The Game Changer

Game Changer



Cassie



I sat on the floor staring at my cell phone as Melissa practically danced around me. “What the hell is going on?” I pulled up the photograph of Matteo kissing me on my phone and held it up to her face. “Oh shit. When the hell did he kiss you?”



“The night he drove me to the airport.” I shook my head, wondering how I was going to fix this.



“Why didn’t you tell me?”



“I forgot,” I admitted.



“You forgot?” she asked incredulously.



“I was so caught up in everything else that I completely blocked it out. It wasn’t important. I shoved him off me and told him I loved Jack. End of story.”



“End of story?” She shook her head, her fingers tapping along the base of her hip. “Shit, Cassie. This is bad.”



I glanced up at her. “I know.”



“How pissed is Jack?



“Pretty pissed. But he’s mad about other stuff too. He basically said that we’re supposed to be a team, but I’m not being a team player.”



“You have to fix this,” Melissa demanded, as if telling me something I didn’t already know.



“I’m aware. Get this.” I paused to look her straight in the eyes. “He told me to prove it.”



A sharp laugh ripped out of Melissa’s mouth before she tossed her hand in front of it. “Sorry,” she mumbled from behind her hand. “But that’s some ironic shit, right there.”



“Tell me about it.” I rolled my eyes.



Melissa sat down next to me on the floor, our legs pressing together. “First things first, you have to fire Matteo. I mean, you should do it so Jack knows you’re serious.”



“I’m pretty sure Jack fired him the minute he hung up on me. But if he didn’t, I will.” I leaned my head against the wall. “Do you think I should call Matteo and make him go over there? He needs to tell Jack that I didn’t do anything. He created this mess!”



Melissa shook her head, “I don’t know. Jack might turn it all around on you and get pissed that you reached out to the guy. Plus, I wouldn’t really send Matteo over to talk to Jack right now. Unless you want to go his funeral later.”



I sighed, my fingers shaking as I reached for my phone to type out a text message.



You have to tell Jack I didn’t do anything. You have to fix this.



“Who are you texting? Matteo?” She cocked her head to the side, her lips pursed together in a disapproving gesture. “Do you not listen to a word I say?”



I shrugged as my phone beeped.



Already got it covered. I’m so sorry.



“Well,” she tapped her finger against her hand impatiently, “what’d he say?”



I moved the screen of my cell in her direction and waited for her to read his brief response. There was nothing more I wanted to say to Matteo, so I placed my phone on the floor.



“I hope you enjoyed knowing the guy.”



“This sucks. And all of it could have been avoided if I’d just stayed put and actually talked to Jack instead of running away.”



“Don’t beat yourself up, Cass. You needed to get out of that scene. It took you all of two seconds of being away from Jack to realize you couldn’t live without him.”



“Do you think this picture’s in the tabloids already?”



“Absolutely.”



“Fuck.”



“So we have Chrystle’s crazy allegations,” she held up one finger, “and a picture of you and Matteo kissing,” a second finger joined the first, “and photos of you leaving the apartment with a suitcase when Jack has games at home.”



“Looks bad, right?”



She twisted her mouth. “It doesn’t look good. But you need to worry about Jack first and everyone else after. I’ll reach out to your boss and talk to her about my ideas for the human-interest story on you and Jack. I’ll fill her in on all the details she needs to know about Chrystle, and I’ll work Matteo in there too. You said she’s cool, right?”



“She’s phenomenal. And she wants to help, so I think she’ll welcome any ideas you have. You might want to word it that you heard she wanted to run this story so she thinks the whole thing was her idea,” I suggested with a smirk.



“Couldn’t hurt.”



“But what if Jack says no to the interview? I mean, what if he doesn’t forgive me?”



She slammed her palms against the tile floor. “If he doesn’t forgive you, I’ll fly out there and personally kick him in the nuts! After everything you’ve forgiven him for, he can absolutely get the fuck over this.”



“What if he doesn’t?” Nervous butterflies flapped their wings in my stomach. I hated being on this side of things. It was so much easier being the one who was mad. It sucked being the one someone was mad at.



“He may be a stubborn asshole, Cass. But he loves you. He will forgive you and get past this. He might murder Matteo, but I think we all expect that.”



“Even Matteo expects that.” I laughed.



“So, when are you leaving?”



I stared straight ahead at the photographs covering the walls, wondering how the hell she knew me so well. “Tomorrow.”



“Will Jack be there?”



“No. He’ll be on the road.”



“Well, that gives you a little time to get yourself together and prove it.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “Although I do think taking back the little cheating liar proved plenty, but what the hell do I know?”



“You know a lot, and I love you. What would I do without you?”



She faced me, her bright blue eyes shining. “You’d be lost forever, searching for me.” She laughed. “It’s been nice being here and not being online, right?”



I breathed deeply, not realizing the truth before she asked. “Between that and having my phone off, it’s been way less stressful.” I cocked my head to the side. “I mean, it was before the whole Matteo kissing thing.”



“Just remember when you get back, no gossip sites. We’re still not reading them.”



“Not reading them, check,” I wholeheartedly agreed.



She held her pinky out in the space between us and I wrapped my pinky around it.



I stepped into the terminal at JFK and turned on my phone. I scrolled to Matteo’s number, and, since I could never use him for a ride again, especially now, I deleted it. Hopefully this would help prove to Jack that the dreaded kiss truly meant nothing to me. I wouldn’t talk to Matteo again for the rest of my life, and that was fine with me.



After getting my suitcase, I waited in line for a cab, and once inside, I started to feel sick. Being back in New York after spending time in LA was like being in a different universe. My life appeared so different depending on which state I was in. I couldn’t hide in New York. And even though there were a hundred times more photographers in Southern California, it seemed easier to get lost there. Or maybe I simply knew the hiding places better?



We pulled up to my apartment building where three paparazzi waited outside. They had to know Jack and I were both out of town, so why were they here? I tried to be nonchalant, but they recognized me right away as I pulled my suitcase from the trunk.



“Where’s your boyfriend, Cassie?”



“How long have you been cheating on Jack?”



“Why isn’t Matteo driving you?”



“Where have you been?”



“Did you really make Jack leave Chrystle?”



“Did you go away with Matteo?”



Back in the middle of hell, I lowered my head and walked through the revolving door, resisting the urge to scream in their faces. I kept my back to the cameras while I waited for the elevator doors to open and swallow me whole.



Walking through our front door, I noticed the mess Jack left. Dirty dishes sat in the sink. Maybe he didn’t think I’d come home so soon? Or did he think I wouldn’t come home at all? I cringed inwardly at my thoughts and cleaned up the mess. I wanted to text Jack that I made it back, but remembered that he’d asked me to leave him alone. I hated being in our home without him.



I couldn’t win. I hated being in LA without him. I hated being here without him. It was time for me to stop holding Jack accountable for things he didn’t do. And if I truly didn’t want to live my life without him in it, I needed to act accordingly. Be strong and trust that he was tough enough to deal with my emotional baggage. My choosing to keep things from him only placed a heavier burden on my shoulders. And Jack never asked me to do that. That was a choice I made to make things easier on Jack, but in the end, it only made me resentful.



I spent the next couple of days on the phone with both Melissa and Nora, working out the potential details for the magazine article. Nora was thrilled to help but made it clear there was a need for the story, especially now. She pressed me to firm up a date as soon as possible, insisting that the longer we waited to speak out, the more potential things had to escalate. I promised her that I’d ask Jack as soon as he came home, and then hoped he’d still speak to me. Melissa and Nora were also up to something, I sensed it, but neither would admit a thing.



I was restless the entire day Jack was due to come home. Pacing while I waited, I practically held my breath for him to walk through the door. A bottle of wine called out to me while I paced, so I stopped and poured myself a glass. I desperately needed to ease the tension running through me.



I stepped outside on the balcony and leaned on the railing, the summer heat beating down on my bare shoulders. Lights switched on and buildings lit up from the inside out as I sipped my wine, watching the city come alive. This city held its own kind of magic. You just had to know where to look.



The front door slammed shut, and I whipped around to see Jack standing in the entryway staring at me. I wanted to leap into his muscular arms, but resisted and just walked slowly back inside. He looked so damn good in his travel attire of black slacks and a white collared shirt with a black tie. I was tempted to rip his clothes from his body and throw them in a pile on the floor.



“Hey.” He nodded curtly in my direction, his voice devoid of any emotion.



“Hi,” I answered softly, terrified that this could be the end.



“When’d you get back?” He glanced around at the kitchen and the living room.



“A couple days ago.”



He dropped his bag at his feet and opened the fridge. Pulling out a beer, he twisted the top off before taking a long swig.



“Jack, listen,” I started, unable to wait any longer before working things out between us.



His eyes widened as he moved to our kitchen table. Pulling out a seat, he plopped down. “I’m all ears.”



“I am so sorry for everything. I should have told you about the kiss the second it happened, but I just wanted to forget it. And I’m sorry for running out on you without even giving you a chance to talk. I’ve realized that I really suck at talking things out, and I promise you that I’m going to work on it. If you’ll let me, I mean.”



My chest tightened as I looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction before I continued. “Leaving you here all alone to deal with the fallout of Chrystle’s article was wrong of me. You were right when you said I didn’t take your feelings into consideration.” I averted my eyes briefly before looking back at him. “I didn’t even think about how you felt. I only thought about myself. And I’m so embarrassed to even admit that to you, but it’s the truth.”