One Last Play, page 21
A bolt of tension danced in Alex’s neck, in his shoulders. He did not move.
“I wanted to say it,” said Miguel, his thumb rubbing circles at the base of Alex’s hairline, “before everything started. Before everyone else knew, too. But I am trying to be brave. I am trying not to hide as much, anymore.” Another kiss, on that wonderful chin. “You know,” he went on, the words coming without his permission, “when we were apart, and I had to… go to parties, or talk to people, I would try to imagine what you would do. What you would say. I would think of you. How brilliant you are at connecting with people. And I think there is a lot you can teach me. But I also think there is a lot I can show you, too. And I think that maybe it starts here. With this.”
Now, finally, Alex sucked in a breath. The liquid in his eyes pooled, but Miguel did not say anything about it. He just held the wonderful man lying on top of him and said, “Come. Let’s sleep.”
Later, in the darkness, Alex clung to him like a barnacle, and Miguel just smiled into his hair, feeling the unsaid. Alex trembled. Miguel held him. And like that, they slept.
Twenty-Three
Cassidy took a sip of her coffee and winced — her roommate had burnt it again. Or maybe their ancient Mr. Coffee was finally giving up the ghost. She pulled up her personal notebook on her iPad, made a note to look for a new machine the next time she was at Target. Then she checked her budget spreadsheet, winced again. Erased ‘Target’ and replaced it with ‘Goodwill.’
“Cas,” said Irena, her voice smooth as she typed an email on her laptop. “Cancel my two o’clock. Move him to Thursday.”
“Absolutely.” Cassidy flipped through Irena’s calendar — a wild rainbow array of insanity — and did as she was told. A text message popped up on her screen. “The salads will be here at twelve-thirty. I’ll have them brought up from the lobby.”
“Really?” Marta raised a thick, dark eyebrow, unimpressed. “You make your assistant order your lunch?”
“Our lunch,” Irena corrected without looking up. “You’re welcome.”
“Salad?” said Benita, her nose crinkling. She reminded Cassidy of a bunny, and her wide, dark eyes only added to the impression. The last time Cassidy had seen her, on the Day of Reckoning — the fallout from Miguel’s thirst trap — Benita had been running on several Red Bulls and wearing Rugrats pajamas, curled into a corner of Irena’s office couch like she was fused to it. She looked much better now, in a sleek outfit with her long hair in a ponytail. “I wanted pizza.”
Marta sighed like a long-suffering older sister, which was fair — she was the eldest of the three women. “Where are they? Isn’t it rude to be late?”
“The meeting doesn’t start for five more minutes, Marta.” Irena spoke in a low murmur.
Marta sniffed. “Ten minutes early—”
“—is five minutes late,” Benita finished for her, rolling her eyes. Then she muttered something in Spanish that made Irena’s mouth twitch and Marta’s eyes flash.
Sometimes, Cassidy wished that she knew more than just conversational Spanish. Other times, she was grateful for her ignorance.
Then the door opened, and her jaw about fell on the table.
Jessica Bay walked into the conference room, tailed by a harried young man — her assistant, Cassidy guessed — and two other women, one of whom was none other than Vicky Helmut. All four of them froze when they saw who was sitting at the table. Cassidy guessed that Irena looked as shocked as she did.
Jessica recovered first, flashing a dazzling, if smug, smile. “Well, this is a surprise.”
“Jessica.” Irena stood up, abandoning her laptop for the first time in hours. “How wonderful to see you.”
“And you.” Jessica shook Irena’s hand, then did the same with Marta. “Forgive me, but I was under the impression that I was meeting with—”
“ToneWater executives?” said Marta. Her smile did not reach her eyes. “Us, too.”
Cassidy gulped, reaching for her coffee again. It wasn’t every day that two rival managers graced the same room, let alone the same meeting. And the fact that Vicky, one of the biggest publicists in the game, was here as well…
“There must be some kind of mistake,” said Vicky, her sharp gaze flashing from Marta to Benita to Cassidy. “For God’s sake, we flew out here—”
“I’m sure this confusion will be cleared up momentarily,” said Jessica, taking a seat at the table like a princess taking her throne. She whipped out a tablet and a glitzy travel cup while her assistant hurried to get set up in the seat beside her. “My client was very clear that we needed to be present at this meeting. No phones, no Zoom. In-person only.”
“Your client,” Marta repeated, leaning back in her chair. “Who are you representing today?” It was a fair question. Jessica had one of the largest rosters in the industry.
“That’s irrelevant,” Jessica replied, “until I ascertain the nature of this meeting.”
Vicky sat down with a huff, her Louboutins echoing against the smooth floor. “At least there’s no one here from Legal. Unless,” she said to Cassidy, “you’re a very poorly-dressed lawyer?”
Heat flared over Cassidy’s cheeks, but she didn’t say anything. Irena, voice icy, said, “No, there’s no one here from Legal.”
“I suppose that’s some comfort.” Vicky’s hawkish gaze went to Benita next, like she was trying to x-ray her. Benita only smiled.
The next few minutes passed like nails on a chalkboard. Marta, Irena, and Jessica made some small talk. Vicky ignored everyone and tapped away at her phone. The woman seated beside her — whom no one had bothered to introduce — glanced around, eyes wide. She looked like a suburban mom and stuck out like a coffee stain.
The vague sound of footsteps in the hall was all the warning they had before a dark mass filled the doorway and Miguel De Santos walked into the room.
Cassidy had interacted with him plenty over the past few years, just as she had with all of Irena’s clients, but that didn’t stop an unhelpful, shivery tremor from going through her stomach. The man was just so big. Standing next to him was like standing next to a mountain. And he was so quiet, almost shy. He’d blushed the last time she’d brought him a coffee. And, of course, he was beautiful. For a moment, she couldn’t help herself from staring at him, and at his unruly, gorgeous hair. He’d grown it out long, longer than she’d ever seen it, and it was enough to distract her from the fact that he wasn’t scowling.
But Miguel De Santos was always scowling.
“Ah, Miguel,” said Irena, relief palpable in her voice. “Can you tell us what’s going on? This is my colleague, Jessica Bay. We both thought we were here to meet with ToneWater, but it seems that we were double-booked for some reason. The ToneWater people are nowhere to be seen.”
Miguel said nothing. He merely offered her a smile, his eyes bright, then stepped aside as another person walked into the room.
A tiny explosion went off in the back of Cassidy’s head.
Alex Warren.
Alex fucking Warren.
“Hey.” He grinned at all of them, looking like an off-duty model in his oversized Venice Beach t-shirt and jeans, and went over to Jessica. “Sorry for all the secrecy, folks, but it was easier this way.” He kissed Jessica on the cheek, nodded at Vicky, then beamed at the third woman, leaning down to wrap her in a huge hug.
Okay. So this was Warren’s management team. What the fuck?
Irena, to her credit, hadn’t fainted. Cassidy was ready to. Marta, who had watched everything with narrowed eyes, said, “Will someone please tell us what the fuck is going on?”
Benita just looked gleeful, slouching back in her chair with the air of a winning gambler at the races. Another prickle went down Cassidy’s spine — foreboding.
“Sure.” Unbothered, Alex closed the conference room door. Then, without missing a beat, he took Miguel’s hand, their fingers intertwining.
It was as if he’d dropped the world’s largest, quietest bomb. A ringing silence filled the room, or maybe that was just Cassidy’s brain switching off. Her hands began to tremble and her mouth went dry.
A quick glance around the room told her that everyone else felt pretty much the same way. Vicky looked ready to throttle something. Benita was grinning, almost smug. And the nameless woman was stunned, hand over her mouth, eyes shining as she looked up at Alex. Like she was proud.
“So.” Alex seemed pretty pleased with himself, and Cassidy saw the way Miguel looked at him, the corner of his mouth twitching with endearment. “Questions?”
True to form, Jessica recovered first. “Well,” she said. “I guess that congratulations are in order.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Vicky spat. “Miguel fucking De Santos?!”
“Yup,” said Alex, breezy.
“Anyone in the goddamn world and you pick Miguel fucking De Santos!”
“Look at him. Can you blame me?”
“But you…” Irena spoke for the first time. She was staring at Miguel. “You hate one another.”
“We never hated one another,” Alex said quickly. “Not even after the… yeah.”
“How did you two meet?” Irena said next, and Cassidy could hear the emotion hidden beneath her words. Heavy and real, reminiscent of betrayal. “You’ve never even spoken off the field.”
“I was about to ask the same thing,” said Jessica, a sharp look in her eyes.
“Actually,” said Alex. “I think we have you to thank for it, Jess. And Irena. We met on the island, back in March.”
Cassidy fumbled her iPad pencil, nearly dropping it. What.
Although that answered the question of who had been taking all those thirst traps of Miguel.
“So you’ve…” Marta cleared her throat. “You’ve been together for almost six months?”
“Not quite.” Alex’s ears turned red, and Cassidy had enough brain power to find it cute. “But this is happening, and we know it’s going to be difficult. We just want to make it as easy as possible for everyone.”
Vicky smiled without warmth. Benita was still smirking, completely unfazed. Jessica had begun tapping away at her tablet, all business. Irena was staring at Miguel, eyes wide, expression hurt.
Cassidy glanced up in time to see Miguel meet Irena’s gaze, to see something work through his face before it flickered away, trapped beneath his stoic expression.
“You couldn’t have brought this to me before the season started?” Vicky opened her laptop and put on a pair of glasses worth more than what Cassidy made in a week. “You do love being dramatic, Warren.”
He grinned again, hair curling over his forehead, and Cassidy had to blink a few times to come back to earth. “Aw, shucks, Vick. You know you love me.”
As one, Alex and Miguel sat down at the table. They let go of each other, but Cassidy saw how in sync they were, relaxed despite the tense situation. She saw Miguel watch Alex and Alex watch Miguel. There was something there, something pulling tight between them. Then she noticed Miguel’s hand resting on Alex’s thigh beneath the table and had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.
Irena had buried her face in her laptop, hair falling around her cheeks. “So how are we handling this? Are you two doing an announcement? A press conference?”
“Sooner is better than later,” said Jessica, tapping at her screen. Her poor assistant was typing furiously at his laptop. Across from him, the other woman had taken out her phone and a little notepad, uncapping a fancy ballpoint pen that contradicted her Old Navy outfit. She dabbed at her eyes, still smiling.
Alex shook his head. “We’re not doing any of that.”
“Why not?” said Vicky. “Better to own it than let the tabloids spill it.”
“We didn’t do any of that stuff when I was dating Hailey,” he said. “I don’t want this to be different from any other relationship I’ve had.”
“Sweetie, a lot of those relationships were staged,” said Vicky, and Cassidy couldn’t blame Miguel for the way his jaw tightened.
“I’m not handling this any differently,” said Alex, a tough edge creeping into his voice. Cassidy got a flash of what he was like as a quarterback. A leader. “Same way I’d handle having a girlfriend. Like Hailey,” he said again.
Vicky gritted her teeth, but Jessica nodded and said, “We understand. So you two are serious?”
“Yes,” said Alex, and Cassidy didn’t miss the way Miguel looked at him.
“Okay. I just figured I’d ask — you don’t want to go through all this trouble for something that’s going to end in three months.”
Alex’s jaw twitched. “So there’s going to be trouble?”
“I’m not going to mince words, Alex.” Jessica met his gaze. “The longer you can keep this under wraps, the better. And I’d say that even if you were dating a woman.”
Vicky nodded. “The season after a Mega Bowl win’s always tough.”
A tense silence fell. Jessica broke it by saying, “Alex, why don’t we start with what you need from us? How can we help?”
Things loosened up after that and Cassidy lost herself in the minutiae of schedules and travel and bookings. The mystery woman’s name was Brenda, and it turned out she was Alex’s personal assistant, responsible for his calendars and meetings and everything in-between. Brenda, Cassidy, and Jessica’s assistant, Bruce, took over one end of the table, working to synchronize Alex and Miguel’s schedules. Since Miguel was basically free all of time, it was easier than Cassidy had expected.
But Alex’s schedule promised to be brutal. On top of the regular season and everything that came with it, he had media spots, promotional photoshoots, his Calvin Klein campaign, and more than a few charity events back in Louisiana. Finding little pieces of time for him to see Miguel — or vice versa — was like pulling teeth.
Even if Miguel didn’t say anything, Cassidy could sense his worry. He watched the three assistants with a tight gaze, listening to all the plans and changes, occasionally flexing his knuckles. “EL” flashed at her from across the table.
“You’ll need to be careful with what you post online,” Vicky was saying to Alex. “His tattoos are recognizable. Even if you don’t show his face, people will figure out who he is.”
“There are ways around that,” said Benita. Unlike everyone else, she’d only been working on her phone, and infrequently. “If you want to post about your relationship at all, that is. Besides,” she added, tapping a few things on her screen, “people already think something’s going on with you two.”
A weird chill spread over the table. Cassidy risked a glance at Alex and saw that he was surprised, his brow furrowed.
“What?” snapped Vicky. “What do you mean?”
Benita tapped at her screen. “At 11:04PM Hawaii time on March 11th, two days after Miguel’s arrival on Isla de los Sueños, Alex Warren followed Miguel De Santos’ official Instagram account. That evening, he liked half a dozen of Miguel’s photos, all in a row. ”
A giggle threatened in Cassidy’s throat. She swallowed it, sucked in a breath, held it.
“And then we have the day that Miguel sent me his famous thirst trap. Less than twenty-four hours after I posted it, Alex Warren liked it.” She looked up, her dark eyes glittering. “I happened to actually be on Miguel’s account at the precise moment that Mr. Warren liked it. Saw it happen in real time.”
Sweet suffering Jesus.
Alex was blushing again, but he seemed unruffled. “Okay, but that doesn’t prove—”
“Your likes are public, Mr. Warren.” Benita’s voice was smooth. “And people are insane.”
“You mean to say,” said Irena, “that people went through his likes and—”
Benita nodded. “There are already several Reddit threads and a ridiculous number of Tumblr blogs trying to prove that something’s going on between you two.”
This, finally, seemed to render Alex speechless. Miguel looked ready to split the table in half.
“Things could be worse,” said Vicky. “I’d take this over a nude photo leak any day.”
Jessica cleared her throat, pointed. “So we’re not doing a press conference or a statement. Alex, what’s your media plan?”
“If someone asks me if I’m single, I’ll say no.” Alex glanced at Miguel. “And we don’t intend to hide this from our families.”
Vicky sighed through her nose. “Fine. Let’s aim for a hard launch after the season ends, okay? And try to keep things quiet until then.”
Irritation rippled over Alex’s features, but Miguel reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Okay,” said Miguel. It was the first time he’d spoken since entering the room.
“In the meantime,” Vicky went on, “only confide in people you know you can trust. We need to be the ones in control of this information. Communication is key here, Warren. You keep us up to date, yes? Not a single social media post without my team’s approval.”
“We can play with the optics a little,” said Jessica, thoughtful. “Gigi’s in town. She’s free for lunch tomorrow.”
“Really?” Alex’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s your play? Setting me up for lunch with my ex? In full view of half a dozen guys with their cameras, I’m guessing.”
“It’ll keep the tabloids busy,” Jessica replied. “Buys you some privacy.”
“Fine.” The muscle in Alex’s jaw twitched again. Cassidy felt a stab of pity for him — he’d walked in all cheerful and pleased, and now he just looked pissed and tired.
Things wrapped up quickly after that. Cassidy fielded contact information from Alex’s team and added a standing weekly appointment for Irena and Jessica to touch base. She looked at Alex’s schedule for the next two months, then glanced at where he and Miguel were holding hands under the table.
There were definitely a few sleepless nights in her future.
Alex’s people left soon after that — they had flights to catch. Cassidy watched Brenda hug Alex again, putting her hand to his cheek like he was her son. Alex smiled at her all bashful, then nudged Miguel into the picture, grinning when Miguel gave Brenda a solemn nod and a kiss on the cheek. The three of them were speaking in low tones, but Cassidy caught the words “your mother” and “Thanksgiving.” She added a reminder to Irena’s calendar to prep a few press statements the second week of November, just in case.
