Chapter 22

22

Piper

Dreams of happiness. Dreams of pleasure. Dreams that are just… way too intense for the current situation. There's really no need for me to have a dream that I wake up and it's snowed overnight and I get a cup of hot coffee and I stand at the door and I watch a shirtless Cutter shovel the sidewalks.

Oh, Cutter is always shirtless in my dreams.

I open my eyes with a slight gasp. Nothing like that sudden roller coaster drop feeling of being torn out of a dream.

I wake to the sound of shaking.

I'm shaking.

My eyes take a second to focus and I realize Saxon is at the edge of the bed, sleepy, shaking me.

"Hey, buddy," I say. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

"Maryanne is at the door," he says. "She keeps knocking and yelling for you and apologizing to me. I'm tired, Mom."

"Oh, okay. I was sleeping really hard I guess. Go back to bed, Saxon."

My son shuffles away.

I have to remain under the covers, hidden, because I'm not so sure I want him to see me wearing nothing but Cutter's t-shirt.

I reach for my phone and there's a barrage of text messages. Phone calls. Voicemails too.

What in the world is going on here?

The texts are from Maryanne. From Dorothy at work.

A text from Katie…? Work Katie? Really?

Then there are random numbers. Actual phone numbers.

Are you available for comment?

Is this the real Piper Maple?

Miss Maple I'll get right to the point - how long has this been going on?

That text makes me a little nervous.

I scramble out of bed and track down some actual clothing.

A black sports bra. Purple panties. Comfy jeans. A random t-shirt.

I race out of my bedroom and down the stairs.

"Piper, I'm so sorry to do this," Maryanne is yelling as she keeps knocking.

"I'm right here!" I yell back.

I open the door and Maryanne stands there, looking surprised and scared, binoculars around her neck.

"I knew something was happening," Maryanne says. She touches her binoculars. "I knew it all along!"

"What is…"

My phone vibrates again.

It's another text message from a random number asking me about an interview.

I'm normally up bright and early and functioning. This isn't like me. I'm in a daze. A post-sex haze from last night.

"Piper," Maryanne says. "You're all over social media right now! Someone was following you. Following you and Cutter! I knew I saw something…"

My jaw drops and look down to my phone. My eyes settle on a text from Dorothy.

This you? DAMN GIRL. Lucky!

Included in the text is a picture…

Of me. Of Cutter.

A picture of Cutter and I making out.

Maryanne stands in my kitchen, hands on her hips.

I'm scrolling through social media like a teenager with their time accessing it.

It's completely overwhelming.

The pictures. There more than a few of me. Of Cutter. Of us together.

Then the comments from people. From strangers!

People calling me a whore? I'm a whore? Because Cutter isn't playing baseball? It's my fault that his shoulder got hurt?

A hand appears over my phone and Maryanne pulls it from my hands.

My finger swipes at the air a few times…

"Piper, let's talk about this," she says.

"Saxon," I say. "I need to know if there are pictures of my son online. I never wanted this for him. I never… I can't…"

"It's going to be okay, Piper. It's just some paparazzi stuff."

"Paparazzi? Who am I? I'm not worthy of the freaking paparazzi!"

"Where is Cutter now? Is he here?"

"Why would he be here?" I defensively ask.

Maryanne tilts her head. "You do know I have cameras out back, right? Motion sensor. For the birds. I got a notification of something big moving through the yard. Thought it was a bear. Nope. It was a hunky baseball player."

My cheeks are lit on fire.

I'm busted all the way around here.

See! This is what I get for trying to enjoy some hot, casual sex!

My phone rings.

"Hunter," I say out loud.

"Hunter?" Maryanne asks. "As in Saxon's father?"

I walk from the kitchen to the dining room to take the call.

"Hello?" I ask in a very confused voice.

"Is this really you?" Hunter asks.

"Huh?"

"These pictures. I have people sending me pictures of you. You and Cutter Buckley? The baseball player. Is this for real, Piper?"

My mouth goes dry. I swallow hard. "I don't know what's going on right now, Hunter."

"I can tell you what's going on," he says. "You're out screwing around with some washed-up baseball player. And someone's been following you, taking pictures. Where the hell is our son in all this? Has he met this guy?"

My jaw quivers. My nostrils flare. "Good to know you actually care for once."

"That's the best you've got? Attack my character right now?"

"Saxon is fine. This is not what it looks like, Hunter. The only reason Cutter has been in town is to rehab an injury. He's swimming, Hunter. I'm a lifeguard. Okay?"

"So you were just giving him mouth to mouth to save him from drowning?" Hunter asks.

"Fuck you," I snap. "What I do in my free time isn't your business."

"It involves our son. Are there pictures of Saxon online? Do I need to contact a lawyer?"

My heart sinks. "I dare you. Asshole."

I hang up on Hunter.

My legs feel rubbery so I sit down.

Maryanne enters the room. "You okay?"

"Oh, just my ex threatening to call a lawyer," I say. "Normal morning for me."

"Is this the same guy that only sees his son once a week for about four hours?"

"That's the one."

"He's a fool. Ignore him."

"He's right," I say. "I would do the same thing. It's not good, Maryanne. I didn't sign up for this. Yet I did."

Maryanne nods. "There's more than just pictures, Piper."

"What does that mean?" I ask, jumping up.

What can be more than just pictures? Videos? Videos… of what…?

I start to panic.

"Someone did this on purpose," Maryanne says. "There's a whole article with it. Someone didn't want to have to leak all this stuff. You should read the article."

It takes me seconds to find the article.

… living up to the reputation of a man who would push an older woman in front of a moving car, would it surprise you to find out there are some serious skeletons in the nine-figure contract ballplayer's closet? Imagine that. A contract well over one hundred million and this is what we get? When I say ‘we' who exactly do I mean? Well, let's take a look.

The integrity of the game? Does that matter anymore?

Would you want your son or daughter walking up to this man to ask for an autograph? Will he or she get the autograph? Or will your child get scolded by this out-of-control man?

Speaking of that.

The word ‘man'…

Am I the bearer of bad news? Am I a gossip person? Am I looking for clicks and a chance to make some money?

I personally feel some things are best left unsaid.

So I'll ask Cutter Buckley directly.

Why are you hiding from the truth? How can you call yourself a role model to children when you don't even care about your own?

I pause reading the article.

"What?" I call out.

I go back to reading.

So there it is. The big secret. Maybe it's not my job to tell it, but I feel I have a personal duty to speak what I know. Imagine being a single mother. Raising a child on your own. If that job isn't hard enough, imagine seeing the father of your child on television. Imagine him being a famous athlete. Imagine being able to type in your child's father's name online and see how much he's making.

Just settle in on that.

You're struggling to survive and here's the man who got you pregnant, living the good life.

Shame on you, Cutter Buckley.

You can't run from this for the rest of your life.

Be better.

Your family deserves it.

Your child deserves it.

I place my phone on the table and I look straight ahead.

It's not exactly my business to know someone's secrets in life.

But…

Cutter has a child? A child he abandoned? A woman he abandoned?

My heart aches. My stomach feels sick.

I let my guard down for one minute and this is what happens?

I take a deep breath and tell myself only two things matter right now.

Keeping my son protected from the social media nonsense… and making sure I hate Cutter Buckley with every ounce of my heart for the rest of my life.