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39. Dylan

Chapter 39

Dylan

I opened the door to see my two teammates standing there, grim expressions on their faces.

“Do you not answer your phone?” Bret asked, unusually testy.

“I haven’t looked at it yet this morning.” I walked toward the couch to unplug it, and realized it was still on Do Not Disturb. I clicked off that setting and my phone exploded. Rosie must have gone back upstairs. I’d have to find a way to convince her that none of this was her fault. By her stricken expression, that wasn’t going to be an easy task.

“Have you seen the article?” Gage asked.

“Yeah,” I said absently, as I scrolled through my notifications. I had three missed calls from my agent, Harry. And one from Coach Perkins. “It’s mostly misrepresentation and outright lies on a smaller website.”

Gage exchanged a look with Bret. “It’s getting picked up by national news,” he said. My stomach dropped.

I pulled up my agent’s number and called him back. “Dylan, I’ve booked you the next flight out of Winterhaven,” he barked on speaker phone as soon as he answered.

“Why?” I ran a hand over my mouth. “Because of that article?”

“Yes. Ms. Lincoln has called for another executive meeting. And it’s not looking good.”

A pit grew in my stomach. “But none of that is true. Or, parts of it are, but it’s exaggerated.”

“Just be at the airport in the next hour,” he said. “Your ticket’s in your inbox. Call me when your plane lands.” He hung up without a goodbye.

“We’re coming with you.” Bret already had his phone’s browser open to the airline site.

“I can’t just fly back right now.”

“You have to,” Gage said. “This is your career. Your dream.”

But if I left Rosie like this … I bounded upstairs to her room and knocked on the door. When she didn’t answer, I cracked it open to find that it was empty, except for Lizzy lying on her bed, curled up in the heated blanket.

The bathroom door was open, and a quick search of the house showed she was gone. I finally looked out the window to see that her truck wasn’t parked out front anymore.

I pulled out my phone to call her, but it went straight to voice mail.

“Rosie. Call me asap.”

“We have to go,” Gage said. “You can’t miss this flight.”

I sent a text to my parents.

Dylan : I have to fly back for a meeting.

Dylan : But I can’t find Rosie to tell her.

Mom : What happened?

Dylan : An article came out about me that is less than flattering.

Dylan : *article link*

Dad : So the usual.

Dylan : Exactly.

Dylan : But Rosie thinks it’s her fault.

My panic was making it harder for me to think—and not because of that dumb article. But because Rosie was beating herself up about it, and I had to leave before I could reassure her.

Dad : We’ll find Rosie.

Mom : Let us know how the meeting goes.

I stared at the texts, and a rush of warmth ran through me. I never thought I could have a relationship with my parents where they were on my side and willing to help. It was weird navigating this but relieving too.

Dylan : Thank you. I will.

I tried calling Rosie again as I raced downstairs and got into Gage and Bret’s rental car.

“Rosie,” I said, when it went to voicemail. “I have to fly back to Montana for a meeting. Please call me when you get this.”

I ended the call and found both Gage and Bret staring at me.

“What?” I said.

“Your viral video was more heartfelt than that,” Bret said, shaking his head.

“I’m feeling a little panicked here.” The entire morning had been a whirlwind, and I was still trying to get my footing. One minute I was contemplating how Rosie would react if I woke her with a light kiss, the next I was racing back to Montana without saying goodbye.

Gage shook his head. “Well, we have an entire plane ride to brainstorm what you’re going to say when you call Rosie again after we land.”

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