The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2)

The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2) Page 41

I smiled. “I like that. I think it’s a good idea.”

Jack barely smiled, possibly still in shock over everything Vanessa’s article revealed. “I do have one question, if you don’t mind, Nora?” Jack asked.

“Of course.”

“How did you get in touch with Vanessa?”

My eyes grew wide as I realized I hadn’t even thought about that. Nora smiled and looked at me. “This one’s best friend.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Melissa?”

“She’s a little firecracker that one,” she breathed out. “I think she got Vanessa’s phone number from Jack.”

Jack tilted his head back in recollection. “She did ask me for her number. But that was months ago. After the annulment.”

“She did? That’s weird,” I said.

“I swear she told me she wanted to thank her. Knowing her, she probably did.”

Nora spoke up. “Well, she passed along Vanessa’s contact information to me and I was prepared to reach out to her when Melissa let me know I didn’t need to. She said that she had spoken to Vanessa, and she was only too obliged to give us an interview for the magazine. Apparently the poor girl has been sick over Chrystle’s publicity stunts and Melissa convinced her to talk to us.”

“She’s the only reason Chrystle signed the annulment papers. Otherwise, I’d probably still be technically married to her.” Jack winced, giving my hand a quick squeeze.

“She’s come through for us twice now,” I said.

“So as I mentioned, there’s no need for us to do the interview we had intended. We’ll schedule the upbeat piece for later, and this article will run in both the online and print versions starting Wednesday.” Nora smiled. “You can keep those copies. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, Cassie?”

“I’ll be here. Thank you so much.” I stood and walked over to her desk to give her a hug.

Nora straightened her jacket and skirt when I released her. “It’s nothing. Just good business.” She tried not to smile.

Jack reached across her desk to shake her hand. “We really appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

Her face softened. “You’re welcome. Now, go win some games.”

I hated to admit that I was relieved about the tell-all interview being canceled. I would have gladly done it, but part of me was thankful we didn’t have to. All the same information was going to come out, but it didn’t come from me or Jack. I assumed there would be fewer accusations that way.

Once we were in the back of the taxi, Jack threw his arm around me and asked, “How do you feel?”

“I’m relieved we don’t have to do that kind of interview. I’m angry at hearing all those things, and I’m sad that it all happened. But I’m happy that it’s all going to be over soon.” I leaned my head against his shoulder as he pulled me close against him. “How do you feel?”

“I’m pissed off at reading all that shit. I’m mad at her for being crazy. I’m mad at me for being stupid. I just want it all behind us once and for all.”

“Soon,” I promised.

While Jack paid the fare, I exited the cab and headed into the lobby of our apartment building. My legs almost folded on me when I saw a familiar petite brunette at the front desk talking to our concierge. I bolted through the revolving door, ignoring our doorman as my insides raged. She turned toward me, and I screamed, “What the fuck are you doing in here? Antonio, she’s not allowed in here. She’s not welcome.”

“Oh look,” Chrystle said in her honeyed accent. “It’s Cassie, the home wrecker.”

“Why don’t you go back to Whore Island already? What are you doing here?” I screeched at the last person on earth I wanted to see.

She placed her hand on her hip and leaned toward me. “Did you know that people will pay thousands of dollars for a juicy gossip story? They don’t even really check their facts anymore.”

My hands balled in and out of fists as she smiled at me triumphantly. “The truth will come out soon enough, and then everyone will know what a lying, psychotic bitch you are,” I spat out.

“I don’t think so. People love little ol’ me. I’m just a victim in all of this and they feel so sorry for me.”

“I think you overestimate your ability to deceive.”

“It’s gotten me this far, hasn’t it? And it got your boyfriend to marry me. Remember that?” Her mouth twisted into a wicked grin as she pointed in Jack’s direction.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled my arm back. With as much forward motion as I could muster, I slapped her wretched, conniving, evil face. The sound echoed through the lobby as she gasped, a red handprint outlined across her cheek.

“You bitch!” She glanced outside, where I hadn’t noticed a lone photographer standing before. Flashes of light bounced off the windowpanes.

She set this up.

I refused to be her victim any longer. “Next time it won’t be a slap. Don’t come near me again and stay the fuck away from Jack.”

Adrenaline made my heartbeat thump in my ears as Jack suddenly appeared at my side. “What the hell are you doing here?” he shouted at the unwanted trash.

“Oh, Jack!” she whined. “Your girlfriend just hit me. Do something!”

He puffed out his chest, looking down at her. “I’ll hold your ass in place if she wants to do it again. Now get the fuck out of my apartment building, you stupid bitch.”

She gasped, her face scrunched in horror. “You’ll regret that. Both of you. You just wait,” she threatened as she shuffled in her high heels toward the door.

“Are you OK?” Jack’s voice turned caring and concerned.

I released a quick breath, still shaking from my actions. My hand vibrated and pulsed from the impact. “I can’t believe I did that.”

He smiled. “I can’t believe I missed it!”

“Oh, don’t worry. Someone was taking pictures, so I’m sure you’ll see it soon enough.” I gestured toward the photographer trying to keep up with Chrystle, and Jack bolted out the door.

I watched him shout until the photographer slowed down. Jack pulled him aside and talked to him, while Chrystle looked on from a short distance away. Jack smiled and then jogged back in to our building.

“What did you say to him?”

Jack smiled. “I told him that it would be in his best interest to not publish those photos. Chrystle was a stalker, I was filing a restraining order against her today, and everything that comes out of her mouth is a lie. And I mentioned that if he published anything that further damaged your reputation, I’d hunt him down and shove that camera so far up his ass he’d need a doctor to remove it.”

“Um, babe.” I shook my head, knowing full well that threats don’t work on paparazzi types.

“Then I bought the pictures from him and demanded exclusivity. If they show up anywhere, I’ll sue him. Looks like I will get to see you hitting her after all.” He kissed the top of my head and turned toward Antonio, who looked confused and unsure what to do. “That woman is a stalker. I’ll be filing a restraining order against her this afternoon. Please see to it that she does not come in here again.”

“Yes, sir,” Antonio responded.

Jack joined me at the waiting elevator, and I whispered, “Are you really getting a restraining order?”

“She’s stalking me, she threatened us, and I think she’s unstable,” he said with a smile.

“She’s definitely something, alright.” I leaned up to plant a kiss on his cheek before pulling out my phone.

I typed out a quick text to Melissa:

Thank you for getting Vanessa to do the story. It’s unbelievable. You’re unbelievable! :) PS. Chrystle was just here. In our building. And I slapped her! LOL

Melissa responded immediately.

You did? THAT FUCKING ROCKS! HAHA I heard she was in NY trying to shop around a potential book idea. As soon as the article hits, she’ll be dead in the water. No one will touch her. And you’re welcome. Vanessa was scared at first, but she really pulled through.

I quickly typed back:

Yeah, she did. If you talk to her again, which I’m sure you will because you’re like that… please tell her I said thank you.

“Are you texting Melissa?”

I looked up at Jack. “Yeah.”

“Tell her I said thank you.”

“I will.”

A Proposal

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

Cassie

Things changed once the article came out with all of Vanessa’s revelations. The public’s desire to know everything didn’t ease up, but at least Jack and I were no longer viewed as the bad guys. Melissa told me that the online message boards were filled with comments about how much I must have loved Jack to forgive him for everything, and how strong we must be as a couple to have endured it all and still be together. True to my word, I hadn’t been online to read any of it since the night I broke down. And Melissa had been right, I did feel better. I guess sometimes ignorance is bliss.

I also attended Jack’s games without the fear of being ridiculed or mocked… unless he lost, then the fans were still unforgiving. Even a few of the mean wives commented about the article and what a horrible thing happened to me and Jack. They still didn’t go out of their way to talk to me, but at least they acknowledged my existence. Which I’ll admit was hard at times, considering I knew what some of their husbands were doing behind their backs.

Work got busier for me, and I was assigned to my first on-location shoot after a tornado practically destroyed an entire town in the Midwest. It was harder than I imagined, shooting the devastation and witnessing people’s pain up close and in person. My heart literally ached with each shot I captured.

Sometimes I questioned if what I was doing held true value. And I wondered how I was any better than the paparazzi, invading people’s personal space for the sake of a photograph.

But when one of my photos was chosen to solicit donations and another was used to focus on rebuilding the town, my fears were eased. I convinced myself that my pictures did good and helped bring to light the true devastation, so others could see it and be called to help.

I walked the short distance from the subway station to our apartment, excited to see Jack. His team had an afternoon playoff game that day and I didn’t attend partly because I knew Jack wouldn’t be pitching and I was also under a deadline at work. It was embarrassing how excited I got at the idea of coming home to Jack. He wasn’t normally home before I was, and I liked walking through the door and into his waiting arms. I looked up at our apartment building, the shadow casting halfway across the street, and grinned. I allowed myself to get lost in the sounds of the traffic rushing past me, finding comfort in their constant accompaniment.

When I opened the front door, a familiar smell hit me, and I struggled to place it. “What are you cooking?” I shouted into the apartment with a smile.

Jack peered around the kitchen wall at me. “You won’t believe what I got Gran to do,” he said with a laugh.