Faceoff, page 3
“You mean go without sex for however long this lasts?” I shook my head.
“You’re a strong guy. You can handle no sex for a few months.”
“A few months?”
“What do you consider a few?”
“However long it takes.”
“Not happening.” I loved sex almost as much as I loved hockey.
“Consider celibacy as part of your personal growth.” George chortled with laughter, but I saw nothing funny about being celibate. My poor dick would shrivel up and fall off from neglect if I didn’t keep up my sex regimen. I was in excellent physical shape, but my dick got such a workout it was in better shape than any other body part. I opened my mouth to turn down the offer, but a vision of a sneering Staples offering me a handout swam in front of my eyes.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” All the while, my brain churned through options to get beyond the no-sex part.
The two men nodded and exchanged glances. I regarded them with suspicion.
“I sense there’s more.”
George’s expression was grim, and I held my breath. “We’ll have to cut back considerably on your expenses to get you out of this mess, even with the added income. All the hangers-on have to go, Gage.”
“But my mom needs a place to live, and she can’t work.”
Al’s brows crept past his hairline, but he didn’t say what I knew he was thinking. My mom didn’t want to work when she had me to pay her way. They didn’t understand. I owed her.
“And your grandmother can find a cheaper retirement option.”
“But she loves the place she’s in.”
“A luxury retirement community costing five figures a month. Sorry, you can’t afford that.”
“But—”
“No buts, maybe your mom and grandmother can live together,” Al suggested with a wicked grin.
“Not happening,” I said.
“We’re getting you out of this situation, not digging you in deeper.”
George pushed a spreadsheet across the table to me. “Here are your current expenses, and here are your pared-down expenses.”
The numbers swam in front of my face. How would I explain to my family members I was cutting back on expenses and even cutting some of them off? This wouldn’t go over well.
I lifted my head to argue, but the determination on Al’s and George’s faces warned me there’d be no arguing. I’d hit rock bottom, and there wasn’t any lower I’d be able to go financially.
I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“Furthermore, now is your chance. Make that audience fall in love with you. You’re going to become every guy’s best buddy and every female’s perfect boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” I corrected with a smug grin. Al didn’t like being corrected and frowned at me. I grinned happily back.
“Whatever. You’re going to play the part of the guy Darcy deserves.”
“Play? Isn’t this reality TV?”
“There’s nothing real about it. It’s all scripting and drama. The more the better.”
“We’re changing your image, working on increasing your brand visibility and viability as a product sponsor.”
“Huh?”
“I want to get more promo opps for you, which translates to more cash in your pocket. Right now, your rep is shot, and no one is making any offers.”
I hung my head slightly. I’d done this to myself. I’d been a promising young guy who’d been touted as the next coming of the Great One during my rookie year. I played with the same reckless enthusiasm as I partied, never slowing down once. But over the next couple years, the sleepless nights and countless parties had begun to take their toll. Not to mention my financial woes, which had started before I got my first big paycheck.
“Okay, you’ll need to clear this with the team.”
Al nodded, but I didn’t have a good feeling about how or what he’d clear with the team.
“And this will get me out of debt?” I swung my gaze to George.
“It should, as long as you don’t go overboard on shit and we pick up some endorsements.”
“Fine, I have some requirements of my own. I want a condo in the same building as I’ve been living. I want a bar tab at the Place, and I want a new car.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Al studied me shrewdly. “That’s all?”
“I want a signing bonus of ten K for me to use as I please.”
“This isn’t hockey. We don’t do signing bonuses.”
“Now you do. The way I see it, you’re getting off cheap.”
“Fine, is that all?”
“Yeah, that’ll do it.” I smirked, feeling awfully damn good about myself.
“Good, I’ll let my daughter know first thing tomorrow we have a deal. They’ll want to start filming clips with you shortly. Probably within a few days.”
“And the team?”
“I’ll take care of the team.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Al laughed, and his laughter didn’t assuage my concerns.
Chapter Three
New Boyfriend
~~Darcy~~
“Gage Ziegler? The hockey player is my new boyfriend?” I gaped in openmouthed shock at my producer. I didn’t know much about Gage, but his reputation as a ladies’ man and partier till he dropped preceded him. I’d met him once, and he’d been drunk at the time. Not impressed.
“And soon-to-be fiancé. You can thank me now.” Sondra was way too pleased with herself.
“I don’t think we’ll be a good match. Anyone but him.”
Sondra shook her head. “He’s perfect. No one else will do. Sex appeal drips from every pore in that man’s body.”
“He agreed to it? No way would he agree to your proposal.”
“Our proposal, and for your information, yes, he did.”
“Damn.” I sank into one of the plush chairs in Sondra’s office looking out at the Hollywood sign on Mt. Lee.
Sondra frowned, genuinely perplexed at my reaction. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I am.” I sniffled. I’d sold my soul to the very devil. It was hard to be happy about that. My livelihood hinged on this preposterous plan concocted by my producer and her father.
“Okay, then, after some haggling, he agreed to our terms, though he did take exception to one thing.”
“What one thing?” I asked warily. Gage “Ziggy” Ziegler, as the partying playboy of professional hockey, one of those eternal frat-boy types who never grew up.
“No sex with other women while you two are supposed to be engaged.”
“I don’t care what he does with other women as long as it doesn’t end up in the tabloids.”
“I do, because he won’t be able to keep it on the down low. Someone will talk.”
“I’m not having sex with him.”
“I didn’t ask you to. You go into this as shallow or deep as you wish. What you do off camera is none of my business.”
“Nothing will happen off camera. I can’t stand his type. He’s a shallow party boy with a dick for brains.”
Sondra cackled. “He is all that, but the eye candy…” She fanned her face, and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t like conceited, entitled jock types such as Gage Ziegler, but in order to save the show and my bank account, I didn’t have a choice. I’d done what was necessary to rise above my foster-child roots, and I wouldn’t backslide now, even if it meant pretending to be in love with that teenage boy in a man’s body. I’d endured two failures on Looking for Love and way too much pity for one woman. No one would ever feel sorry for the poor motherless little girl again. No one. I wouldn’t let this show go down without a fight.
“Of course, we’ll be moving the show to Seattle.” Sondra added her next bombshell to the scarred battlefield of my reality-show career.
“Seattle?” Moving to Seattle hadn’t occurred to me, but of course, the move made sense. I opened my mouth to argue but recognized the futility of any attempt to dissuade Sondra from her mission.
“I’ve already lined up a few designers who’ll be good sparring partners and others who’re more than happy to do the designs as long as their name’s on the credits.”
“About that…”
She frowned at me, already knowing what was coming. “Darcy, we’ve had this conversation.”
“I’ve been working on some new designs, and I really think my stuff is up to par with all the others. I want a shot.”
Sondra shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we’re sticking with the plan. Darcy, you don’t need to do the designs. We have people for that. Concentrate on being the star of the show.”
I heard what she was saying. I wasn’t good enough. In her eyes, I’d never be good enough. Her lack of faith eroded my confidence until I doubted my own ability to make money without cashing in on my two-time loser status. Over the past two years, she’d morphed the show into more drama and less design. I didn’t agree with our direction, but I didn’t have the guts to stand up to her, either.
The whole thing was really quite sad, but I was a survivor, and I did what I needed to do. Spending the majority of my school years in foster homes taught me to be resilient. When life knocked me down, I brushed myself off and carried on. Or I tried to.
I left the meeting feeling oddly sad, even though my fake relationship would most likely serve its purpose and reinvigorate the show.
I’d never wanted to be an actor. I’d wanted to be a designer. So far, I hadn’t designed anything since I’d left the LA design firm to do the first Looking for Love show. And my acting career was on rockier ground than ever.
I’d been dumb and naive back then. I’d been new to the firm and thought the exposure on the show would be good for business. It’d been anything but when I’d found myself falling for the first and then second guy and always being the bridesmaid rather than the bride. The second time they’d invited me back, the poor-little-girl role was increased in intensity.
Now I was floundering and had nowhere else to turn. I was yesterday’s news, and without doing something desperate to turn the show around, we’d never make it into the next season.
I wondered if Gage was any more thrilled about this fake relationship than I was. No one had explained his reasons for accepting the offer. None of my business anyway, and I didn’t plan on making anything to do with him my business. It’d take every ounce of my feeble acting skills to convince the world I actually liked this guy, let alone loved him.
One more season and then what? Did I dare pursue a design career if they cancelled the show? Seattle was booming with tech money. With that income came people looking for someone to do the design dirty work for their new waterfront condos or trendy uptown retro apartments.
How would I ever establish myself as a designer and build a real business? Fat chance of that happening when Sondra wouldn’t let me showcase my own work, and accepting a job because a client liked what I’d done when I hadn’t actually done it made me feel like a fraud.
Reality shows had a shelf life. We’d managed to do CPR on this show for one more season, but after that?
I headed home feeling conflicted in too many ways to count.
I let myself into the modest apartment I shared with the show’s makeup artist and jack-of-all-trades, Mila Debois. I’d met her during my first stint on Looking for Love. When I was offered my own show by Sondra, Mila had come with me.
“Hey, Mi, you home?” I shouted.
“I’m here. How’d it go?” Mila strode out of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes and squinting at me. Her black hair was a wild array of curls floating around her head like a halo. She was the only woman I knew who looked like a trillion bucks without trying. Right now she was in lounging gear. Mila was stunning in old jeans and a ratty T-shirt, with her lithe model’s body and perfect face, though she’d never been interested in modeling.
“How about a glass of wine while I tell you everything.”
“Now you’re talking.” She poured two glasses, and we settled on the couch.
“Do we still have a job? I gotta pay for my habit somehow.” Mila’s habit happened to be obsessive online shopping. The spare bedroom in our apartment was filled with stuff she’d probably never use. Her Chihuahua, Pickles, jumped on her lap and settled in.
“Yes, we do, and I have a fiancé.”
“He went for it?”
“He sure did. Was there ever any doubt? The guy is an attention slut. He would’ve done it for free, but rumor is he needs the money.”
“He needs the money? Don’t those guys make millions?”
“That’s what I thought.”
Mila was already Googling how much Gage made. She held her phone up for me to see the seven figures a year. “He must have some serious spending habits.”
“He parties—a lot. In the off-season, his picture is everywhere, all over the world, with the rich and bountiful.”
“And now he’s your fiancé.” Mila snorted with laughter.
“Fake boyfriend,” I corrected.
“And future fake fiancé.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. How did I get myself into these messes? I was unlucky in love even though I fell in love at the drop of a hat, but not this time. He might be sex on a stick, but jocks weren’t my thing. I was pretty sure my girl-next-door persona didn’t fit with his lifestyle either. I was a homebody. He was anything but.
None of that mattered. This was fake, I reminded myself. At least I knew that going in, unlike my two disastrous appearances on Looking for Love.
I’d been gutted so many times by guys that I’d begun to doubt my ability to judge a man’s true character. At least with Gage I knew what I was getting. He was a happy-go-lucky party boy, whose only serious moments were on the ice. I could do worse.
“At least he’s hot.” Enough moping. I was doing this, might as well enjoy the view.
“Very hot. Like smokin’ southern BBQ hot.”
“Uh-huh.” I was from Portland, Oregon. I didn’t know anything about southern BBQs, but I got the picture. Actually, Mila was from Sacramento even though she often adopted a southern drawl for the hell of it.
“Are you guys going to live together?” She arched a brow and shot me an evil grin.
“Good lord, no. You and I will share an apartment. Sondra’s handling the arrangements.”
“And you trust her? How many times does she have to burn you?”
“She’s never burned me,” I argued. Mila gave me that look. “Well, not me specifically. She does what’s good for the show.”
“Really? Like stringing you along on Looking for Love when she knew all along the bachelor wasn’t really into you?”
“Yeah, like that.”
“And not letting you use your own designs?”
“But she’s all about success.”
“What about your success?” Mila wasn’t a fan of Sondra, and she had my back, but she’d been around the block a time or two and knew how to play the game.
“I’m doing okay. I’ve been saving for the inevitable.”
“That’s what you’ve been saying. Have you considered ending things on your own terms? I’ve seen your current designs. They’re good. Really good. I wouldn’t bullshit you. Acting is not your first love.”
“It pays the bills.”
“Take a risk, Darcy. Make this your last year. Follow your heart.”
I shook my head, refusing to see the truth in her words. “We’ll get good mileage out of this fake relationship, and it’ll carry the show until Sondra comes up with a new plan.”
“Do you see yourself continuing down this road indefinitely?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. The thought of going into business for myself paralyzes me. I don’t want to be homeless and hungry again. I need more financial security.”
“You’ll never have enough to satisfy your insecurities.”
I shrugged, knowing in my heart she was right, and I’d keep selling my soul until it wasn’t worth the price I was asking anymore.
Chapter Four
The Great Deception
~~Gage~~
The next evening, the Sockeyes played in their first game of the new year. I skated like a new man, or like the man I had been my rookie year. I fought for the puck at the boards with relentless purpose. I scored twice, and my other shots barely missed the target. I skated aggressively with boundless energy and endless stamina. The team fed off my energy, and we won four to two. Great way to start the new year.
I was on fire. After the game, the coach awarded me the Sockeye Salmon for the best player of the game. I’d won it a few times my rookie year but never since.
I beamed from ear to ear, graciously accepting my teammates’ praise, preening under the attention of the press, and ready to party one last time before I was forced to play the doting boyfriend. I’d signed the contract this morning, and I’d be doing a cameo with Darcy in the next day or so. The producer had been a little evasive on when we’d start, but I didn’t care. Once I’d adjusted to the idea, I looked forward to getting my face out there, playing the reformed bad boy to her good girl, and being showered with the attention I craved.
Ice approached me with a puzzled expression on his face. Isaac “Ice” Wolfe was our team captain and the best defenseman in the league. He’d already congratulated me on a good game, and since he was a man of few words, I watched warily as he stopped in front of my locker.
“Some people are waiting in the hallway for you.”
“Oh, really?” I perked up. “Is it more press?”
He shrugged. “They have cameras.”
“Cool.” I dressed quickly and bounded to my feet, more than happy to listen to them singing my praises while I humbly accepted their acknowledgments of my greatness. I paused to check my hair in the mirror. Satisfied my dark hair had that sexy messy look women loved, I sauntered out the door, ready to look surprised at whatever came my way.
