45. What the Fuck is Fan Fiction?

FORTY-FIVE

Del's PR agent, Chelsea, walked into our apartment like a soldier prepared for war. She was armed with sticky notes and ready to tell me everything I"d ever done wrong on social media.

I watched Delilah physically relax when she walked through the door and laid out her belongings on the kitchen island. She made it her command center without a word to either of us.

"Parker." Del got my attention. "This is Chelsea Payton, the best PR manager in the world." She smiled and pulled Chelsea into an abrupt hug I'd never expect her to initiate with a business partner. "She's also my friend." I laughed to myself. That made more sense.

Chelsea returned Del's eagerness to see each other again, but turned to me with a professional, composed expression and extended her hand. Her stare was intimidating, not in a mean way, but like she was analyzing my strengths and weaknesses before I'd even spoken a word. It was intense and kind of terrifying.

"It"s nice to meet you, Parker. I've read a lot about you, literally." I gave her a confused once-over and she shrugged. "It's my job. I've spent the last 48 hours reading everything posted and published about you. And some… questionable… fan fiction I wish I hadn't. Either way, I'm prepared for the job."

"That's kind of scary, but it's nice to meet you too." I pulled my hand back and shot Del a look. She was totally unfazed like this was a normal interaction. "Have you read the agreement?" I asked Chelsea, motioning to the paperwork Jerry had me sign when he brought me the idea about Kerrie.

"Yeah," Chelsea sighed. "It's pretty airtight. You can't say anything without some major legal repercussions. Did your agent hate you or something? I don't understand why he negotiated the deal so badly. He didn't look out for you at all in this."

"I'm starting to wonder if he ever did, honestly. I made him a lot of money, but I don't think he cared about much else."

"Well, you're in good hands now. I know Frank from around the scene, and he seems like he takes good care of his athletes. I've worked with him a few times and I had a conversation with him on the phone yesterday when I was preparing to meet with you today."

"He better be good or I swear to God, I'll pay him a visit," Del grumbled.

"You'd set him straight for me, Peach?" I rounded the counter and stood behind her. Chelsea printed photos from every public appearance Kerrie and I made. I didn't like the way Del was staring at them. There was vengeance on her sweet face. She didn't need another reminder of our time spent not talking.

"Yeah, you're too nice and people take advantage of it. Not while I'm in the picture."

"Oh, I like when you're protective. Mama bear gonna fuck some people up."

My girl laughed, but I caught Chelsea giving me a weird look.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Sorry, I'm getting AO3 flashbacks." She shook her head as if trying to physically rid her brain of whatever thoughts plagued her.

"I don't get it. What's AO3?"

Del patted my arm. "It's probably best that you don't know." She looked at Chelsea and said, "Can you send me the link for that? You know, to fact check." She winked.

Chelsea rubbed her temples like a teacher after wrangling kids all day. "Sure. And I've covered it when it comes to Frank. I'll be notified of all decisions made from here on out."

"Damn, you beat me to it." Del's lips pulled up in an evil grin. "Did you threaten him at least a little, for me?"

"I just said that it'd be in his best interest to do things differently than Jerry. And I reminded him of my connections in this city."

Lily's bath time alone was more difficult than usual. She was still getting used to the time change and was overtired with everything we had going on. I didn't blame her. It was a lot for all of us. It took longer than expected to get her asleep, but she finally conked out on my chest four picture books later. Then she woke up again when I tried to lay her down in the crib.

When I finally made my way through the darkened hallways to the kitchen, Del and Chelsea were talking in hushed voices while Del stirred her favorite noodles on the stove. It was childish to linger and listen, I knew. Delilah was vague when she explained how she worked with Chelsea, like she was with all of her work.

"It's understandable to be excited for something and dread it at the same time. It's a great opportunity, but I know it's out of your comfort zone." Chelsea's voice rose above the boiling pasta.

"It was a boundary I set when I signed with them. I don't know what changed."

"I understand, but it's a good opportunity. And you're still at the top of the charts right now. It's good to strike while it's hot." Chelsea sighed. "I'd never pressure you to do something, but I think this could be good for you."

It was officially getting to the point that I was going to be violating their privacy, so I made my presence known.

"You're making Chelsea eat your noodles too?"

I must have scared them because they both whipped their heads my way when I spoke.

"She's never had them," Del explained.

Chelsea gave Del a pointed look before letting her expression return to friendly. "I don't know how noodles and powder from a box can be so legendary, but I'm willing to try it after how your girl raves about them."

I wrapped my arms around Del's waist and took in her sweet scent. "She acts like she's innocently offering them for you to try, but she's secretly trying to get you addicted."

Del gasped dramatically, "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't put people onto good food?"

"The kind that realizes that they have the taste buds of a toddler."

"There's nothing wrong with chicken strips and crinkle fries."

"Agreed." Chelsea opened an upper cabinet and pulled out three bowls. She had a way of making herself comfortable in our space, but it didn't feel intrusive.

"How did you know where those were?" I asked.

"Intuition I suppose."

"Weird."

"Not really. I can guarantee you didn't organize this place on your own." Chelsea shrugged. "You had someone do it for you, right?"

"Yeah, otherwise this place would look like shit." I had no taste or idea how to organize a home.

"My sister is an interior designer. There's a system. Test me." She crossed her arms in a challenging stance.

"Oooh I love this game!" Del rubbed her hands together. "Pastry blender!"

"What the fuck is a pastry blender?" There was no way I had one of those, whatever it was.

"Easy." Chelsea pulled out a long, shallow drawer and handed me a cooking tool I'd never seen before. They could be messing with me for all I knew.

"Okay…" I scratched my chin. "How about the oven mitts?"

She pulled open the drawer right next to the stove and handed me two. "I'm going to go use the restroom before the food is done."

"Damn," I said to Del. "She's good."

Delilah laughed. "She totally went through the cupboards while you were giving Lily a bath."

I gasped. "Is her sister even an interior designer?"

"No, she works in marketing."