Ask For It (29 page)

She took a deep breath.

THINK HE’S HEADING BACK TO NEW YORK. NOT GOING WELL HERE.

She wasn’t sure what else to say, but knew that Greg would understand so she hit send.

A few deep breaths and a good long stare at herself helped to calm her down. Dammit. She was stronger than this. It was time to push aside the fear of what had happened to Trevor in the past, along with this current threat. Sure, it was smart to be alert, but constant worry wasn’t.

She couldn’t let the anxiety of losing him rule her. She wasn’t losing him. Not now. They had a few things to work out. That was all.

It was high time to put on her big girl panties and deal with her life. That included a shitty boss, a wigged out boyfriend, and anyone else who felt like messing with her.

After putting the phone in her back pocket, she rinsed her face with cool water and then looked up into bloodshot eyes. Damn, she looked like hell warmed over. This was no way for a woman in charge of her life to look.

She dug a brush out of her bag and tamed her blonde locks. When her phone vibrated, she pulled it out and saw Greg’s number.

Suddenly she felt weepy again.

“Hey,” she said.

“You okay? What happened?”

She didn’t want to get into it but her mouth ran away with her, unleashing the whole story. The torment of the last few days. Dear God, if this was his life, how could she be in it? Even out of the sport, so many people came up to him during lunch. How could she deal with the media hounding them all the time? Making things up? Pestering them for answers?

No. She wasn’t going to think like that. She was in control of her life. Her actions.
Big girl panties… remember the big girl panties.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“That’s what big brothers are for,” he teased.

She sniffed and smiled. “I’m three months older, little brother.”

“And I’m six inches taller, little sister.”

Laughing, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Greg. I’m so glad my mom married your dad and gave me such wonderful brothers.”

“Aww, now don’t get all sappy on me. You’ve still got work to do. And I’ve got to get your ice maker hooked up.”

“My ice maker?”

“Yeah, I was going to surprise you, but you sound like you could use a pick me up. Your kitchen will be completely finished by the time you get back. I even took it upon myself to find the perfect knobs this go round.”

“Hallelujah!” A major headache off her plate. “Thanks for the good news. I needed that.”

Desperately.

“Sure thing. I’ll see you when you get back. Take care of yourself.”

She was pretty sure Joe had her covered in that arena. Although, it was up to her to keep her heart intact.

Trevor felt like an ass. He pulled a long swig of his beer and wished he could press the mute button on the remote. With the playoffs in town, the airport was busier than Black Friday at Wal-Mart. He couldn’t even charter a plane right now.

So he sat at the bar and tried to tune out the world around him. Especially the flat panel TVs staring back at him. Reporting the game and everything surrounding it. He had three different channels to look at.

It’d be so easy to give in, to do an interview. To share one of the scariest and most embarrassing… no, the scariest night of his life. Just get it all out there. But the stubborn side of him wondered why he needed to. He didn’t owe anyone anything.

Except for Julia. He thought back over their dozens of conversations. She hadn't asked him any personal probing questions. Nothing a journalist would have asked. She’d never pressured him to do an interview… unless you counted today.

She was warm and attentive. By some miracle, she loved him. But at the same time, he felt like she’d kept part of herself closed off. Like she didn’t get as close as she naturally would.

And that was his fault. His doing. Keeping secrets. Not being open… hiding that awful night. It was his fault if she felt like she couldn’t be completely herself. That she wasn’t completely at ease.

And now, with this latest threat… neither of them were at ease and he had no idea how to get back to it. Sure, Joe provided a little bit of comfort, but—

But he'd spent such a large chunk of his life there, the public, and the media, felt like they knew him. Like he owed them an explanation.

But some things were too hard to admit to himself let alone the world.

A text from Greg popped up on his phone.

WAS GOING TO INVITE YOU OVER TO WATCH THE GAME BUT JJ SAID YOU’RE BACK IN NEW YORK.

Trevor sighed. His heart ached and he wasn’t sure of anything at the moment. But honesty was the best policy.

ON MY WAY. I NEEDED SOME TIME AWAY FROM THIS CIRCUS. TO THINK.

Greg must have been waiting around because he replied quickly.

ABOUT WHAT? YOU KNOW SHE LOVES YOU. SHE WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO COMPROMISE YOUR PRIVACY. SHE’S JUST AS PRIVATE AS YOU ARE.

There was a subtle ‘or have you not noticed?’ tacked on to the end of the sentence.

Trevor sighed, not sure what to believe.

SHE’S —

He didn’t get the rest of the sentence out before his phone rang.

“Yeah.”

“Look, your relationship is your business and I don’t want to butt in—” Greg started. “But has she ever struck you as the type that would steamroll anyone to get what she wanted?”

“She’ll do anything to keep her job.”

“How do you figure that?”

“She told me about her past, about digging through the garbage for her dinner. I get it. She wants to be financially secure.”

“She
is
financially secure. When Mom died, dad gave us all part of the life insurance money. And I know for a fact that every time we sell a condo, she socks away eighty percent of what Uncle Sam doesn’t take. You think that shit-for-pay job is keeping her financially secure?”

If that was the truth, then why was she so set on keeping her job? If it wasn’t about the money, then what was it about? Landing the next big interview?

For the first time in over a year Trevor had a strong urge to call Carson. It wouldn’t do any good of course. It was unlikely that he’d answer Trevor’s call. But man, he missed the days when they confided in each other. Figured out their problems together. The only other person he’d ever want to turn to in this situation was the one woman he couldn’t call.

“Besides, if she was really concerned about money, wouldn’t she quit the stupid job and shack up with you?”

Now that made sense.

“Thanks for calling, Greg.”

“One more thing. Did you know that JJ’s boss said he’d fire her if she doesn’t interview you?”

“What the hell?”

“Just thought you should know, but I doubted she’d tell you.”

“Thanks.” I think.

“Anytime.”

Unfortunately, Trevor felt more confused than before.

“JJ, they want you in the box.”

She frowned. “Who does?”

The beady eyed man shrugged and put his massive earphones on again. He waved her along. She followed him down the hall and up the stairs to the press box where the commentators discussed the players and the game.

“JJ, you're looking beautiful as always.” A man who she faintly recognized ushered her forward. “Always so stylish. When you get tired of hiding behind the newsprint, you give me a call, okay, honey?”

She had a weird Twilight Zone moment where nothing made sense and she wondered briefly if she was dreaming.

“Someone get a mike on her.”

“What?”

“They've opened a spot for you at the table,” a voice said.

JJ craned her head around the video camera and saw the big half-moon table with the station insignia blazed across the front. Potted ferns dotted the shot and four men in crisp suits sat there talking. A fifth chair sat empty at the end.

A wave of nausea swept over her. She turned to ask for clarification but the short, beady eyed tech guy was coming at her with a mike pack.

“This isn't my job,” she said to no one in particular. Somewhere in the very back of her mind she thought how cool it would be to sit at the table with the commentators, the big boys. But the rest of her, her stomach included, felt totally unprepared. How did her hair look?

Evidently, not good. A stylist stepped toward her with a round brush and a can of hair spray.

She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't a reporter. She didn't do... JJ gulped.
TV
.

But before she could escape, her hair was fixed, the mike was clipped to her blouse, thank God she'd worn something decent to the game, and someone was pushing her toward the empty chair.

“JJ,” Monty Hall said. Her eyebrows inched upward as she sat down. He knew her name? “We're so glad you could join us.”

“We hope we didn't pull you away from an important interview,” Stu Thompson said. The four of them looked at her expectantly. Were they filming this? She laced her fingers in her lap to keep from fidgeting.

“How's the mood in the locker room?” Trey Alexander asked, his voice smooth and dreamy. She’d never had the pleasure of interviewing him as his career had been over a few years before hers had started, but boy oh boy. He still had
it
.

They all turned to her.

She glanced at the camera and back at them. “Intense. They're focused on the game ahead,” she said.

“Good, good. We heard you had lunch with Trevor Wyatt. How's ol’ Trevor doing?”

How did they know that? She could guess. In the age of twitter and Facebook, nothing was private anymore. Except Trevor’s accident… for the time being.

JJ swallowed hard. She should have known they wouldn't invite her into the boys club unless they were after information.

“Trevor is doing just fine.” She really shouldn't have called their relationship inconvenient. It wasn't true. Sure, it was a bump in the road, but she highly doubted either of them would ever use the term inconvenient.

Blissful. Swoon worthy. Knee knocking. Rocky. Yes.

But dammit, he acted like she did something wrong. Like wondering or asking him questions… he’d better get used to it. It was big girl panty time.

“What'd you guys have for lunch?” Trey teased, his blue eyes shining beneath a cap of silver hair.

“I had Chicken Parmesan. With extra parmesan,” she told Trey with what she hoped was a sweet smile.

“Since the two of you are so close maybe you can answer some questions for our viewers, questions we've all been wondering,” Monty said, gesturing to the four of them.

Was he really going to sit there and insinuate... he sure was. The bastard. From the corner of her eye she saw Joe step next to the camera. His tall, dark and deadly presence calmed her.

“We all know about Trevor's accident and that he left the sport after that, but from what we understand it was a knee injury that he could have come back from.” Stu, the jerk had the nerve to look sympathetic.

There was a pause as she stared at each man in turn. They were obviously waiting for her to fill in a blank. The overhead lights were hot and she felt like she might boil beneath the spotlights. Quickly, she glanced around the room at all the wires. The cameras. The people. They were all waiting for her to answer. To tell Trevor’s darkest secrets. Again, she wondered if she was dreaming.

It could have only been a second or two, the pause. But it was long enough to disgust her. And to tweak the dial on her life to crystal clear.

Another quick glance at Joe steeled her determination. She hoped Trevor was watching. Then she turned on her sweetest smile.

“Mr. Alexander, I was just thinking about you the other day. How’s your leg?” It was common knowledge that a bad on field break had ended his illustrious career.

His jaw dropped open before he recovered quickly. “It’s fine.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that,” she said, putting the accent on real thick. She heard Joe chuckle. “I’m sure it’s a pain for everyone to ask that all the time. Kind of reminds me of when my momma was alive. She was always asking when I was going to find the ‘one’ and bring him home for dinner.” She gave a quick little faux chuckle.

“But it’s probably even more annoying for your whole future to be dictated by one bum leg and to be reminded of it every day.” She shook her head in sympathy and sighed.

“The truth of the matter is Trevor and I
are
in a relationship. Love you sweetie,” she said directly to the camera and then turned to the four numbskulls at the table. “Obviously, I spent years interviewing him and everyone else down in the locker room. But now that I’m on the other side of the mike, it’s a whole different world. You know how that is Trey?” She paused to kick up a grin at him. “My point is I'm sure if Trevor wanted the world to know his business, he'd tell you. Don’t you think?” She gave them an arched look. “And if you think that just because I’ve spent the last seven years as a journalist I’m going to tell you anything personal…” You can go to hell. “You’ve got another think coming. Good day, gentlemen.”

She’d always wanted to say that. With a smirk, she pushed away from the desk and hopped out of the chair.

She didn't bother to see if they looked as stunned as she hoped they felt. She knew for certain they wouldn’t feel ashamed for asking questions like that. Men like them rarely did. Well, maybe Trey Alexander would.

She marched down the corridor, Joe and the tech guy hot on her heels. He plucked at the mike box hooked to the back of her skirt.

“Don't touch me.” She whirled around to face him. A crowd had gathered in the doorway, a matching stunned expression on all their faces. Joe was right by her side, holding the guy back. Joe reached behind her and unclipped the pack as she unhooked the mike from her blouse. Together they thrust the equipment into the tech’s hands.

“Let’s go,” she said to Joe. “We’re done here.”

She
was done here.

Trevor sat in stunned amazement.

His head had popped up the moment he’d heard Julia’s voice. He'd known what was coming next… commentator’s lived for ratings.