10. Keke

Chapter 10

Keke

B y the time Luke gets back to the condo, it’s fairly late. I’d been perched on the kitchen island for hours, scrolling through emails, organizing files, and trying to piece together a strategy that would keep him from making the front page of another tabloid for the wrong reasons.

Whitney is lucky I don’t bill overtime.

I glance up when he walks into the room. He’s looking tired, worn. His shoulders are slumped, and after he tosses his bag onto the chair, he stands there for a minute, looking out the window. He doesn’t say anything right away, and I can tell there’s something weighing on him.

“What's going on?" I ask, sliding my laptop off to the side. I may not know him well enough yet to predict his moods, but I can definitely tell something is off.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You ever feel like things are starting to slip out of your control? Like no matter what you do, it's just not enough?”

I blink at him, taken aback by the uncharacteristic vulnerability. This isn’t like the other night when he was playing around. This is the real deal. “What are you talking about?”

He sinks onto the stool across from me, resting his elbows on the island. “Lucas, the rookie. He's really good, and it's not that I don't want him to succeed, but he’s younger and faster, and I can't help but feel there's a trade coming up. At least, that’s the Russian rumor going around.”

“The Russian rumor?”

He almost smiles. “We’ve got some Russians on the team, and they tend to hang out together a lot. Sergei’s father was high up in the Russian government and Sergei likes to spy on people. Says it’s what’s kept him alive.”

I arch a brow at that. “What?”

“I didn’t ask for details beyond what he told me because I don’t want to know more than that. Anyway, I’m sure my name is on the chopping block because, as you know, I’ve brought some drama to the team.”

“You can’t think like that?—”

“The team’s been trying to stay on top of things, keep the chemistry alive. It's a lot. I figured you'd have some advice, seeing as you're the expert in getting along with people and making them do what you want.”

I chuckle, despite myself. That’s my reputation already? “I'm not sure manipulating the media and managing PR disasters is the same thing as keeping a hockey team’s chemistry in check.”

He shrugs, a smile tugging at his lips. “Whatever you want to call it, you're still good at getting people on your side. Originally, I was going to try and get you fired, but?—”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. But I like you, Keke. You aren’t a pushover, and you’re smart. I could use some of that right now.”

The man just admitted to trying to get me fired, and now he wants a favor ?

“I’ll help you, if you help me.”

“Anything. Name it.”

“I will tell you how to fix the problem with the rookie, if you tell me how you can have the audacity to ask for a favor after admitting you wanted me fired.”

He grins at me and it’s like being hit by a thousand-watt beam. No wonder they have him on all the billboards. “It was instilled in me by my family. Audacity is the only thing that gets actors out of bed most days.”

“So, it’s not something I can develop?”

“Sadly, I don’t think so.”

“Damn.”

“Now, my problem.”

I shake my head, smiling. “You want some advice? You ever heard the expression keep your friends close and your enemies closer? That’s rule number one.”

His brow furrows as he looks at me. “You want me to be friends with Lucas?”

“Not exactly friends, more like acquaintances. Mentor him. Take him under your wing andmake him feel like he's a part of the team, not just the new kid trying to steal your spot. Right now, you see him as competition, but if you're helping him to succeed, you're no longer his rival. You're his ally. And in return, you'll have someone who's loyal to you, not looking to outshine you.”

He considers this for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. “So instead of pushing him away, I should try to bring him closer?”

“Exactly. It's not just about getting along with him. It's about controlling the narrative. If you're the one who helped the rookie become a star, then that becomes part of your story, too. People will remember that you were the veteran who helped build the team. No one's going to want to trade a guy like that. It's all about playing the long game.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“That's because it is simple.” I smirk. “At least, if you do it right. Even if you still manage to get traded, you’ll be known as a star maker.”

He nods slowly, taking in the advice. “It’s not ideal to go into this thinking I’m already out, but I'll give it a shot. Mentor the rookie, build him up, andmake him a part of the team. It’s not just about the job I have now, but also the job I’ll have in the future. That makes sense. What else?”

“Well,” I say, leaning forward, hoping he won’t give me too much pushback on the matter. “While you're working on building your relationships inside of the team, I'm going to work on fixing your image outside of it.”

“Oh, here we go.”

“I'm serious, Luke, you can't keep running around town doing what you’re doing.”

“What does that mean?”

“No more dating for a while.”

He shoots me a look of disbelief. “How's that going to work?”

“Your reputation is a mess. You're constantly in the gossip columns for hooking up with another new woman, breaking hearts, leaving a trail of chaos in your wake. A married woman? Really?” I couldn’t hide the disgust in my tone.

“She didn’t tell me?—”

“Don’t you look for a ring?”

“She wasn’t wearing one! How was I supposed to know?”

Without a ring, I could understand a little bit. “Did you even think to ask?”

“Why would I? We were both at the club, dancing, having a good time. At what point was I supposed to ask if she was married?”

Fair enough. It’s not like that would come up as a topic of conversation. If he even bothered to have a conversation with her. “Okay, fine. But that’s exactly the point, Luke. You keep getting into these ‘understandable after an explanation’ situations which doesn’t play well with the media.”

“If they would just talk to me, I could explain things.”

“Do you really think the internet understands nuance?”

He blinks then sits back as my words hit him over the head. “Oh.”

I have a suspicion he’s finally getting it. But I have to make sure. “If you want people to start taking you seriously, you need to stop being the guy who can't stay out of trouble. Even when it’s not technically your fault. Look, if you have to explain or you have to actually say that technically it’s not your fault, people have already stopped listening. All they’re doing is texting their friends a snappy headline so they can laugh at you and the team. You say your team means everything to you. Prove it.”

He lets a deep breath out through his nose, a combination of an exhale and a huff. The sound most guys make when they’re annoyed by the truth. He bites his lip, stalling. “Alright. Tell me what to do.”

“No more flings, no more drama. We're going to clean up your image.”

Immediately the old Luke resurfaces, shaking his head. “You really think I can just stop dating? Nobody will believe that I've suddenly turned into a monk. Not anyone who knows me, and not the media, either. Find a different solution.”

“That's why we have to make it believable,” I say, my tone firm. “We can't have you knocking someone up or breaking another heart, or God forbid, shredding another marriage.”

“In all fairness to me, Alyssa’s marriage was clearly on the rocks before she ever met me, or that hookup would have never happened.”

I place my head in my hands. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“No, I do. I was just saying…” He huff again. “Can you at least look at me?”

I peep through my fingers. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t break up marriages. That’s not my thing.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Yeah, well, it’s important to me that you know that about me.”

I sit up straighter. “Why do you care what I think of you?”

“Because you’re a good person, and I want you to think well of me.”

What am I supposed to say to that? Tell him that being a good person is a recent development? If I admit to that, he might not hold himself to my alleged standards.

“Luke, my opinion doesn’t matter. Only my results do. And if you continue gallivanting around town, you’re going to screw them up.”

He reaches out and takes my hand. “Your opinion matters to me.”

I give him a squeeze, unsure what to do with his bald honesty, then get up for a bottle of water. “Good. In that case, my opinion is you don't need more scandal following you around. The team certainly doesn't need it, either. I'm not saying you can't ever date again, but for now, while I'm fixing your reputation, I need you to stay away from drama and other people’s beds, married or not.”

He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you have any idea what you're asking of me?”

“Do you have any idea what it costs to save your career?”

“You're the expert. I'm not against it in theory, but literally, no one is going to believe that I've stopped going out.”

He’s probably not wrong about that. I’m not sure about the next step yet so I start verbally brainstorming. “Then we need to give you a reason to stop going out.”

“Like what?”

“We'll make it look like you're focusing on something more important.”

I open my mouth to say something else but before I can, he grins. It’s different from his usual grin and something about it unnerves me.

“What?”

“Date me.”

I blink, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Come again?”

“Date me,” he repeats with a mischievous glint in his eye. “All the guys stopped going out once they got a girlfriend. That makes you the perfect cover."

My stomach does a weird little flip, and I struggle to maintain my composure. “Have you been drinking? That's a ridiculous idea.”

“Is it?” He leans back in his chair, clearly enjoying this. “For the record, I’m completely sober. Seb and I stopped drinking two hours before I left.”

“Okay fine, but?—”

“Think about it,” he goes on, excited. “It solves all of your problems and mine. You’ll have the perfect excuse to babysit me, and you get to do it right by my side, so there’s no chance of me screwing up. You’re gorgeous, and you’re exactly the kind of girl I’d take as a girlfriend. It makes total sense.”

He said I was gorgeouslike it wasa given.

I try not to let his matter-of-fact tone go to my head. No one has ever said that about me. I’ve been called cute a lot but never gorgeous. Heat floods my cheeks but I ignore it. I shake my head, trying to understand the absurdity of it all.

The idea goes against every instinct I have as a PR relations expert. But what kind of an expert am I, really? I’ve been fired from both jobs I ever had, even if technically, it wasn’t my fault.

Technically. Oh my God, I’m starting to sound like Luke .

Whatever the case, I couldn’t deny thathis idea held weight. Still, it was wrong. “You're out of your mind.”

“You said it yourself, Keke. People expect me to be wild, to keep making the same mistakes. I’m tired of doing the expected. But no one will believe I've changed unless I have a good reason to. What better reason than being in a relationship with someone good and beautiful like you?”

I open my mouth to argue, but the words catch in my throat as my cheeks flush again. He has to stop complimenting me as if I hear compliments all the time and accept them as fact. There’s only so much flirting and complimenting I can take before I make a bad choice with him.

I shift gears to focus on the problem instead of my basic instincts. If people believe Luke is in a committed relationship, it would explain his sudden shift in behavior. It would also keep him out of the tabloids, buying me the time to rehabilitate his image. But pretending to date Luke was a minefield that could blow up in our faces in a thousand different ways.

I close my eyes, trying to steady my thoughts. I can’t believe I’m even considering this. “Do you always have insane ideas, or am I special?”

“You’re special, and my ideas are insane, but this could work and you know it. That's the only reason you haven't flat-out said no. You're the one who said we needed a good way to keep me out of the tabloids. Can you think of a better one?”

The problem isI can’t. I stare at him, unsure whether to laugh or scream. This is not how I envisioned my career when I signed on to manage Luke's PR. But the more I think about it, the more I realize he’s right.

It can work. In fact, it’s the only thing that will work. This whack-a-doodle idea ticks all the boxes.

“You're serious about this?”

“I wouldn't have said it otherwise. I trust you, Keke. You've got my back, and I know you won't let me screw this up. This isn't just about keeping me out of the tabloids. It's about getting my career back on track, and if this is what it takes to do that, to help the team, then I'm all in.”

I study his face. It’s a good face. But more than that, there’s a hint of fear, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. He’s relying on me to fix his career. He’s letting me see beyond the cocky athlete everyone else sees. He’s scared, and somehow, I have to fix it.

I sigh deeply, shaking my head. “If we're going to do this, we're going to need some ground rules.”

Luke smirks, and for a moment, I almost regret agreeing to the plan. “Of course, whatever you say, boss.”

“First rule is this is strictly professional. We are faking a relationship, we are not actually dating.”

“As stated. Second rule?”

“No more flirting.” I shoot him a warning glare. “You're going to have to act like a responsible boyfriend now.”

“I'll give it my best shot.”

“I can't believe I’m doing this,” I mumble. “This is going to be a disaster, you know that, right?”

“Nah.” He stands up and stretches before heading toward the fridge. “This is going to be fun.”

I’m not so sure about that, but as I watch him pull a bottle of water from the fridge, I can’t help but feel like we've crossed a line I didn’t even know was there. Fake or not, this is about to get a lot more complicated than either of us anticipated.