CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Locke
With the Shred Like a Girl campaign in the record books, it was time to start looking for prospects for the Hang Like a Girl ads. We had a few ideas lined up, aerial artists from all over the country, but now I needed to go through and narrow down the best ones. Laura had been begging me to take a look for a week, and I’d been putting it off. So the morning after the accident, I set up shop in Emma’s apartment, trying to page through their bios from there as she rested.
It wasn’t easy though.
My email was on fire. Every time I answered one, another came in. They all revolved around the incident at Pocono.
You sly dog! Are you tapping that? An old friend from college had written.
One of my female clients, who’d always had a thing for me, had sent, Don’t tell me you’re off the market! I might die!
Our in-house counsel wrote, I must warn you that this kind of behavior isn’t advisable.
My voice mail was full of calls from reporters. I didn’t know how they got my private cell number, but somehow, they had. I deleted the messages, one by one, shooting off emails to a few people, making a half-hearted attempt to do damage control.
But if there was damage, it wasn’t to what I felt for Emma. Even if my company dissolved to shit, and everything else fell apart… I had Emma. That was most important. And what the hell did it matter what Emma and I did in our private lives? So what if I was her sponsor and just happened to be in love with her. I should’ve been able to shout it from the rooftops. It was none of their damn business.
I got a text from Laura an hour later, as I was still trying to make it through the first line of a bio from an aerial artist who lived in Minneapolis. Wow, this has media circus written all over it.
I texted back. We are both consenting adults. It’s not that bad.
A second later. Tell that to the twenty reporters I just talked to. You two are front-page news.
I laughed bitterly at the ridiculousness of it all. It was a fucking kiss. I hadn’t stripped her naked and made love to her right there. Must have been a slow news day, if a fucking kiss was front-page news.
Then I thought of what Emma had said. This wasn’t hitting me nearly as bad as it was hitting her. In this fucked up world, I was the conqueror, the hero. But Emma had been reduced to an opportunistic slut. That was the damage I had to repair.
My thumbs flew over the screen. All right, what should we do?
Press conference, stat, came back her answer. Where are you?
Emma’s.
Please tell me there are no reporters parked outside.
I didn’t even stand up to check. No clue. Not when we came in last night, at least.
Are you decent?
I rolled my eyes and typed. Funny.
Hold tight. Joe and I will be right over.
Right.
It was probably a good idea to have a damage control powwow with Laura and Joe, our PR guy extraordinaire, before this got any more out of control. I threw my phone down and stretched, then went to check on Emma. She was beaten, that was for sure, because it was ten and she was still dreaming away, looking angelic in her sleep. I smiled at her and went out to the balcony for some air.
It was hot, with not a sea breeze to be found. The ocean was a thin line of turquoise blue in the distance. In another week, Emma was to compete in another race in Bristol, but I’d already called to say that wasn’t happening. Her future schedule was on the back burner until she felt strong enough to get back into it. I thought of the crash and wondered if I’d ever be strong enough to last through another crash like that. I hoped I wouldn’t have to.
I answered the door when they knocked and led them into Emma’s unlived-in living room. Laura came in and looked around. “Her father went to pick up her mother at the airport. They should be here in another hour or so. How is she?”
“Fine. Beat up. Still sleeping.”
We sat down on the cream-colored sofas, and I put my feet up on the glass coffee table. Joe, a former Olympian in halfpipe skiing, used to look at me with admiration. Hell, he’d even told me I was his idol when he’d started his job. Now he looked at me like I was some kind of moron. As a public relations man, he was used to putting out fires, but probably nothing as scandalous as this damn kissed that had purportedly rocked the NASCAR world to its core.
“Hey,” I said in response to his reproachful look. “There’s no such thing as bad publicity.”
“That remains to be seen,” he said, running his hands through his crazy brown hair before pulling his laptop from his bag. He sat down and opened it. “Okay, so, I’ve gotten the press release drafted. Want me to give it a read? See how it feels to you?”
Laura nodded.
He cleared his throat. “Locke Cage, owner of Uncaged Fitness, responded today to rumors of a possible relationship with his sponsored race car driver, Emma James. After James was involved in a harrowing crash at the Pocono Raceway during the Pocono 400, cameras recorded Cage coming to the aid of James and kissing her passionately at the crash site.”
With that, he looked at me pointedly, as if he expected me to explain myself.
“Nix kissing passionately,” Laura demanded. “Change to, embracing with obvious concern for her welfare.”
I looked at Laura, astonished. So rather than tell the truth, it was better if we fabricated things? When had she become so tainted to think that lying was better than being straight with people? “What? Anyone with eyes could see that was a lie. We kissed. With tongue. For like, ten minutes.”
She scowled at me. “I don’t know that it’s a lie. The camera was far away. There were lots of people around, in the way. It could’ve been an embrace.”
All right, fuck it. Whatever.
“Go on,” I barked.
He looked back at the paper. “Well, this is where we’d add a quote from you, Mr. Cage. I put in, ‘Miss James and I are friends, and I am emotionally invested in the welfare of all my properties. I was merely beside myself with worry after the accident, concerned for her wellbeing. When she opened her eyes, I was overcome with emotion, which I may have expressed inappropriately. My actions were unwarranted, completely unprovoked by Miss James, and I would like to express my sincere apologies to Miss James and her family.”
I stared at Joe, horrified. “What? No. Inappropriate? I didn’t molest her. That makes it seem like I was copping feels. She kissed me back.”
Laura shook her head. “That’s not going to fly though. There is no relationship, remember.”
I let out a huff of air. “But there is one. There’s nothing inappropriate about my response, considering I—”
“Locke,” Laura cut in. “Don’t. I’m sure you’ve already gotten a talking-to from our attorneys. And as an attorney myself, I happen to concur. This angle is the best for all involved.”
“But I—”
“You’re thinking with the wrong head,” she said, looking at Joe. “Go with it. Get it released to all the outlets, now. Set the press conference up for three.”
He nodded and started to get to work as I motioned Laura toward me. We walked out into the hallway, and I leaned against the wall. “Who’s going to believe that? It’s clear I kissed her. And she kissed me back.”
“It doesn’t matter, Locke.”
“So you’re saying I have to continue to lie about us.”
She nodded. “You are friends. Focus on that because it’s the truth. Do you know what kind of legal trouble we could be in if you go around telling the world you’re boinking her? Notwithstanding the fact that she’s already getting backlash from people thinking she slept her way into this sponsorship deal. Do you really think that’s fair to her? If we don’t do this, it’ll only get worse. She’ll never be seen as a serious competitor. And isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what she wants?”
I thought of everything Emma had said last night. She’d been so livid of the news coverage focusing on her as a bit of fluff among the serious contenders. Yes, that was all she wanted — to be seen as one of them. It was my fault they’d ignored the crash and the fact that she’d been racing so well up until then. I’d deprived her of that opportunity.
And damned if it didn’t make me feel like total, absolute shit.
“All right,” I said finally. “Fine.”
“To be honest, it would be better if this wasn’t a lie,” she added. “If you were smart, you’d consider that.”
I studied her. She couldn’t be suggesting…
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you should end things with her. Now. Before this gets any worse. And I promise you, Locke. It will get worse. Especially if they find out you two have been sneaking around despite your statement saying you’re just friends. Now you guys are the biggest mystery on the face of the Earth, and reporters will just be dying for the chance to prove this statement wrong.” She threw up her hands. “Is she really worth it? You’ve never cared so much about any woman before.”
That’s because Emma is different. She was worth it. I didn’t care what would happen to me, though. It was her I was worried about. “All right. Fine. It’s over.”
“No,” she corrected, giving me a hard look. “It never began.”
I nodded, feeling numb, lifeless. “Right. It never began.”
“And you’ll be prepared to make a statement to that effect today at three?”
I nodded, as much as I didn’t want to. I didn’t care so much that it made me look like a total pervert who’d taken advantage of my property. Yes, that sucked, but worse was the fact that I was sick of hiding. I thought the one good thing that would come out of this was that we’d be able to put ourselves out in the open. But my hands were tied by the love and respect I had for Emma as a woman and an athlete. My sister was right. I couldn’t be responsible for stripping Emma from her dream.
“Good.”
When I looked at her next, she was studying me closely. I’d had a shower but hadn’t shaved, and my eyes were bloodshot from the late night. I was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, the ones I’d been wearing at the raceway, since I hadn’t stopped back at my apartment, and they were rumpled. I knew I looked like shit. She touched my arm and I flinched, even though I saw sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Locke. I know it’s not what you want to do.”
I huffed out a laugh and didn’t meet her eyes. I kept staring at a blank spot on the wall, thinking of how shitty and self-absorbed I’d been. I needed to think of Emma now.
“No. It’s fine. You’re right.” I swallowed back the bile in my throat. “I don’t want Emma there though. She’s been through enough. This shitstorm was my doing, and I should face it alone.”
She nodded, giving me a pat on the arm. Then she and Joe packed up their belongings and left.
With a heart that felt like it was a frozen block of ice in my chest, I went in to check on Emma. She was still sleeping in the same position I’d last seen her. I stared at her beautiful face.
I’m sorry that I have to do this, but it’ll be better for you this way.
The doorbell rang. I knew it was her parents even before I answered. Mr. James was probably the jolliest man I’d ever seen. Fat and happy, like Santa Claus without the beard. He’d always had a joke for me, and I could tell Emma adored him.
I didn’t have to worry whether they’d seen the news reports. He was frowning at me like I’d done him wrong. Like I’d defiled his little girl. Maybe he’d already read the release and thought I was a perverted opportunist who’d sexually harassed his daughter.
He moved past me, into the apartment, and dropped his wife’s suitcase on the floor. If he was impressed by her apartment, he didn’t show it.
Mrs. James was wringing her hands. “Where is she?”
“She’s sleeping,” I said, pointing the way to the bedroom as I gathered my things into my bag. “She seems all right. She should take some more codeine, though, if she has any pain.”
They just stared at me, like I was an unwelcome visitor.
“I suppose I’ll be off,” I said, heading for the door. I could feel the weight of their eyes heavy on me, and I knew I couldn’t leave it like this. I turned to them. “I’m sure you saw the news reports, and I wanted to apologize for my response to the accident yesterday. I’m sure it was embarrassing to her, and to you, and it wasn’t what I intended.”
Mr. James stared at me. “All right.”
“I was just… very worried for her,” I continued, coughing to clear the emotion from my throat. “Anyway, if I’d had the foresight to know how the media would take it, I obviously wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have done anything to intentionally harm her.”
He nodded slightly, but he didn’t give away any of what he might have been thinking. This was a side of Mr. James that all of Emma’s stories about him, stories that painted him as a big teddy bear, hadn’t revealed. The silence stretched on, and I knew I’d overstayed my welcome.
“Well, have a good day,” I finally said.
I inhaled hard when I was outside in the hallway. I could almost feel the chill of their hate on my back as I left. Holy shit, how had one kiss made me Public Enemy Number One, and totally destroyed the only chance I had of being with the one person who made me truly happy?
***
I stopped at my apartment to shower and change, then went to my office, meanwhile sorting through the breaking news surrounding the Emma James story. The press release’s false quote from me had quickly begun to filter through the news outlets. I read it over and over again, feeling like a traitor to myself. To Emma.
I went into the bathroom to freshen up before the conference, all the while feeling sad and sick. My reflection in the mirror was sallow, my face drawn, eyes bloodshot. Despite the shower and new clothes, I still looked like I’d been through a war. How much longer would we have to go on like this? Forever? If it went on much longer, it would probably tear us apart.
At fifteen till three, I got a text from Laura. Are you on your way? It’s standing room only here.
I texted back that I was coming right down, grabbed my phone and started to head downstairs.
But before I could make it out of the door, I saw Emma in the hallway, coming toward me. I blinked, wondering if I was just seeing things. She was limping cautiously, favoring one leg. Shit. I hadn’t wanted her here. I hadn’t wanted her to be subjected to any media firestorm.
“What are you doing here?” I asked her, pulling her to my chest, then picking her up to carry her to my office.
“What are you doing?” She frowned when I put her down. She was holding up her phone. “I read the latest news story. You behaved inappropriately? Really?”
“I know. I know. But this is the way it has to be, and if you want them to take you seriously, I need to do this.”
She gave me the most disappointed of glares. “That sounds to me like a cop-out, you know that, Cage?”
I let out a breath of air, indignant. I shook my head at her. “It’s not what I want. Believe me, it’s not. I’m sorry, Emma, this world sucks, but you can’t have it both ways.”
She crossed her arms. “Why? Why not? I don’t really give a crap what they think.”
“That’s not true. If you hadn’t cared, you wouldn’t have gone off on them during the last press conference. You wouldn’t have gotten all red in the face when you saw the coverage last night.”
Her brow wrinkled. “That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with us. What’s wrong is with them.”
I had no doubt she’d go in front of them all and give them a piece of mind like she’d done before. But where would that get her? Last time, it had only made the media storm worse. “You can’t tell them that. Remember the last press conference?”
She looked at her feet. When she looked up again, there was rage in her eyes. “Do you want me?”
It wasn’t that easy to answer. Right now, it didn’t matter what I wanted.
I stared at her a beat too long. “It’s a simple question, Locke. Do you, or do you not?”
“Yes, but—”
“No. Not ‘yes, but.’ Yes, the end.” She shook her head, wincing as the movement gave her pain. “That should be all that matters. But it doesn’t to you, does it? Admit it. You’re worried about your company. You don’t want anything to get in the way of you making your billions, is that it?”
Now I was more enraged than sad. Yes, once upon a time, my company had been my baby. But when she entered the picture, that all went to hell. She was the reason I begged out on meetings to be with her. She was the reason I’d made this sponsorship the most important one of all our properties. She came first.
I could feel the heat rushing to my face, which wouldn’t look good at the press conference. “That’s not it. I don’t want you to end a career that you obviously love, and you’re fucking good at, because of this media bullshit.”
“Right. And it doesn’t hurt that the further I go, the more money you make.”
I threw up my hands. “Is that what you think? You don’t know me at all, do you?” I seethed, tearing open the door. “I’m going down there right now. And I’m going to make sure you still have the career you love after this, no matter what damage it does to my reputation. I don’t want your gratitude. I just fucking want you to be able to get back on that oval, so that one of these days, you can win a Cup race, and get your due. That’s all.”
I stormed down the hallway, toward the stairs.
Before heading down, I turned back to her. She was still standing there, motionless and speechless in my wake. I couldn’t believe it. For the first time, her little smart mouth was hanging open.
“Go back to your apartment and rest, Emma,” I said softly. “Go the back way, so you won’t let the reporters see you, or else they’ll be all over you. Or just stay here and I’ll get you back later. You look so pale.”
I’d done hard things in my life. I’d started telling my mother no, that I didn’t want a second serving. I’d forced myself to run until I threw up. I’d started a business. I’d made that business successful beyond my dreams. But I’d never done anything as hard as this…
I turned and walked away without a response.
When I got downstairs to the conference room, the place was swarming with reporters. It was beyond standing room only; reporters were packed in like sardines. I’d never seen it this crowded, even for the first Drive Like a Girl conference months before. It was sad that sex sold so well, and that a simple kiss had brought out more reporters than an athlete who’d trained her entire life to do what no one in this entire room could.
I skulked behind the podium with my head down, as one of the reporters whistled at me. “Nice going, Locke. I wouldn’t be able to resist tapping that either.”
I snapped my head to him and scowled. I felt my fist tighten into a punch I wanted to throw.
I forced myself to loosen it. It would only make things much, much worse.
Laura came up behind me. “Hello, Looks-Like-Shit,” she quipped, straightening my tie and studying my face. “Did you take a shower?”
I had. I’d also shaved. I even put on a new suit. I did not look like shit. Maybe she was talking about the vibes I was giving off, the dread that came from admitting to the world that I’d made unwanted sexual advances on a woman under my authority. The woman I was also fucking in love with, and who loved me too.
How had that become wrong?
I nudged her away. “I’m good. We starting now?”
She checked the time on her phone. “Yeah. You can begin whenever you want. Statement’s on the podium.”
“Thanks.”
I walked up to the podium as if approaching the firing squad. There was the typical glass and pitcher of water. I filled a glass, downed it, and filled another, not caring what this made me look like to the press. I felt guilty.
Didn’t Emma and I want the same things? Since when had lifting Emma’s career meant that I was betraying myself?
“Good afternoon,” I said into the microphone. It crackled with static. Obviously, the issues we’d been having with it earlier hadn’t been fully resolved. Or maybe that was just my voice cracking.
Eventually, the chatter and noise quieted down, and too many sets of eyes focused on me.
Gripping the edges of the podium in my sweaty hands, I looked down at the statement that Laura had left for me. It was basically the same thing as I’d been quoted saying on the press release.
Yesterday, after she was involved in a harrowing crash at the Pocono 400, I was seen embracing Ms. Emma James, the race car driver who is the face of UnCaged Fitness’s Drive Like a Girl campaign, which caused some undue speculation that the two of us may have been involved in a romantic relationship. I am here to say that Miss James and I are friends. I am emotionally invested in the welfare of all my properties. I was merely beside myself with worry after the accident, concerned for her wellbeing. When she opened her eyes, I was overcome with emotion, which I may have expressed inappropriately. My actions were unwarranted, completely unprovoked by Miss James, and I would like to express my sincere apologies to Miss James and her family.
Bull. Shit.
Yes, I’d been overcome with emotion. Yes, we were friends. The rest of it was pure fabrication.
And yet as I opened my mouth to say the first words, I knew that once I said them, Emma and I would be over.
Forget about the fact that I’d have one mark on my record as a sexual harasser. Forget about the fact that Emma would think I was a filthy liar. Even if she forgave me for that, we couldn’t continue to sneak around after this. If anyone found out the truth after this statement, we’d never survive the resulting firestorm. Once these words were out, I’d never hold her, kiss her, or make love to her again.
I wouldn’t even be able to look at her the wrong way without trouble.
But she would have her career. And I had no doubt that with the sponsorship of UnCaged, she’d kill it.
I thought back to the day we met. What had she said she wanted? To go as far as I can.
Swallowing the bile in my throat, I knew this was the way to get her there.
“Yesterday, after she was involved in a harrowing crash at the Pocono 400,” I began, “I was seen embracing Ms. Emma James, the race car driver who is the face of UnCaged Fitness’s Drive Like a Girl Campaign.”
At that moment, I flashed back to what she had said before, right in this very room, as I stroked her knee to keep her nerves at bay. I’m big on honesty.
I couldn’t do this.
If I lied, I wouldn’t just be selling out myself. I’d be disappointing her too.
Maybe there was another way.
I cleared my throat, adjusted the microphone, and looked out to the sea of reporters.
“But that isn’t what this press conference should be about. Instead, we should be looking at Miss James’ racing statistics thus far. In only a dozen races in the Cup series, she’s finished ahead of all other female drivers that have ever raced. In fact, at the Pocono 400, until her untimely accident, she was in third, better than any female racer has ever gone on that track. Emma James is not just a phenomenal woman athlete, she’s a phenomenal athlete, period. So instead of talking about a kiss, maybe we should be talking about her racing career.”
Someone in the front row asked, “The press release said that you and Miss James are just friends. Does that mean you’re not in a relationship with her?”
I stared at him, my face heating. What had I just said? It was like I was speaking a different language. I felt my temperature rising.
I looked to the side, laughing a little, about to give him a piece of my mind, when I saw Emma standing in the doorway, looking shy and uncharacteristically fragile.
But the second I noticed her, all of the reporters did too. They all swung their cameras toward her, and their flashes started going crazy.
She took a tentative step toward me. I took one toward her, and then she slowly bridged the distance. “You know you can’t win with them,” she said to me in a low whisper.
“Why are you here?” I said to her, noting that she looked a little woozy. “You need to—”
“Not without telling you this first,” she said in a rush. “Listen.”
She wavered on her feet. I wrapped my hands around her arms, holding her up.
“When I told you what was on my bucket list, what I wanted most at that time was to win a Monster Energy Cup race,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “But that’s changed, Locke. Back then, I didn’t know this…” she waved her hand between the two of us, “was even possible. Back then, I didn’t know I could be this happy. I didn’t know how loving a man felt.” She took in a deep breath, wincing as it hurt her bruised ribs. “If they’d rather focus on my tits or our kiss than my racing abilities, I say we let them. I’d walk away from it all in a second. I don’t care about any of that. Sure, I love racing, but I love you more.”
I let out a breath of air, trying to see if she really meant it. Her face was completely serious. “Are you sure? Even if—”
“Even if I never get to race another day in my life, Locke,” she said, a single tear sliding down her face. “You come first. Do you get it? You come first.”
At that moment, I did the only thing I could do. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her, long and hard, lifting her slight body off the ground as I held her. She responded in kind, wrapping her arms around me, even though I knew the movement cost her.
Yes, I was overcome with emotion. But no, this was not just an embrace. This was the truth. I loved this woman, and this woman loved me.
And what did they do, the assholes who cared more about kissing than they did about the actual race? They burst into the loudest applause that conference room had ever seen.
When I was done, and the applause had died down, I held her to my side and addressed the reporter directly. “Obviously,” I said, a laugh in my voice, “Emma and I are more than friends. I am in a relationship with Emma James, and all I can say is, I’m ecstatic about it and have never been happier.”
Flashes went off like crazy, murmurs spreading throughout the crowd. Laura, off to the side, threw up her hands, turned away, and then walked back to face me. When she did, she was smiling. Fine, have it your way, she mouthed.
I continued. “You know… Emma James may be a woman. But what UnCaged Fitness is about is that we’re not caged into any one role. She may be my lover, and yes, my love.” I squeezed her hand. “But she’s also an incredible driver who deserves as much respect and admiration as you give to male drivers. If the fact that she’s a woman or that I love her has reduced what an accomplished athlete is in your eyes, then what can I say? You don’t deserve to be reporting on this.”
My hand in hers, I turned to leave the podium, smiling at Emma, who hesitated as though she had something more to add. I moved aside and adjusted the microphone for her so that she could have her chance to speak.
She leaned forward and said simply, “I love Locke Cage.” She smiled back at me and then added, “Now that that’s out of the way, do you have any questions?”
The crowd erupted with noise. I called on the first person in the row, who said, “You were on a tear in the Poconos until the crash. Do you expect to come in first on your next race?”
She laughed and nodded. “Oh, hell, yeah. That checkered flag is mine.”
And I had to laugh too.