25. Carter

25

CARTER

A shrill ring pierces the quiet hotel room, yanking me out of sleep. I bolt upright and look around the dim room. I don’t immediately recognize the sound comes from my cell phone. When I do, I lumber out of bed and retrieve it from the TV stand against the far wall.

I rub my bleary eyes and squint at the illuminated screen.

Gary Ramirez.

In a blink, the sleepy fog lifts. I look at the time and confirm the ungodly hour. My agent wouldn’t be calling unless it was important.

Foreboding settles in my gut as I answer the call. “Gary?”

“Carter,” he greets. “Sorry for calling so early, but I assumed you’d want to get ahead of this story as soon as possible.”

The foreboding feeling grows. Is this about the team? Did the coaches announce I’m being benched or something?

It takes effort to hide the fear from my voice. “What story?”

“Shit,” Gary grunts. “I was hoping you already knew…”

“Well, I don’t.” My hand shakes as I smooth down my bedhead. Damn anxiety… “Just tell me. What’s going on?”

“A picture of you kissing a young woman in Minnesota was posted on social media last night. No major outlets have shared the story yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they get ahold of it.”

My anxiety is replaced by confusion.

The picture can’t be of me. I haven’t kissed anyone in public in ages. Then, it hits me.

Me and Valerie… kissing on that metal bench outside of the hotel.

Damn it.

“Well,” I sigh. “That sucks.”

Gary’s shock travels through the phone as several beats of silence. “I thought you’d be more upset.”

Am I upset?

Not really.

Does this mess up the plan to keep our relationship a secret? Potentially. Depending on the angle of the photo, it could be easy to identify her. Or maybe not. There’s no point getting worked up about the situation until I know more.

Look at me being levelheaded and logical. My parents would be proud.

“Can you send me the picture?” I ask Gary.

A series of taps sound through the earpiece. “Done.”

My phone buzzes in my hand.

I open the text message. It’s a screenshot of a post from an obscure online publication. In it, there’s a picture of the photo posted on social media where I’m holding Valerie’s chin as I kiss her. The way my head is tilted blocks her face.

I don’t need to see more but curiosity gets the better of me.

I open the social media app and type the name of the random profile that originally posted the photo. I find the account. When I expand the picture, I see the caption lists me by name and includes a quip about my “secret girlfriend”. And the first comment is a crass remark contemplating if getting laid is the reason I’ve played better lately.

I smirk.

Sex isn’t the reason for my improved performance, but there’s no denying things turned around for me almost the exact moment Valerie came into my life for the second time.

“You still there?”

“Yeah.” I bring the phone back to my ear. “The photo doesn’t look so bad.”

“No,” Gary agrees. “And the story could go nowhere. But just in case, I’ve already spoken with Avery,” he mentions my PR agent. “She and her team are working on different strategies to ensure the story spins in your favor if it gains traction. They’ll be sending details my way in a couple of hours, but until then, you might want to keep a low profile.”

I nod along to his advice, having already thought the same thing. “No problem.”

“Good. There’s, ah, one more thing.”

“What is it?”

He hesitates. “You might want to give Davis a call.”

Hearing my lawyer’s name feels like a punch to the gut. There’s only one reason I’d need to involve my lawyer in this situation. “You think this story could affect my custody battle with Laura?” Gary is my agent, but he’s also a friend. I’ve confided in him about my troubles with my ex and the welfare of our children multiple times these past few months.

Gary’s sigh is heavy even as it travels through the phone. “I honestly don’t know, Carter, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Don’t you think?”

I mutter a few choice words and begin to pace the length of the hotel room.

Any judge worth their salt should hear my custody case and know I’m the better parent to raise Abby and Andy. This isn’t about me saving money by no longer having to pay child support. I couldn’t care less about the money.

Taking over custody is about the twins and what’s best for them. They deserve stability. They deserve to be put first. Me kissing my girlfriend in public shouldn’t be a reason to say I’m not the better choice for taking care of Abby and Andy.

But the reality is Gary is right.

It’s better to be safe than sorry.

The admission draws a frustrated growl from deep in my chest.

“Everything all right over there?”

“Fine,” I clip, stomping over to my suitcase and pulling out a clean T-shirt.

“You don’t sound fine.”

Putting the phone on speaker, I set it down and pull the shirt over my head before replying, “How would you sound if you just realized you might’ve done something that would allow your flighty ex to keep custody of your kids?”

“I’d be pissed.”

“Exactly.” I begin to throw items in my suitcase, uncaring if they wrinkle. “Listen, I appreciate the call, Gary, but I’ve got to go.”

“Understood. I’ll keep my phone on me. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

“And I’ll reach out the moment I hear back from Avery,” he rushes to add before I end the call. “Even if the story picks up, her team is the best. She’ll know how to spin it in your favor.”

I don’t doubt it. Avery Lawson is a hell of a PR agent. Carlee couldn’t stop gushing about the woman and all she’d done to help Corey repair his image. It was an easy decision to hire her.

“Thanks, Gary. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, man. Good luck.”

I hang up and walk into the bathroom. I gather my toiletries in my arms, walk back into the bedroom, and dump them in my suitcase unceremoniously.

I’m not a major celebrity by any means. I doubt there will be paparazzi waiting outside the hotel for me, especially at this hour, but the Lonestars are staying here, too. Media outlets likely sent photographers to catch pictures of the team celebrating last night, and I’m sure some will be lingering around this morning. I plan to check out and wait for the flight back to Texas at the airport before they get the chance to find me.

I open my texts and begin typing a message to my parents, telling them of my plan. Between them and Valerie, I’m sure they can get the twins to the plane with no problem.

Shit…

Valerie .

She wasn’t recognizable in the picture I saw, but what if there are more? She could walk out of the hotel and find herself the focus of a photographer’s lens. I need to warn her.

I abandon the text to my parents and settle on the edge of the mattress, staring at the device in my hands as my mind runs through all the different ways this situation could play out.

The worst one being that my relationship with Valerie ends before it ever really has the chance to begin.