Author: Jaci Burton

This was going to be the year he’d become a star. He was home now and this was the right team. It might not be game time yet, but something was gelling for him. There was a renewed sense of fire in his gut that he hadn’t felt since he was a rookie. And if he had to grind his cleats over all the other wide receivers to show the team how good he was, that’s what he’d do.

He’d noticed Liz and Savannah on the sidelines watching the drills, decided to ignore them both while he worked out with the coaches. No distractions today, not when he was focused on work. He tuned them out until four hours later when he was drenched in sweat and every muscle in his body screamed in pain from the nonstop drills and sprints they’d put him through.

“You’re done,” the trainer said to the wide receivers. “Hit the showers.”

Thank god. He pulled off his helmet and walked to the sideline for a drink.

“You’re huffing and puffing like an old man,” Liz said, leaning her hip against the drink table. “Too tough for you out there?”

He downed the drink in two gulps, then tossed the cup in the trash and grinned at her. “Nope. Just the way I like it.”

He shifted his gaze to Savannah. “What are you doing here?”

“Observing.”

“Did I pass or fail?”

“You didn’t punch any of the coaches or any of the other players, so I’d call it a good day.”

He laughed. “Come on. I’m not that bad, Peaches.”

“Aren’t you? I’ve read your file. You’re not exactly known for playing well with others.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Then we’ll take you to lunch,” Liz said.

He shrugged. “Fine with me.”

He showered off the grime and pieces of turf, changed clothes, and met Savannah and Liz in the parking lot. He wasn’t sure, but this felt a little like some kind of intervention. “You’re not both here to gang up on me, are you?”

Liz linked her arm in his. “Afraid of two small women?”

“Normal women? No. You two? Yes.”

Liz gave him a diabolical laugh. “Good. You should be wary of us. We’ve been plotting.”

He shifted his gaze to Savannah, who cast an innocent look his way.

Bullshit. He wasn’t buying it.

“Christ.” He raked his hand through his damp hair. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

They drove to a restaurant. It was past lunch hour, but too early for dinner. Still, he was starving so he was glad the place was open. He was in the mood for a giant burger, which he ordered as soon as the waiter showed up to take their drink order.

Liz grabbed the bread basket, then pushed it aside. “No. Wedding. Must fit into my dress.”

Savannah gave her a smile. “Just one piece?”

“Don’t enable me. I’m resisting carbs until after the wedding. After that I’m going to devour an entire loaf of French bread. Possibly an entire bakery of bread. Poor Gavin. He might have to take me to a bakery on our wedding night.”

Savannah laughed. “You’re a stronger woman than I am. I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

Cole frowned. “Why can’t you have the bread?”

“You’re such a guy. You don’t understand. My dress fits me. I mean really fits me. I have to watch everything I eat right now.”

He shook his head. “Women.”

“It’s only a few days,” Liz said, then turned to Savannah. “I’m dreaming of bread and pasta, though.”

“I would be, too,” Savannah said with a sigh. Then reached for the bread. “Sorry.”

“Bitch. I hate you. I’m going to watch you eat every bite.”

Women were odd creatures. He wasn’t even going to try to figure that out. Instead, he ate his salad, glad to be eating something and ignorant of the female species.

“So let’s talk media interviews,” Savannah said after they’d all filled their stomachs.

Content after the giant hamburger he’d devoured, Cole pushed his empty plate to the side and took a drink of iced tea. “What media interviews?”

“One of the local news stations wants to do a piece on your coming to the Traders for their ten o’clock sports cast.”

He looked at Savannah, then shook his head. “Me and the media don’t mesh.”

“They’re going to have to,” Liz said. “You can’t avoid PR forever just because a few guys with cameras have pissed you off in the past.”

“This is true,” Savannah added. “The whole purpose of me working with you is to get you media ready. You’re going to have to do interviews.”

He leaned back in the chair. “The media makes up shit about me. They’re going to go into this with preconceived notions about me. You know they’re going to bring up everything that’s happened in the past.”

Savannah nodded. “That could be. I’ll coach you on how to handle those questions, downplay the negative and accentuate all the positive aspects of you being with the Traders this year.”

“This doesn’t sound like a good idea.” He’d never volunteered for media interviews. Not since they started going south on him.

“It’s necessary,” Liz said. “The sooner you get started working with the media and turning your image around, the better it will be for you.”

“Maybe we could feed them the questions to ask.”

Savannah shook her head. “You can’t limit the media. That will only make them suspicious and more difficult to deal with. It’s best to be an open book. The more honest you are, the less negative they’ll be.”

Before he could object, Liz piped up with, “This is why we brought Savannah in. She’s an expert in this area.”

He knew he was going to get ganged up on. Good thing he’d already eaten lunch because just thinking about sitting down with sports media had his stomach clenching. “Fine. When?”

Savannah checked her phone. “In about two hours. They want it for the broadcast tonight.”

“You set me up so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.”

“Of course we set you up,” Liz said with a sly grin. “What kind of an agent would I be if I didn’t maneuver you into doing my bidding?”

He turned to Savannah. “How long have you known about this?”

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“That date we had last night. Was that to mellow me out and make it more likely I’d be cooperative?”

She frowned. “I didn’t know anything about the interview last night. Liz called me this morning about it.”

Liz glanced from him to Savannah. “What date?”

Savannah waved her hand. “It was nothing. An exercise.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever. I’ll leave you two to work on the specifics of the interview. I have wedding stuff.”

Liz kissed Savannah’s cheek and stood, glaring at Cole with her fiercest agent look. “Behave and don’t fuck this up.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m serious. And I need you to take this seriously.”

“Jesus. I said I would and I will. You two are like my grandmother. Nags. Go play bride-to-be and leave me alone. I’ll be good.”

She laughed. “See you later.”

After Liz left, he turned to Savannah. “Okay, get me the hell ready for this inquisition.”

She stood. “Let’s go to the studio. They’ve offered us private space for preparation prior to the interview.”

“I don’t think so. We’ll go to my place. I don’t want them bugging the room or popping in to see how we’re doing and asking a bunch of nosy questions. They’ll get my time for the interview and nothing before that.”

“Paranoid much?”

“Yeah, totally. I don’t trust the media. They’ve screwed me over too many times.”

She followed him back to his condo. He cleared a spot at the table and they grabbed some water and sat.

“All right,” Savannah said, pulling a sheet of paper from her briefcase. “Since this is local news and not national, they’re likely just going to ask you about you being with the Traders this season. Remember, their job is to talk up their local team, not just you. I’ve met Hal Marbrook and have worked with him on behalf of the team before. He’s been with this network sports outlet for fifteen years. He’s a nice man, and also very knowledgeable about the Traders. He’s aware of the team’s needs and what they’ve risked bringing you on board. So while he’ll cut you some slack because of his dedication to the Traders, he might press you about your past altercations. Be prepared for that.”

“I’m always prepared for anything when it comes to the media. And I don’t doubt for a second that no matter how nice a guy Hal Marbrook is, it’s his job to get a juicy story.”

“Just don’t go into it thinking negatively. He could make you look good.”

He wasn’t buying it. “It’s not the media’s job to make players look good. It’s their job to gain viewership. Controversy gains viewers. If you got him an interview with me as an exclusive, I can guarantee you he’s coming after me.”

She nodded. “It’s a possibility, but I don’t think so. So don’t plan on a fight when you might not get one. Be pleasant, be courteous, and above all, smile. Take a lot of deep breaths and pause before you answer each question. Think about your answer. Remember, you need your hometown in your corner. You’re not going to get them if you piss them off before you ever take the field for your first preseason game.”

He couldn’t tell if this was her normal way of dealing with her clients, or if she was covering all her bases because she was afraid he was going to explode into some chair-throwing maniac on the air.

“You know, just because I got into a few altercations with some of the media doesn’t mean I’m going to implode every time someone with the press interviews me. I really do know how to handle myself in an interview.”

“Really? Because you haven’t shown much of that lately.”

Okay, she had him there. “Trust me. I’ll prove it to you.”

“You’re going to have to, because I was hired to rework your image, and a large part of that involves your relationship with the media, which you have to admit hasn’t always been a friendly one.”

“I’ll admit to that.”

“Upper management expects that to change.”

“And that sounds an awful lot like an ‘or else.’ ”

“I don’t deal in ‘or elses.’ That’s for upper management.”

She leveled a sweet-as-pie smile at him while delivering that not-so-subtle threat. He’d have to be brain-dead to miss it.

He wasn’t brain-dead. “I’ll handle it.”

“I’m sure you will. Would you like to go over some practice questions so we can work on your potential answers?”

He laughed. “Not a chance in hell. I’d rather go off the cuff.”

“Uh-huh. And that’s what’s gotten you into trouble in the past. I’d much rather have you well prepared for any possibility.”

“And you know as well as I do that you can’t prepare for what they might throw at me.”

“No, but we can practice.”

He stood and grabbed his phone. “Look at the time. I should change clothes so we’re not late.”

“Cole.” She stood, the warning tone in her voice making her unhappiness very clear to him.

“I’ll be right back, Peaches.” He stopped, turned to her. “Unless you’d like to come into the bedroom and dress me, too.”