world not know that Zach and Cameron were married before?

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