The Game Changer

I took two short, steadying breaths. “Jack, I know I’m not perfect, but I’m really hoping you’re not ready to give up on me yet. I don’t have gifts or love letters or anything like you had. But what I can give you is my word, my promise, my vow to you. Which I will back up with actions, by the way.” I forced a slight smile and thought I saw his expression soften.



“I promise to stand by you and not run away when things get tough,” I told him solemnly. “I promise to always talk to you about the things that are bothering me, no matter how stupid and insignificant I think they are. I promise to be a better team player. Because there isn’t a game on earth I want to play if you’re not by my side.”



My eyes filled with tears as my emotions overwhelmed me. “I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere without you. You told me once that I was your game changer, but the thing is, you’re mine too. It took me a little time to realize that, but I finally did. You’re my game changer. Because nothing else matters if you’re not with me.”



Jack pushed back from his chair and walked over to me. “I love you, Kitten.”



I stood up and pulled me to him, crushing my chest against his. We squeezed each other like we’d never touched before, all space disappearing between us. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I know I’m a pain in the ass.”



He nodded. “Yeah, but you’re my pain in the ass.”



“Do you forgive me?” I pressed my wet face against his shirt.



“Of course, I forgive you.” He tilted my head up and pressed his lips against mine.



“There’s more,” I pulled back from the kiss.



“More what?” he asked.



I hesitated, nervous that he might hate the idea. Jack had always been a private person, and I wasn’t convinced he’d be willing to invite the public into our personal space. “I want to fix everything. I want people to stop hating us and believing the things they read and think they see. The magazine said they would be willing to interview us. They’d call it a local human-interest story, but it really would be our way of setting the record straight. Nora and Melissa both think this will help our public image. Especially in light of Chrystle’s accusations and the Matteo picture, but they want to do it as soon as possible.”



“Do we get to throw Chrystle under the bus?”



“Every step of the way. We can address whatever we want. Nora said we would have a lot of creative control, but she’d make sure we came out on top. What do you think?”



“Let’s do it.”



“Really?” I thought he would argue more, or be more concerned.



“Really. I think this is the best way for people to hear the truth. And since it’s the magazine you work for, I trust it will be done right.”



“Me too.”



“So you set it up, and I’ll be there.”



“Your next day off is Monday. Can we do it then?”



“I’m all yours.”



“I’m excited for people to learn about the real us. Maybe they’ll stop being so judgmental,” I said hopefully.



“Who cares? Is it time for make-up sex yet?” He bit his bottom lip suggestively, and I instantly craved every inch of his skin on mine.



“Absolutely.” I leaped into his waiting arms, desperately pressing my lips against his.



“Don’t forget your quarters,” he teased.



I Can’t Believe I Did That



Cassie



I hopped out of bed Monday morning filled with anticipation. The interview was supposed to take place here in our apartment, but Nora asked to see us in the office first. The request was a bit unusual, but since she was doing us this huge favor, I agreed. Not to mention the fact that I still was getting paid time off.



Tossing my long hair into a ponytail, I stared at the bags under my eyes before dabbing some concealer on them. I hurried through the rest of my makeup routine as Jack hopped into the shower.



“Do we have a new driver, or should I just call us a cab?” I cringed at bringing up the whole Matteo and driver situation.



“I never hired a new person. I’ve just been using random drivers.”



“So, do you want to call the car company or grab a taxi?” I pressed my lips together to spread my lipstick.



“Whatever you want. I don’t really care.”



I frowned to my reflection at Jack’s apparent indifference. “We’ll just take a cab.” I finished getting ready as Jack got dressed and disappeared into the living area. I hated how it took him absolutely no time to look gorgeous.



By the time I got ready, I caught Jack reading online, a sour look spread across his face. I crept up behind him and tossed my arms around his shoulders before looking on the computer screen. A nasty article titled a “Home-Wrecking Floozy” was on the screen. Obviously, it was about me.



He shook his head, his hand reaching up to grab mine. “I’m so sorry, Kitten. I had no idea these were the kinds of things people were saying about you.”



I leaned down and kissed his cheek. “It’s not your fault, babe.”



“Yes, it is. This whole thing is my fault. No wonder you flipped out. This shit is horrible.”



I shrugged. “None of that matters. It’s all lies anyway, and we both know it.”



“You really don’t care?”



“I care about how you feel about me. Not a bunch of people I don’t know. At least I’m trying not to care what they think,” I admitted honestly.



I pulled Jack by the hand into the magazine offices. He had never been up there before. “Where’s your desk?” he whispered as my coworkers turned to eye us before saying hi and excitedly introducing themselves to Jack. I spotted Joey in the kitchen, hanging back and looking clearly uncomfortable, and I offered him a slight smile. He smiled back but stayed put.



I pointed toward the far wall. “Over there. I’ll show you after.”



I rapped on Nora’s oversized door. “Come in,” she called out.



We closed the door behind us. Nora stood up and came around her desk to introduce herself to Jack. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”



“You too. I’ve heard a lot of great things,” Jack said respectfully, and I was impressed.



“So, I know we were supposed to shoot the puff piece today,” she began, and my heart raced.



Supposed?



“But this just came up, and I wanted you to be the first to read it.” She handed us each a copy of our magazine with a cover photograph of a girl I didn’t recognize.



“That’s Vanessa,” Jack said as he opened the magazine and flipped to the article.



“Chrystle’s best friend, Vanessa?” I asked and he nodded.



“Read the interview. I think you’ll find it quite illuminating,” Nora insisted.



I skimmed through it before my jaw dropped and I was forced to stop. “Holy shit, Jack. Do you see the part where Vanessa says that Chrystle planned this whole thing from day one?”



I read directly from the magazine copy:



“Chrystle knew every player who got drafted and had the potential to eventually play on our team. She researched Jack and learned everything about him before he even played here. She was obsessed. She knew he was raised by his grandparents, that he had a younger brother, a girlfriend, what kind of car he drove. She found out his parents weren’t in his life, and she said no one could live through that unscathed. Chrystle believed that everyone had a weakness and she was convinced she’d just stumbled upon Jack’s. When I mentioned that he had a girlfriend, she didn’t care. Unless Jack moved to Alabama with his girlfriend, Chrystle considered him fair game.”



My stomach turned. “Jesus, Jack.” I looked at him, his eyes still scanning the magazine in his hands.



“And the minute Jack arrived, sans girlfriend, she put her plan in motion. She practically stalked him, waiting for the opportunity to seduce him. She knew where he lived and who he lived with. Some nights she would wait outside their apartment in case they all went out somewhere. She wanted to follow them and make it look like a coincidence when they all showed up at the same place. She was relentless. I feel like Jack didn’t stand a chance against her. He had no idea what he was up against because most normal people aren’t that manipulative and determined. She wasn’t going to stop until she had what she wanted. And what she wanted was Jack.”



The interviewer of the magazine asked, “Why? Why Jack?” And Vanessa responded:



“Because he was going to make it all the way to the major leagues and she knew it. Anyone who watched him play and knew anything about baseball knew it. Most of the guys on the team would never get that far, and she once said that she refused to be saddled with any of them. That they were all just loser head cases waiting to happen. She wanted the money, the celebrity, and the lifestyle that went along with being the wife of a major league ballplayer. It really is as simple as that.”



Reading all of Vanessa’s words horrified me. Anger, sadness, and pain all raced through my body. I wanted to go back in time and protect Jack from this nightmare ever unfolding. No one deserved to be treated this way.



I reached out my hand, placing it on Jack’s thigh as he turned to me, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”



Nora clapped her hands together and leaned her chin against them. “The rest of the interview basically talks about how she faked the pregnancy, the miscarriage, and then how she dragged out the annulment.”



“Oh, I want to read the part about the faked pregnancy,” I said a little too enthusiastically. I scanned the questions and answers, searching for it.



“She got a local doctor to go along with her plans by basically framing him. She told him that she knew he had an affair in the past and she threatened to tell his wife if he didn’t help her. She claimed to have proof and numerous witnesses. The poor guy was terrified of losing his family so he did whatever she asked. He falsified paperwork and prescriptions for her. She came home from that first doctor’s visit with a confirmation of pregnancy, a due date, a calendar, prenatal and extra iron pills, and a chart that showed the baby’s growth in terms of weeks. Anything from the doctor’s office looked completely legit. There’s no way Jack would have known she was lying. None of us did.”



“She is really a piece of work, that girl,” I breathed out.



Nora leaned over and tapped the magazine meaningfully. “All in all, the article paints an extremely unflattering picture of this Chrystle person and makes you and Jack out to be the victims, without looking stupid.”



I nodded. “So, with Vanessa’s interview, ours would sort of be redundant?”



“I believe so. My suggestion is that we wait and see how this plays out. I can’t imagine there will be any more questions after people read this interview, but it might not hurt for the two of you to make a joint statement.” She tapped two of her fingers along the side of her jaw. “Maybe we do a more upbeat article and photo spread on your new apartment, your lives, how happy you two are here in New York. More like a public image, life, and style piece. But there’s no rush.”

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